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ithinkhobiknows · 3 years

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Taylor Swift songs you should listen to if you love Devakshi.

FEARLESS (TAYLOR'S VERSION)

Fearless (Rain dancing dev and sona moments)

Love story

White horse (Sona POV after leaving/divorcing dev)

You belong with me (Sona POV when dev was marrying natasha. Eps : 71,72,73,74,75)

Jump then fall

Mr Perfectly Fine (Sona POV after breaking up with Dev. 1st time)

Hey Stephen (Imagine this song with lyrics "Hey Dev")

SPEAK NOW

Speak Now (What sona wishes to say when Dev is marrying some else. Both times.)

Sparks Fly

Enchanted (This song just gives me ep 28 vibes)

Long Live

RED (TAYLOR'S VERSION)

State of Grace (When sona is falling in love with dev)

Red (sona after 7 years looking back on their relationship)

All To Well (sona and a little bit of dev looking back on their time together)

Holy Ground (whenever dev and sona are dancing together)

1989

Out of the woods (when they revealed their relationship and had doubts whether they should stay together)

All you had to do was stay (Sona after 7 years)

Wildest Dreams (Sona to Dev after leaving him)

How you get the girl ( When they fight for the first time ep 87 or 88 idk but that's the vibe)

This love ( When they reunited in ep 339)

I know places ( when they are hiding their relationship from everybody)

You are in love

REPUTATION

Don't blame me ( when Dev gets overprotective of sona vibes )

Delicate (Sona thoughts in 55-74 and Dev thoughts in 73,74,75 and when he confessed in 76)

So it goes

Gorgeous ( Sona POV when she realised her feelings for Dev)

King of my heart (Already explained this song)

Dancing with our hands tied (when they were dancing in the rain at soha & golu's camp)

Dress (ep:86,169,203,225)

Call it want you want

New year's day

LOVER

Cruel summer (those 3 months they were dating)

Lover ( when they are dancing in the rain in ep 372)

The Archer (Sona Pov)

I think he knows (already explained)

Paper rings (Sona pov)

Cornelia Street ( when they were standing in front of Sona's House. And sona is saying that even if Dev leaves her she will always stay his.)

Death by a thousand cuts ( Dev/Sona Pov during those 7 years)

False God (when dev realised he still loves sona even after 7 years)

Afterglow (Dev POV)

Daylight ( Their entire story in one song)

FOLKLORE

Seven ( I just added this cause the song name is seven and it has references which I like)

Invisible String (this is just my favourite song from this album)

The 1 (Sona Pov after 7 years she meets Dev)

Peace ( this is just a really sad song about love you should listen to it)

EVERMORE

Willow (Sona pov after she got back together with dev. 7 years later and season 2 vibes.)

Gold rush (sona when she was crushing hard on Dev but everyother girl was as well)

Cowboy like me ( Both Dev and Sona never wanted love, thats just something that they got along the way)

Long story short ( another prefect summary of their relationship)

Marjorie ( in season 3, Sona POV when she lost her mother)

BONUS TRACKS

The Best Day ( Suhana's POV)

Renegade (Sona POV to Dev)

#krpkab #devakshi #dev #sona #sony tv #tambiii listen to thisss #then scream about them to me #taylor swift #all albums.

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writing-the-end · 4 years

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WS Chapter 54: Call to Arms

Previous Chapter

Masterpost

It’s finally here! Months of waiting on the minesona event, and we finally get to see more characters join the fight! Don’t see your minesona here? Don’t fear! With so many cool minsonas, i had to make more chapters to meet them all. If your character isn’t here, they’ll be in the next chapter!

I hope I characterized your sonas well enough!

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland

Storm belongs to @stormjay0

Kai belongs to @the-cheshirefox

Abyss belongs to @abyssvoidsstuffs

“If the numbers you report are true, we aren’t going to be enough.” Xisuma’s voice echoes through Red’s mind. “Even with the best engineers, we can’t hold back this many enemies.”

“We’ll need to search our world, then. People willing to defend what they love. To stand with us.” Avon’s suggestions are what sent the wanderers scattering. What led Red to where she is now. Flying over sharp mountain peaks in search of life. More than just a village, more than just a witch hut. Someone that will be willing to stand by the wanderers, no matter how weird them or their hermit friends are. And there’s one person that Red has met previous to her travels with Ecto and Avon.

He looks at the map, old and still a bit soggy. It was strange visiting the ocean monument to grab what the visitor had given him so long ago. The illness has only taken more lives, and Red couldn’t face staying any longer than grabbing this map. He rubs a finger along the red X on the colorful parchment, before sighing and looking up. Into the tall spires surrounding him. How is he supposed to find one person among all this to climb?

Lucky for Red, he doesn’t have to climb, when the person he’s looking for can fly. A shadow passes over him, blocking out the sun with a feathered darkness. Ominous black wings spread open as the stranger lands, flight feathers cresting outward like spears against the empty air. A dark grey cloak sweeps back, an iron sword glinting in the midday sun. Red steps back, realizing he probably should’ve brought something to protect himself. Or at least an invisibility potion to hide with. All he can do is hold onto the statue, hold onto Fred like it’s his only shield.

But when emerald eyes turn and meet with Red’s, the menacing and mysterious stature eases into fluffy wings and warm smiles. “Red!”

Red squeaks, purple scarred arms bringing him into a tight hug. But he welcomes the warmth, smiling to see a friendly face. “Hey, Storm. Has that poisonous potato stopped bothering you yet?”

“Gah, I don’t know how you beat me. What are you doing out here?” Storm lets go of Red, sheathing her sword and tucking grey and purple hair behind an ear.

The kipling looks around, searching for signs of trouble. Charred ground, abandoned nether portals, any sign that a hellspawn could be nearby. “I’m actually looking for you. Has… has anything odd happened to you lately? Strange things?”

Storm’s confident attitude falters a bit. “No...why?” She leans closer to Red. “You look like you’ve been through some things. Here, I have some food.”

Red takes the treat with a nod. “Things have gotten weird, Storm. I’ve seen a lot these past few months. Made new friends, and unfortunately some enemies as well.”

“You have enemies?” Storm chuckles. She wasn’t sure Red could have such a thing. “I’ve been lots of places, maybe I know your new friends. Who are they?”

“Ah...do you know Ecto? Tall, short brown hair and a passion for prickly plants?” Storm shakes her head. “Well that’s one. The other is Avon, she’s got big wings-”

“I’ve heard stories of someone called that. They weren’t exactly the kindest of tales, but I of all people should know to take people’s words with a grain of salt.” Storm runs her fingers over the purple marks that mar her arms. From what she’s heard, Avon is a protector, been through a tough childhood much like Storm. That automatically earns respect from her.

Red hears the sound of a pig in the distance, making him nearly leap out of his skin. He bites his lip, turning back to Storm. “Do you think we could take this to your base?”

_____________________________________________________________

The dark shadows of the deep forest engulf Ecto, and every noise of the trees around her sends the desert dweller jumping and reaching for her sword. It was just a stick. She leans back, running a hand through her hair and breathing free of the paranoia. “I can’t wait to get back to the others.”

Ecto pulls out a piece of cactus, crunching into the sweet and spiny skin and looking around the dark wood. Old oak, weathered and aged to a color beyond normal forests. White pillars exploding out into red or brown mushrooms, tall stalks of grass brushing in the wind.

Wait. Ecto looks up, watching her own hair stand still between her brows. That’s not wind. A flash of green disappears silently through the thick trunks, fluttering sideways and leaving the grass to sway back to their places. Ecto shoves her snack into her mouth, and takes off after the mysterious figure walking away.

Ecto was informed by a nearby village that a quiet figure was often seen lurking among the trees. Not just the pale faces of illagers that haunt the woodland mansion deeper within, armed with crossbows and axes and willing to cull at a second’s notice. Someone strange and different, like the wanderers are. Someone unique.

Someone they need to aid them. Ecto stumbles over a root, and vaults across a fallen log. “Hey! Wait!”

Ecto isn’t making up distance chasing after them like this. A spot of sunlight catches her attention, a gap in the thick canopy over her. And before Ecto can think of the ramifications of her idea, she clambers up the oak tree and into the leaves above. She spots movement below and ahead of her, and takes off sprinting. This time on the roof of the forest, over the thick shrubbery and tangled wood. Gaining on the stranger.

Her highway brings her just above the figure, short brown hair bobbing over pointed ears. An elf. “Can you...can you like stop for a second? I just want to-”

Ecto feels the leaves and branches beneath her disappear, her last footstep immediately pushing off. Giving her enough air time to grab the tall pole and balance her weight atop it. A small home in the clearing is just beneath Ecto, tucked in the canopy like a bat in a cave. The front door slams closed, blinds shuttering. Ecto keeps a firm hold of the pole with one hand, even wrapping her scarf around her waist to the dark wood and pressing her foot against the tall fencepost, dangling her other limbs off it. She growls, noticing the defensive nature of the person she was following. “This can’t be the right person. I’m out of here.”

She slips down the flagpole, feet planting into the dark grass. Ecto takes a step forward, yanked back as she remembers the knot of her orange scarf. A string of curses escape her lips. And under her muttering curses, she hears the creaking sound of a door opening. “What are you looking for?”

“My friends and I need help. We need people who can aid us in a battle.” Ecto frees herself from the knot, smoothing out her outfit.

“An adventure?” The girl rushes out of her home, putting herself between Ecto and the forest. She pulls out her axe, the enchanted diamond twirling in her hand. “You actually found the right person. I’m Kai, and I can help you…”

Ecto takes Kai’s outstretched hand, shaking it with excitement. Thank the stars, she finally found someone. Days of walking, suddenly alone, without her friends or anywhere she’s as comfortable with as the desert. “Great! My friends and I need brave souls who want to protect their home. You see, there’s an army within the nether about to invade the overworld and they totally want to destroy everything. It’s a big army and we need brave people who want to protect their homes like my friends and I do.”

Kai blinks, quite alarmed by the speed of information sent towards her. But her mind is quick to untangle all the words. “I was expecting at least a name in there.”

Ecto feels the need to hit herself on the head. She forgot about that… or does it even matter to her? “I’m Ecto. So you’re really going to join us?”

The elf before Ecto rests the axe on her shoulder, a fire in her eyes. Determination blazing bright in the setting sunlight. “You can bet I’m going to protect my home, protect this forest.”

“Speaking of…” Ecto looks around, spinning in a slow circle. Looking around at the dark oaks that loom in the twilight. “How do we get out of here?”

Kai laughs, nodding her head in the eastern direction. “Follow me.”

______________________________________________________________

Avon looks up, watching a snowflake fall in a lazy dance from the clouds above her. It’s hard to believe this is the same stuff that destroyed Ecto’s home. It looks so peaceful here in this snowy taiga, the quiet and calm a dampened version of the peace she finds in the void. Jessie pokes her head out from beneath Avon’s cloak, chirping and gazing at the snow with awe in her purple eyes. She’s getting big fast, now as large as a fox and just as energetic.

A puff of purple flame from the dragonets mouth is a welcome heat to Avon, even though it singes at her hair. Jessie chirps into the dark forest air, followed by a growl. Her wings flap against Avon’s back, lifting her cloak and brushing it against her wings.

Chirping answers back, but rather than a growl, a squeak responds. In the shadows of the night, Avon notices the snow begins to run. No, not snow. A fox. It pauses, looking back at Avon. Staring her and Jessie down. Avon steps forward, and the fox only moves when she’s close enough to keep on it’s tail. It’s leading her somewhere.

Avon’s so focused on following the canine, it’s soft feet plodding across the pure white snow and the warm shuffling of it’s ivory fur that she ignores the racketing sound of bones. The icey creak of joints grinding together and frozen clothes torn apart like icicles. Not until an arrow is sprung free from it’s bow, striking Avon in the shoulder. She stumbles to the side, wings opening to shelter the baby dragon from the attack.

A stray knocks another arrow. Bones frozen together, grey tunic draped like snow across pine branches and brought to life in the angry cold. Avon pulls the arrow free from her shoulder, noticing the tipped head of the projectile. And she can feel it, like ice creeping into her own bones. Slowing her down, making movement feel like she’s fighting through meters of snowdrift. But it doesn’t stop her from drawing her trident.

It doesn’t stop her from fighting the horde of monsters that appear in the shadows of the night. Zombies and strays, preying desperately for a life at the anguish and loss of their own. Avon pushes Jessie’s head into the protective warmth of her cloak, hiding the dragonet from harm and flattening her wings over the baby. And then she fights. She strikes down the zombies lurching forward, then throws her weapon to stop the barrage of arrows. It returns to her hand and she whips it around and knocks over another monster. Stabbing it clean through for extra measure that it stays dead this time.

The whiz of a flame tipped arrow brushes past her hair, narrowly avoiding taking some of her ear with it. But the tip of the quarrel buries itself into the exposed bones of the skeleton, knocking it over and fracturing the fragile bones that hold it together. Avon pulls her trident free, and twists to face the shot the arrow came from. She reels back, the blue metal glinting as another flame appears.

Dark grey eyes shine with curiosity, head tilting to the side and brown hair brushing against pale skin. Living skin. “You aren’t a stray.”

“Neither are you.” Avon notes, but refused to put down her weapon. Just because the person before her isn’t undead doesn’t mean they won’t attack.

But the girl puts away her enchanted bow, a smile easily appearing on her face. “Then there’s no reason for us to be at each other’s throats.” She steps forward, ducking around Avon’s pronged weapon and opening a hand for her. Behind the stranger in blue jeans and a black hoodie, the chitter of a fox eases the quiet snowy forest. “I’m Abyss and this is Snow, you look like you could use some heating up.”

Avon cautiously accepts the invitation, the wind biting at her nose and nipping at her wings. She’s not ever ready for the cold. And Jessie is just as happy to enter the warm stone and spruce home that Abyss welcomes the dragons in. “So what brings a stranger like you to my forest?”

“I...my friends and I need help.” Avon whispers, watching as Jessie slips free from her cloak. The dragonet chases Snow’s tail, before earning herself a warning snarl from the white fox. The black scaled dragon settles with curling up beside Snow, content with watching the flames of the fireplace. “If you value your home, this land, you need to be ready for a fight.”

“I’m not much of a fighter,” Abyss tips a mug around, watching the tea within it slosh and drip, “What endangers my home?”

“An army from the nether. They destroyed my home and others already, and they have weapons of destruction resting on the overworld’s doorstep. They want to invade and tip the balance of our world.” Abyss stands at Avon’s words, wandering across her book-lined walls.

“The nether? That isn’t good news.” Abyss pulls out a book, eyes skimming over the ancient text held within the leather bindings. Fire and brimstone is what Abyss knows of the hell dimension. Burning away everything in it’s path. Especially snow and trees- everything she loves. She thought that all the dimensions were in good terms, or at least that’s what her studies have always shown. But times change, and it sounds like the balance threatens to tip.

Avon watches as Abyss walks to an enchantment table, where a diamond sword rests besides an open book, floating beside it. Imbuing the weapon with magic. She snaps the book closed, and unsheathes the sword. Snow rises, plodding over to her owner and letting Jessie return to Avon. Abyss needs to say nothing further- she’s in.

#wandering stars #ecto #avon #red #storm #kai #abyss #minecraft #mineblr #minesona #mcsona #minecraft persona #writing

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virtuosin · 3 years

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╳

‘Shieda Kayn,’ A warm, soundless voice would permeate his mind, the name languidly spoken from that unseen tongue. ‘The one who heralds the harbinger of death-’ A brief pause. ‘-you, the Promised One...oh, how he has twisted you. His taint has had such undue effects on your mind...and your soul.’ If he were to glance around the the hotel room, he’d find that Sona was still asleep in bed, silent still save for the gentle rising of her chest to indicate she was deep in slumber. Then, when he glances the opposite way, a ball of golden light awaits him, gravitating in place before his eyes. ‘We are Ora,’ They announce themselves to Kayn with slow omnipotence. ‘We have avoided contact due to the one you have bound yourself to...but-’ A pause, and although there is no physical features to the ball, it seems to shift its attention to the sleeping Templar. ‘-we are nearing the end...and the Child of Ora has reached a startling conclusion. She bears a terrible weight, Promised One,’ That invisible gaze returns to Kayn. ‘We wonder...will you help bear that weight? Will you still, after knowing her plan?’ It shudders in place. ‘We have tasked her to endure such hardships for a purpose far greater than should be given to such a small girl...yet she bears it all the same. You, who she has chosen...you, who our beloved Child of Ora marvels...will you dare to see the future she wields?’ Without waiting, light would burst, severing Kayn’s consciousness from that quaint bedroom, blinding him with the intensity of a thousand suns...then, darkness. It’s quiet, perhaps similar to the way Kayn had drifted beneath the waves on that moon--the night he drowned and felt the chill grasp of death. But he wasn’t dead, nor dying...but in this stasis of endless night, he wasn’t living either. Not stars, no moon...nothingness. Then, gravity returns, offering Kayn’s feet a place to rest. He stands on ancient cobblestone, and from there the world crawls into being, fanning out from where he stood. As the scene unfurls around him, the Ordinal might notice the nearby greenery and masonry. Decrepit, foreboding in nature but mystical as well. Even if he had never been to Navorre personally, he might recognize it from photos, or even video surveillance the Empire has had on the small planet. It was home to the Enclave, headquarters to the Templar Order. And there, gushing light enriched with Ora was that looming obelisk--the Ora Gate. “AAAAAAAAUGH!!” A scream of agony, so raw and visceral and brutal in nature. It wasn’t the labored shrill of someone wounded, it was the guttural yowl from torturous pain, the kind that was slow, and all powerful. What’s more, the voice...is would be all too familiar to Kayn at this point. A voice from someone who was meant to be mute--a girl he’s come to known and become close with for so many months in space. There, floating twenty feet in the air just between Kayn and the Ora Gate was the beloved Templar, Sona Buvelle. The light was so blinding that her figure was merely a silhouette, but this close, Kayn might see how brightly her markings burned--quite literally--into her flesh, searing her body and soul as the raw Ora filters into her form. “SUNFLOWER!!” A new voice, from several feet behind Kayn. A woman, tall, thin, but strangely sturdy despite the overwhelming pressure exuding from the gate. She stood, bracing against the dense atmosphere flowing forth, sterling eyes on her dear daughter. Eyes dart down to Kayn, and while he might not know much about Lestara, he would know how hardened the woman was, and how detached she made herself out to be towards others. Not softness, no kindness, not a shred of mercy-- And she was crying. “Stop her, Ordinal-” Lestara mouths towards him, her voice becoming deafened by the augmented nature of the scene. “STOP THIS MADNESS AND SAVE HER!! IT’S KILLING HER!! SHE’S GOING TO LET IT KILL HER!!” Tears were streaking faster, droplets flying off either edge of her gaunt cheekbones. If he were to look back at Sona, he’d notice a sizeable sphere form around her. It was reminiscent to one of her barriers, however, it shielded herself away from the world, acting as a small space to contain herself and the overwhelming Ora now being absorbed by the girl. Another blast of light erupts, and something shifts. As if a moment happens but is not shown to Kayn--like a skip in a record. When his vision adjusts, he would notice an utter lack of Rhaast--had he even been in the memory to start?--and the Ora Gate was pulsating with a final breath of Ora before it went dormant. Would he have enough focus to notice the ebony shade lingering at the edges of the gate, or were his eyes caught off guard by the limp body of his prisoner, flowing straight for the ground. Whether by direct choice of his own or the Ora, Kayn would find himself racing forward, catching Sona at the cost of hitting the ground hard on his side. But she was safe, in his arms--except...she isn’t safe. Not at all. Her Ora markings roared with energy, as if made of fire itself. What’s more, there were more of them, splintering off and creating new curves around her eyes, her arms, her neck. Robes were singed, the long emerald sleeves burned off to her biceps, revealing her scotched flesh to him. A direct effect from how she was forced to filter the raw Ora into her body, all in order to control that Ora Gate of his. “Sh-Shieda...” Sona wheezes out, the light in her gilded eyes rising and falling in color, going from prismatic to dull. All of her features matched that ebbing effect, signifying what he’d feel in his gut; Lestara was right...she was dying. He might feel that strong, innate connection they share, and it would only confirm the fear. He would feel how ravaged her body was, how close to the brink operating the Ora Gate had brought her, and of how little life remained inside her. And yet, she was smiling. “Ehe...heh...” Soft laughter, barely a wheeze. “I...am sorry...h-had to...let it in...funneled it all...into myself...h-had...to stop Rhaast from taking you...f-from absorbing the Ora and letting them in,” A deep breath causes Sona’s body to shudder hard against his lap and arms, and it’s almost painful to feel how cold this mirthful woman was becoming. It was...tragic...and still, she smiled at him. Feebly, a hand manages to touch his chest, palm flush against his sternum as if she wants nothing more than to touch his very heart. “I...was n-never meant to live anyway...I-I wasn’t born to have...a future...” Tears would form, so fat and full of life. Eyes would drift from her hand back up to his eyes, and those large, shiny gold hues would meet his, bringing back countless memories all at once. “B-But...you gave me a life...a-and now...I can die with meaning...I-I’m so happy...to die like this, Shieda, I-” Another hard wheeze, and now her eyes were falling fast. “-I think...this is the kindest death...I could ever wish for...h-heh...I-I’m so...lucky...aren’t I? T-To die in your arms...I-I can go...happily...if it’s like this...” “Shieda,” A final rasp, eyes so dark and shadowed by death. “...y-you...were my...new home...m-my friend...my b-beloved storm, I...” It fades, and yet her lips keep moving, as if she still attempts to speak but the Ora had run dry--her life had run dry. And then there was no movement at all...her final words...nothing but endearments for the man who had treated her callously, who forced her to this place, who could not stop it even at the very end; In the end, Kayn could not keep his promise and protect her. A heaviness crawls deep into his marrow, making the very air impossible to breathe. A deadened scream echoes in the distance, a reminder of a mother who has lost her child. And then, he’d feel it--a chilling breeze that bellows from behind him...from the Ora Gate. ‘They hunger,’ The Ora would call out to Kayn, speaking to him despite the emotions that may consume him as he gingerly clings to Sona’s limp, lifeless corpse. ‘They will unmake everything,’ The world would turn gray as something oppressive lingers from behind his back, though he wouldn’t find the will to look, even if he wanted to--eyes fixated by force to Sona’s still expression. ‘There will be nothing left to rule...nothing left to live...it will all be erased if you do not heed this warning we give you, Promised One,’ The shadows grow, coalescing around Sona and Kayn. He would watch in horror as the tendrils consume her legs, pulling her out of his grasp and dissolving her into the inky depths, her pale features and dead eyes the final sight he has of his...what was she to him again? Prisoner? Friend? Something far more? ‘She will open the gate, she must open the gate-’ The Ora goes quiet, emphasizing the importance of these next words as Kayn’s vision goes black. ‘-but she need not die...but she has decided on this path. Will you prevent her from enduring this burden alone and suffer a fate undeserving of such a pure being? If she ever meant anything to you, we beseech you, for your volatile will is all that can forge a new divergence from her selected path...stop her, Shieda Kayn, and give the Child of Ora the life you inspired her to long for.’ Jolting upright, sweat trails along his musculature. He was back in their hotel room, Sona still sleeping soundly, Rhaast off in a separate corner, and the Ora...no where to be seen, presumably back inside Sona’s core. As his eyes and body adjust to the transition, he’d find something in his hands. Staring hard through the shadows, it holds a dull glint...wet and dark...like blood. Sona’s blood. When Kayn blinks again, it is gone, though the existential dread remains, instilling a profound fact in his mind. The end was coming...it was coming for them all.

#long post #ofshadowreaping #tw long post #epoch tale || Odyssey au #in harmony || ic #tw death #I mean that's the prompt #but I'll tag just in case

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ladybuvelle · 5 years

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Ora: Good or Evil?

Ora is arguably the Odyssey universe’s greatest resource. In a way it’s a lot like mana/magic in the regular League of Legends mainverse; it’s present in most all living things (but in different quantities and qualities) and can have various effects on Runeterra’s environment depending on how plentiful, corrupt, or absent it is. Some people have even found ways to manufacture ways to use mana (or magic) through hexcores/crystals, and these can be used to power things or enhance people’s abilities. Ora is very similar in that way.

What differs in Odyssey though is what seems to be the distribution and collecting of ora. Ora is a presented in a physical form as a liquid blob of glowing gold. It’s not some nebulous abstract invisible concept, but something that can be seen and touched and - of course - absorbed into one’s body or collected in a tank like oil. It can crystallize (which is what miners look for), though what causes that is unknown. Pressure, perhaps?

The other thing that’s unique to ora is it’s implied spiritual quality. Ora, being something you can physically touch, gather, and make part of yourself, may also have its own collective consciousness - but this is also unclear. I suspect it may act similarly to the Lifestream from Final Fantasy 7; which oddly enough shares many themes with ora (ex. ‘mako eyes’, as people who absorb large quantities of ora have golden eyes, being used as a power source but may also be negatively effecting the environment, can be used to modify people’s bodies, etc). Ora, mainly coming from living things, could possibly be - to put it crudely - “soul juice”. It could very well be the soup from which all life springs up, and all life eventually returns to it. Liquid stardust.

That said, it could be possible that some memories remain in the soup from many billions, trillions of lives that have birthed from it and returned to it. Or failing that it has a collective consciousness and god-like omniscience but no autonomy of its own.

I mention this mainly because I think it’s fair to assume ora has no moral alignment of its own, but could possibly be effected by whomever absorbs it.

Sona is said to have terrible visions shown to her through her special empathy with ora. She saw the coming of Rhaast and tried to intercept the alien weapon, but Rhaast’s influence reached too far too quickly and only stopped once Kayn claimed him. Sona’s interactions with ora are, overall, seemingly benevolent in that it warned her about the sudden invasion of something alien to their universe.

But on the other hand, Kayn is also gathering ora and sharing its power with Rhaast. It certainly doesn’t reject him or the alien entity in any way and he has free control of it. But that’s not too surprising. What does come off as a little surprising is Zed. Zed absorbed a massive amount of ora after killing the megafauna he was supposed to protect (so that the Demaxians couldn’t get it), and afterward “ascended” into a demi-god like being that refers to himself as “we”.

This contributes to my theory that ora may be a collective consciousness, but I also suspect its energy may be heavily influenced by the true nature of its wielder. Zed, even though he grew and trained as a Templar and was extremely dedicated to passing the most difficult of their trials, in the end made a selfish decision to take power for himself rather than let anyone else have it.

Or it’s not as complicated as all that at all and ora is just ora. The person using it is left to decide what to do with its power, and what they make of it is what they make of it. Some may take deeper meaning, or some may not. It’s hard to say. Zed’s personal god complex may just be his own crazed euphoria after having absorbed more ora than a person should be able to hold, and after feeling such a rush maybe he feels the Templar way was a lie all along (or trying to deny him this “rightful power”).

Sona’s own affinity for ora is said to be unique. She can communicate with it in a fashion and it shows her visions. She’s also apparently able to manipulate the ora in other creatures - which is somehow connected to their moods/attitudes (she’s able to calm down rampaging space squids). That makes sense as a parallel to what she can do in mainverse with her music, so it’s still neither a good nor evil thing on its own.

#worldbuilding #odyssey au #headcanon #this post is more theory-crafting #based on what we know about ora and how it works

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missameliasmithers · 7 years

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Find Your Place: The Breath After

Read on Ao3

She would rather go back and bury Elizabet a hundred more times than have to deal with this.

The cheering, the stares, the crowds. It was like the “Anointed One” debacle all over again. Aloy had been an outcast all her life; she didn’t know how to handle the surplus praise, the ardent worship the town lavished upon her the moment she stepped into Meridian. She would prefer to sink into the shadows, be an invisible observer, just check in with Avad and disappear. She wasn’t these peoples’ savior. She wasn’t some god to be revered. She was a person.

The show of it all made her skin crawl.

And so she shoved her way through the sea of people, not caring if she seemed rude for ignoring their words or brusque for not acknowledging their thanks. All she wanted to do was talk to Avad, make sure the rest of her friends were safe, and leave. Go back to the Nora lands. Help her people rebuild. She did care about the citizens, she wouldn’t have fought for them otherwise, but she was not made to be on a pedestal. She was made to act.

The Meridian guards were insightful enough and, seeing the determined beeline she was making to the Sun-King’s throne, ordered the people to make way. She still bumped shoulders with a few who tarried and knocked past hands that wished to touch her “blessed skin”, but for the most part, her path was clearer, less cluttered. At least she had enough room to breathe again.

Avad wasn’t on his throne, he was talking with his men, giving orders and organizing crews to search the rubble or tend to the wounded. As soon as he glimpsed Aloy however, he broke away in a pace that was just shy of a run.

He met her on the terrace and threw his arms around her.

“Aloy! Praise the sun!”

She stiffened. “Uh, hi, Avad.”

As soon as he had embraced her, he broke it.

“Forgive me,” he said, offering her a sheepish look. “Emotions are running high at the moment and I allowed them to carry me away. I am simply glad to see you. You disappeared after destroying the demon. I did not know where you went.”

“I had a personal matter I needed to tend to,” she replied. “I should have informed you.”

He shook his head. “What matters is that you are here now, and in good health.”

“How is Meridian?” she asked.

“A little worse for wear, but we will persevere. It will take a while to rebuild of course, but the Carja are known for their building. We suffered few casualties and the wounded are being treated as we speak. The people are in high spirits, believe it or not. The derangement of the machines seems to have vanished; they no longer attack unprovoked. And it’s all thanks to you.”

She smiled through her grimace. “It was a joint effort.”

“Always so modest,” Avad said with a warm smile. “We would like to hold a banquet tonight in your honour. Will you attend?”

“You know I don’t like the limelight,” she said.

“You needn’t do anything,” he said, encouragingly. “Just show up. There will be plenty of food and your friends are all invited.”

When she still did not reply, he reached for her hand, letting his fingers grasp hers loosely. “After everything you’ve done, for us, for yourself, for the world… do you not think you deserve a break?”

“That’s not…” she trailed off at the look in his eyes. The one he had had when he talked about Ersa all those months ago. She sighed. “I’ll attend.”

Avad’s eyes lit up. “That makes me very happy, Aloy. If you require it, Olin’s house is still yours for the using. I expect you could use some rest.”

She shook her head. “I’d rather see my friends if it’s all the same to you.”

He smiled. “Of course. You’ll find most of them gathered at the Hunter’s Lodge. Erend insisted on victory drinks and Talanah ushered them all there for ‘mead and merriment’.”

Aloy chuckled. “That sounds about right.”

Nakoa died of her wounds. The fact left a lump in the pit of Aloy’s stomach and made her down an entire mug of mead. Varl reassured her that the dreamwillow they gave Nakoa gifted her a painless passing, but Aloy still felt terrible.

Thankfully Nakoa was the only casualty among her peers. Janeva had a few gashes on her legs where a corrupted sawtooth swiped her, and Uthid had a cut on his side from a bullet’s graze, but for the most part everyone was in remarkable shape. Teb said that All-Mother blessed them with protection while Erend praised his Vanguard steel. Either way, Aloy was happy her friends were, for the most part, in one piece.

The lodge was loud and boisterous as everyone reveled in their victory. Vanasha and Erend ended up in an arm wrestle that caused enough of a commotion that Aloy abandoned her seat to stand in the corner by Sona.

“Such a foolish celebration,” she said in her usual sour tone. “Real warriors commune with All-Mother after a fight and then carry on with their lives. I can’t believe my people are partaking in this turbulent bedlam. I have half a mind to leave them all here.”

“It’ll be over soon, Sona.” Aloy said. “I’m sure they’ll all be excited to return home once Avad’s feast is over. I know I am.”

“And where is home for you, girl?” Sona inquired.

Aloy frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve made it clear you do not enjoy the reverent nature of our clan. You dismiss and reject the title of ‘Anointed’. You do not care for the Old Ways.”

A nervous turmoil started in Aloy’s stomach, retching itself through her insides and making her feel sick. The War Chief’s words rang true and Aloy had a horrible feeling she knew what was about to come. Had known for a while, just never wanted to acknowledge it.

“What are you saying, Sona?”

Sona faced Aloy with that burning look of hers, piercing through her soul. That look that was so serious, so deadly… now held a gentleness as the seasoned War Chief spoke truth. “You will not be happy in the Nora lands.”

Aloy shook her head. “It’s my home.”

“Your home was with Rost, child.”

“But you are my people.”

“You are Nora, yes,” Sona said, “and you will always have a place among us. But look around you, girl. Look at everyone who has come to aid you, who would die for you. These are your people. You do not belong in the Nora tribe, Aloy. You belong in the world.”

It was at this moment that Erend chose to stumble over. He trampled into a support beam and tried to play it off by transitioning into a relaxed lean. In his intoxicated stupor, he did not sense the tense atmosphere, nor did he notice the tears pricking at Aloy’s eyes.

“Aloooooooy,” he cawed, voice slurring a bit. “What’re ya doing over here in the dark? Come drink with ussss!”

Aloy’s brain buzzed and her stomach roiled. Everything was building up. And it was too much.

So she turned and ran out the door.

Weaving through the Meridian crowd, she ran until her legs ached and her eyes stung. She dashed past every face, not stopping for anyone. Objects were blurs, people were shadows. She needed to get out, to escape it all. But she knew she couldn’t outrun reality.

She made it to the city gate and collapsed outside the borders. Her chest heaved and her lungs burned, but it was nothing compared to the heartache she felt.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known she was different. She had known that for years, long before she learned the truth about her birth. She’d just thought that after the proving, after she became a brave, that maybe she could forge a place for herself, to be a part of the Nora clan without having to change who she was.

But Sona had been right. She didn’t fit in with the Nora. She didn’t believe in higher-powers and unseen forces. She did not fear technology, but embraced it – conquered it. There would never be a day where she would adapt to the Old Ways. She knew too much of the world now to revert to a primitive faith based on superstition and faceless gods.

The truth bit into her like snapmaw jaws.

She had saved the world. But she had no place in it.

“I was wondering when you would bail.”

Aloy bolted to her feet, tears blinked away and forgotten in the rush of startled instinct. Her muscles tensed and her fists flew up, ready to defend against the unknown foe. She found him easily enough, reclined on the bank as if he hadn’t just fought for the salvation of the world. She dropped her stance and approached.

“What are you doing here, Nil?” she asked, confused. “Shouldn’t you be with the others?”

He tilted his head back to address her. “I could ask you the same thing.”

She folded her arms. “I asked you first.”

Nil chuckled and rolled to his side. Propping himself up on one elbow, he gestured to the city lazily. “I don’t belong there. I’m not for cheers and happy chatter or slaps on the back and clanking tankards. I’m glad the world isn’t ending of course, but I’m more for the quiet celebration and the personal reverie.” He glanced up at her, smirk in place and eyebrow tweaked up. “Judging from your hasty exit, I take it you’re the same way.”

“Yeah,” she said lamely. “It’s just… a lot to take in at once.”

He nodded. “Overloads the senses to be swallowed by such din. And I doubt the ‘Savour of Humanity’ role is an easy one to play, especially for a woman such as yourself.”

He gestured to the splay of grass on his left.

She joined him.

“So why are you still here?” she asked. “If you’re not sticking around for the feast, why haven’t you disappeared into the night to find your next bandit prey?”

He gave her an odd look, like it should have been obvious. “I was waiting for you.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

He shot her a knowing glance. “You’re a wild spirit. You can’t be contained, can’t sit still. The only life that will satisfy you is one of adventure and action.”

She stared. “So you waited out here… since the battle ended… hours ago… because you knew I would leave everyone and go off to live in the woods on my own.”

“Yes.”

��And you… what? Want to come along?”

He grinned. “Now she’s catching on.”

She sighed. “Nil, why in the world would I want to travel with you?”

He clutched his chest. “You wound me. I thought we were partners.”

Aloy got to her feet. “We were partners. Three times. When there were bandits.”

Nil stood to join her. “And we worked wondrously together. We could sense each other’s movements, breathe as one, shoot as four. No one could stop us. We can have that again. I can see it in your eyes, I know you want that.”

“You don’t know what I want,” she huffed.

“I know you don’t want to stay here,” he retorted. “You don’t want a cozy bed or adoring tribesmen. You want the rush of excitement that comes from a taught bow, from the breeze of arrows loosing past your ear. You want a life filled with the unexpected. What could be more unexpected than traveling with yours truly, taking down bandits and rogues and any other bottom-feeding scum that crawls out of the underbelly of the world? We’ll follow that moral compass of yours into whatever den of thieves you want.”

He’d gotten closer as he spoke and stood nearly toe to toe with Aloy, his warm breath caressing her neck with ever word. His gaze scorched her as if they were peering into her soul itself, searching her for hesitance, excuses. She thought she felt the brush of his fingers against her hand, but it was gone in an instant.

“So what do you say?” he said, mouth caught in his typical lopsided grin. “I think I’m being more than generous here.”

She couldn’t deny it sounded mildly attractive. After her conversation with Sona, after feeling like she was suddenly lost in the world with no where to go, here was Nil, a friendly face offering her a purpose. And it wasn’t as if they didn’t work well together, because Nil was right, they were a fantastic pair. But she couldn’t just drop everything and run off with Nil, could she?

Her voice nearly caught in her throat. “We would kill each other.”

“You already denied me of that once,” he said. “And I’ve since tired of the thought. Why would I want to end such a grand adventure? There’s so much more to do, so many villains to slay. You were right that day, Aloy. I was meant for more than death. Although I will gladly accept some wounds from you. Sparring together as we travel sounds like a delicious way to spend time. I shudder in anticipation just thinking of the thrill of it.”

She was crazy for even considering it. “This is insane.”

He laughed. “The rest of the world hasn’t exactly been normal as of late. I don’t think anyone will mind if we contribute. Besides, things will only get worse from here. Just imagine the fiends that will come lurking from the woodwork to feast on the wreckage of the war. You may have saved the world today, Aloy, but it doesn’t stay safe. It never does. We can help protect a lot of people.”

She scoffed. “You just want to kill rogues.”

He smirked. “Yes, there is that wonderful benefit.”

“So why not just go?” she asked. “You can kill people on your own. Why does it have to be with me?”

He gave her that look again. “Because you’re the only one that makes it mean something.”

Aloy sighed and closed her eyes so his couldn’t bore a hole through her as she considered her options. She couldn’t stay in Meridian. The crowds, the expectations, the stares of reverence, it would all drive her mad. Mother’s Heart would be no better, nor would any of the Nora settlements. If she heard the words ‘Anointed One’ one more time, she would probably punch someone.

Maybe Sona was right. Maybe she did belong in the world. Maybe she could find her place in the great, wide somewhere.

And maybe she didn’t have find it alone.

Aloy raised her gaze to lock with Nil’s. He held it intensely, waiting for her response.

“Can you at least tone down the creepy death talk?” she asked.

The grin he offered her was mischievous, but his eyes were bright with glee. “Well now you’re just being mean.”

Part 1 end.

#horizon zero dawn #aloy #avad #erend #sona #nil #fanfiction #missameliasmtihers fanfiction #hzd

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eri-223 · 7 years

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[Horizon: Zero Dawn] Aftermath

In the aftermath of the battle at Meridian, Aloy has to find a new way to think about the Nora. A missing scene. Aloy/Varl, 1.5k.

The city had been choked by the battle, but as soon as Aloy reached the southern gate Vanasha was there with wet cloths to put over their mouths.

“I knew you’d make it,” she crowed, and hugged Aloy and Varl in quick succession with a fierce assurance. Aloy had needed this, after standing at the Spire and overseeing the world. She had needed a person instead of a hologram. Vanasha lead them up the hill, past the wreckage of ravagers and the oil spilled from bellowbacks. Aloy looked downstream to find the deathbringer she had kneecapped with an Oseram gun. Already it looked old, even ancient, like an island with the water frothing around it.

“Tea for our heroes! That’s what you said you wanted, right? Anything goes.” Carja guards were forming organized lines to pass fresh rubble to the sides of the streets. Cries from the docks told Aloy that there were still people there, under the wreckage. She moved to go to them, and Vanasha hooked one arm around her shoulders.

Aloy startled under her touch.

“After that thunderjaw, I didn’t doubt you,” Vanasha said. Aloy recognized the look she gave under her armored helm, though; Vanasha was worried. Maybe Aloy had been drifting a bit, her eyes unfocused. The exhilaration of the battle was draining away like the river water, leaving her to count what she needed to do next. Find Elizabet’s home. Catch up with people she’d spoken to throughout the Sundom, to trade favors or make sure their families were safe. Look at the place the Nora called the Sacred Lands again and found out what it meant to her now.

Vanasha steered her to a supply tent. Erend disappeared into the bustle of a cleanup crew and came back with the fruity tea made by the Carja.

“A thunderjaw?” Varl sounded awed, despite the fact that he had just held off several bellowbacks and corrupters alongside the other Nora.

Vanasha propped her hip against the table and folded her arms. “She did. On the way to rescue the young king and his mother from Sunfall, she happened to deal with a big machine in the process.”

“They were just rumor in the Sacred Lands.” Varl shook his head. Aloy watched him from the other side of the table, wondering whether he felt more in place in Meridian now that he had been covered in the dirt of it.

Varl had a cut across the bridge of his nose, but it was difficult to tell how deep because of the river mud clotted on it. She had missed his eyes, Aloy decided. She had missed this expression, the clear-eyed kindness of it. She never had asked him what the blue mark on his brown skin meant.

“Avad mentioned that you declined to have an audience with him,” Aloy said.

“Sona and I talked about it,” Varl said. “It didn’t feel right, somehow. Presumptuous, but also … we came to help them, not to be celebrated.”

Shouts from the riverbank, and Erend marched off with a worried expression.

“I’m sure Avad understands that,” Aloy said.

“And you’re kin with the Sun-King now?” Varl’s mouth quirked.

Aloy knew her laugh was awkward. “Not exactly. I think he’ll make a good leader as he grows. He showed that today.”

“But still. A king. And I’m still struggling not to call you … never mind.”

Aloy smiled. By the Sun, by any oath or none - Varl was trying. Wooden beams snapped near the riverbank, something that might have been large as a house. Aloy tensed, wanting to run. There were repairs to be done, corruption to be cleared, and she had hands that could do it. Vanasha didn’t seem inclined to let her help here, though.

“Listen, we should go scouting,” Aloy said. “See what cleanup we can do in the south. It’s fertile land; there’ll be hunting.”

Relief made his nod exaggerated, but Aloy felt it too. “Yeah. It’ll be good to go somewhere … wild.” To the Sacred Lands, he didn’t say.

She heard it, though. Would she want to go back there? He wouldn’t ask her to - not now that she had gone into the mountain and come back out. How to explain that little shift in perspective?

“Vanasha?” Aloy said.

“Drink your tea.”

Aloy took a sip. It was lukewarm and swirling with dregs, but the flowery taste soothed her. “Can you tell Avad that I’ll talk to him soon?”

“Sure. Going to confer with the Nora?” Vanasha nudged Varl with her hip. “With a particular Nora?”

“Yes,” Aloy laughed, and Varl looked honored. When she stood, though, and saw the bustle of the lines there was a sudden uncertainty. She did not want to walk down the blasted path with the same certain urgency she had walked the verdant one. She did not want Varl to look to her for the blind leadership of the bunker.

Instead, he walked ahead of her, his shoulders hunched and his steps sure. That was good enough.

The land under the Spire was not untouched; corrupted machines had marched in the city’s shadow. Furrows were dug into the dirt. Animals had scattered, and so any pretense of hunting would take them farther away than Aloy would have liked. Smoke drifted in low patches.

Eventually they found themselves scanning less and just walking, bows and arrows held in loose fingers. Aloy remembered finding a herd of striders here, of clearing the lake of snapmaws so that a girl could mourn her friend. Maybe more snapmaws would clamber into that lake one day not long from now, peacefully, and clean the water. How ever did they do it? Maybe she would find more out about Gaia’s science, about both of her mothers’ sciences.

She lead Varl to the covered pagoda at the edge of the lake. Rested her elbows, saw the ancient armor spark with its awareness of the barrier. Varl leaned on the railing next to her.

“I know there’s been … a lot to learn,” Aloy started.

“That’s for sure. But maybe now … we’ll actually have time to talk about it.”

“Yeah, for sure.” Aloy pulled her gaze up from the murky water. “The goddess isn’t … some invisible force,” she said. Varl obliged her while she stammered, and they both knew it. “Well, it sort of is. I can see parts of it through my Focus. But it’s also a … system, an incentive, meant to heal the Earth. We’re here, the machines are here, because we lost so much of the previous civilization. Gaia - the goddess - wants to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“And Hades was going to stop her?”

“Yes. Was going to eat up all the life in the world. I imagined what it would look like to see Mother's Heart stripped and I … hardly can.”

“I think your failure of imagination saved the world,” Varl said lightly.

Aloy shook her head. “We’re walking on the bodies of those Faro robots. I could do with a bit less imagination."

“And now when we look at the mountain, we’ll be reminded of that too.”

Aloy laughed. “That’s true.”

Varl nodded, looked out toward the still surface of the lake. Aloy watched him for a while.

“Do you remember when we first met?” she murmured. “You were outside the gate to the rest of the world. I saw you take down a machine, and I thought, I thought of course this person is Vala’s brother and Sona’s son. You have their ferocity. You have their beauty. And I was very impressed.”

“Oh, I …” He hesitated.

“Now that I’ve seen the rest of the world, those gates seem different. But I still remember you like that.”

He turned, pressed his back against the railing. “I remember you riding a strider over the bridge like an entire war party had your back.”

“They’re meant to clean the earth, did you know?” Aloy said. “The machines help things grow. Hopefully the snapmaws will come back here.

“I’d like to go back,” she said. “Not to forget what I’ve seen out here, but to know the Sacred Land differently. And I want you to go with me.” She moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder. Suddenly the prospect of putting her arms around him was unaccountably awkward; instead she leaned on the fence. Varl tucked himself against her with one arm across her back.

“But I have to finish other things first. I have to talk to Avad, I have to find … ” My mother, she did not say. There would be time to explain that later. What luxury, to have so much time.

“I know,” Varl said.

Strider lights bobbed between the trees on the other side of the lake. Evening fell, and with it a green fog that brought out the moss on the trees, the vines in the branches.

“You know I’ll be ready to meet you whenever our paths meet,” he said.

“Not as the Anointed?”

“I knew you when you were a Seeker, I knew when you were Anointed … But I keep waiting for Aloy.”

Now it was easier for her to embrace him, to lay her head against the furs at his collar. “You can stop waiting.”

The striders picked their way through the trees, blue lights in green evening. The fog grew cold and clear, and in time they walked back to the city.

#Horizon Zero Dawn #writings #Aloy #Varl #Vanasha #Aloy/Varl

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tangled-headphone-cord · 7 years

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OK so here’s this. Thing that’s been on my mind for quite a while;;

been wanting to make a RP/ask blog for Grace, my OC who’s been around since like 2011, though I haven’t played her in years - but she’s really been with me all those years.

But still not really sure if I should, I need validation ahaha sO ANYWAY here’s some info below the cut and if anyone’s interested please let me know?

Or even if you just have questions. I love to talk about my bbys

Those in the DBZ fandom might notice the parallels with Android 18. They were not intentional at all but I think about this a lot ever since I’ve realized it..

Name: Grace

Gender: Female

Species: Espeon (not limited to just the pokemon fandom)

Moves: Psychic, Psybeam, Swift, Slash (Yes I know Espeon can’t learn Slash but she’s a cat she NEEDS it ok)

Level: 40-ish

Age: 8 years? (ages like a cat; fully grown adult)

Bio: As a wild Eevee, Grace led a relatively carefree life and evolved while still in the wild. Being a rare species though, she was a common target for trainers and was eventually caught by a Team Cipher member and his Shadow Poochyena. In the Cipher base she was subjected to becoming a Shadow Pokémon herself, which meant intense emotional torture and brainwashing until she was more or less incapable of feeling emotions.

She was then rotated among several Cipher and Snagem members to prevent emotional attachment to any particular one and grew quite a lot in levels. One day her emotions erupted during an examination - she entered Hyper Mode and broke out of the lab, setting herself free.

She started forming an army to fight against the Shadow Pokémon when she realized how dangerous they are, and grudges teams Snagem and Cipher for what they did to her. Her army consists mostly of orphans and abandoned children picked off the streets who don’t have much else to lose.

She has the reputation of being cold and heartless, but in reality those are safety measures - she enters Hyper Mode whenever her emotions (even good ones) get too strong, so she has trained herself in suppressing them altogether. She does not mind the reputation she’s made for herself and actively maintains it.

She is tactical and a good strategist. Not above manipulation.

On Hyper Mode: Based on the canon concept of Hyper Mode as seen in Colosseum. Grace completely loses self control in this state - she will attack anything and anyone that gets in her way without holding back, even her closest friends. In Hyper Mode she is surrounded by a Shadow Aura (invisible to most) and has a more dangerous, almost insane glow to her eyes. Her appearance does not otherwise change.

Hyper Mode can last anytime between a few minutes and several hours. It is possible to snap her out of it, but sometimes takes as much as literally knocking her out. Upon awakening she is usually sort of dizzy and does not remember what happened at first. Memories do come eventually, but they are always sort of hazy.

This effect is worse if the hyper mode lasted longer.

On psychic abilities:

- being a Psychic type, she is capable of telepathic communication and mind reading (but NOT mind control, although she can use telepathy to induce intrusive thoughts). However, Dark and Ghost types are immune to this, and other Psychic types (or anyone with a strong mental power, by which I mean “clever and not easily fooled”) are capable of recognizing this intrusion and fighting against it. Telepathy also has a distance limit (which is bigger for those she is emotionally very close to)

- her tail, while it seems to function in the same way as that of a regular cat, also holds psychic power: it enables her to see the future (which Espeon canonically can do). However, she can only see future that directly affects her, and it comes in visions (or sometimes just “a feeling”), the coming and duration of which she cannot control. The further this future is in time, the less likely it is to be an accurate vision (though exceptions happen), and visions of stuff that will happen in the closer future tend to pass faster or come just as “the feeling”. Very useful in battles as she can often see/feel her enemy’s moves before they are actually executed.

Hannah: Eventually, through the help of Pika (my sona) who she initially despised but came to love as a little sister, Grace was purified (ie. is no longer a shadow pokemon). As a sign of that she has changed her name to Hannah. With the danger of Hyper Mode gone, she can now feel emotions freely; though still quite distant, another, warmer side of her has started to show.

I’d rp her as both Grace and Hannah, but primarily Grace, probably.

Would rp outside of the pokemon fandom of course, atm the main interest is DBZ/Super. Considering also letting her have a special necklace which enables her to be a human (she still keeps her psychic powers though, as well as her tail and the forehead gem which are essential to the powers) for as long as she’s wearing it... Also if I make that a thing I’d also make her age like a human, in which case she’d be.. idk about 30-something?

#voiceofpika #those who know me from dA might remember the reference I drew for her and the journal entries/memes #Grace #Hannah #this took so long to write?? it better have comments in the morning #and I could write a LOT more about her but figures it's long enough as is #bOY DID I RAMBLE HERE #basically the whole about page if i do make the rp blog

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wolfflowers · 3 years

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Asked my tea leaves (and wrote on a paper towel with blue ink) top: Which should I choose?

1) look for an apartment for myself. (top left)

2) an apartment for a friend and I. (top right)

3) Other: please hint. (bottom center)

The bottom words were all smeared (water-based ink) except the semicolon and 'hint.' were left intact. There's a big clump of leaves shaped like a horse trotting towards the left, with a person hunched close to its head, with a large pack on their back.

◇[[Looks very much like hint: move yourself and things to your own apartment]]

Inside the cup, on the side I first see because of the angle (I'll call it Inside Top, away from my lips) I see 2 people hugging: the one with their back towards us has an oddly shaped broken heart, and is shorter than the 2nd person. The leaves are very sparse here, but that broken heart is the only clump.

◇[[Me missing mom? Or connections? Broken part of the heart is present but pulled away from the main heart; long distance relationships?]]

In the center of the cup, another hunched person; at first I thought curled up for sleep/depression, but later it looked like they're sitting in a wheelchair, and the wheelchair resembles a silly white dog. The person's head (very thick clump) looks like they're wearing a helmet/bandana over their eyes, and their shoulder and arm resting on an invisible armrest (also very thick clump.)

◇[[Me depressed and sleeping a lot, not wanting to see hardships of everyone and the whole world, helmet for protection. Wheelchair because lately I feel handicapped from my shitty mental health. Silly dog could be Ut's creator because he uses a white dog sona and the game's fandom and music is helping keep me happy, but could also be my own dog w a short tail.]]

The bottom of the cup closest to my lips had more concentrated clumps than the top of the cup, but lighter than the center. Nearest my lips was a clump that could VAGUELY resemble a crown (or its just nothing), then tHERE'S a big piece that looks like a D, too its right is a duck/goose. Above on the right is... 2 hands holding a g/un pointing towards the right. To its left is another duck/goose. Above the hands is a mailbox with the lil flag up, and to its left is a hummingbird poking at the flag. The empty center between the hummingbird+hands+2 ducks forms a howling wolf. Above the hummingbird is a fist (blm?) a rounded rectangle w an empty band, and a butterfly.

◇[[D is for?? Direction? Yes please! Ducks and geese: maybe granma? Or Sarah D? She did say she could help me get a government job... {{addsfgs I just said it sarah D she likes DUCKS it is a DIRECTION snerk}} Hands holding the thing: violence from those things or ppl that use them, hopefully nothing to do with my family. I am really affected by reports of hate crimes and murders and such. Mailbox: unanswered messages 🙃 Hummingbird: ? Fist: absolutely blm and other fights for equality and justice. Butterfly on cut rectangle: ??]]

Hmm. I think it was good for my first ever reading.

#waulftealeaves

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faithfromanewperspective · 7 months

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alastair/alice carstairs/jahanshah, strength and suffering

closing up alastember, a little late I’m sorry, I wanted to finally write out my thoughts on @thevagabondexpress’ characterisation of Alice, the genderbent version of Alastair. And mostly how this character got me so emotional, so much more than Alastair himself. From her POVs early on and her own insecurities and perceived invisibility to the whole shitshow with Claire and her time rebuilding and reconnecting with family and how she stood up tall (metaphorically) during the whole thing. I have to admit I did harbour a bit of prejudice towards bully-Alastair (courtesy of NBS era) but I think this re-characterisation has made me realise some things:

1) I wish we got to see this much of what happens in Alastair’s personal life in canon, I’d absolutely melt because something just does it for me about (usually) men who are prickly on the outside and yet suffer so much and through it all are proud and independent and reluctant to accept help but they finally do and it’s the most beautiful thing ever. And so a big shoutout to anyone who has fleshed this out in their fics over the last month (tumblr seems to be not taking my tagging rn, I don’t get it but you know who you are. I think). Like we did get some cuteness with Cordelia once she knew and accepted Alastair for who he really is (once the eavesdropping was forgiven). And maybe it’s easier for a woman to find comfort and emotional support from her Persian relatives than a man (seriously, when can men be emotionally vulnerable and still respected?) but I would LOVE to see Alastair free to do that, Thomas by his side.

2) is it the way that women seem more vulnerable because of Social Features or this very talented authorship that has me just feeling everything? Because the genderbent versions of all of the tlh characters are so much more heartbreaking to read, albeit and a really warm, inviting-hugs-from-reader way. Is it because Thomas always narrates the way he sees Alastair as ‘proud’ and ‘glorious’ and likened to a ‘Persian prince’ and goes on about his forearms that the Alastair we see seems someone heroic, in the way that we’re conditioned for men to ideally be and that includes a stark contrast from the Emotionally Sensitive Softhearted Men Who Are Definitely Unrecognised Neurodivergent Cassandra Clare is famous for? (Which in some ways Alastair is a nice change from, personality wise, not that he’s not sensitive but that he’s practical first, too practical to ever show how much he’s hurting). Is it because of the heartbreaking abuse situation with Claire and the ED stuff and how much we see it breaking saeed’s heart when he finds out, and also when he realises exactly what Esther has done to her and connects the dots between the two situations she should never have gone through, that Alice seems so uncharacteristically vulnerable? Because there really isn’t much difference compared to canon, except for gender and the others’ reactions likely as a result of it. Is it the way we so easily project physical attributes onto how we view someone, and maybe I’m not immune to that when I read how tiny and thin she ends up at points in her story? No matter what, it’s clear that both characters are incredibly resilient, and sometimes it’s a good thought experiment to see someone genderbent if it makes you realise that.

3) prolonged childhood trauma and parnetificarion (don’t ask me to fix its spelling. Sorry) and neglect are absolutely brutal things to go through and even though she herself was affected (and I often wonder if she was ever in Alastair/Alice’s shoes as a child) Sona does have a lot to apologise for as well as Elias. We see how it flows into relationships (ie with Charles/Claire) and when Saeed tries to make things better and holds Esther accountable, I was really glad and relieved to see that. Alastair goes through everything he does like it’s normal and he’s willing and that’s how he copes, but I’m DYING for him to realise how much better he deserves, and I’m glad, really glad, that Alice kind of makes her way towards that realisation. Because he deserves the world. So many good things. He really does.

4) the solidarity between Alice and Judith, both around Judith’s ruination, the collaboration for the house, Judith’s insistence Claude supports Alice, and there are many more occasions. I just love to see it. As women, or really teenage girls, it’s easy to see similarities between them: despite their vastly different family backgrounds they’ve both been abused and ruined, they’re both experiencing Big Mental Health Things Claude doesn’t completely understand but still tries his best to be there for. As men, or teenage boys really, we do see them working together sometimes and mostly being not too mad at each other—but there’s so much anger and a history of violence and all the never fully resolved things from the academy that still grate against me. Because of Cordelia in the middle of them who would do great as Claude does to have the siblings in law have a relationship of solidarity, but also because the similarities are there and I just so badly want to see them heal together. I think with Thomas and Matthew’s help they’ll get there, but I also don’t think we’ll see it in canon. I guess if I’ve learned one more thing from this, it’s that that’s what fanfiction is for.

to wrap this up I’m going to make a few final additions to the Alastair playlist (who do I tag for this?? Please, trust my song selection!) that both differentiate Alastair and Alice and also bring them together. Firstly, because the SGFG brainrot shows no signs of expiry, these two 5 seconds of summer songs are applicable to both of them, yet one is more one and the other more the other, as you will see:

-invisible. This is SUCH and Alice song, from the first time we meet her, and hear how ‘what she does best’ is disappearing. i was already missing before the night I left/just me and your shadow and all of my regrets (bold because italics decided to Not Work. I’m never writing a long post on my phone again) anyway to me this captures so much of how Alice is feeling. I feel like being a woman she’s able to be more vulnerable about this than Alastair who is definitely feeling this but to him it’s normal, and I think hidden behind the family responsibility he feels, he normalises it and doesn’t even acknowledge it as something he’s dealing with

-jet black heart. Everything about this is Alastair. From the “hurricane underneath it trying to keep us apart/I write with a poison pen/but the chemicals moving between us are the reason to start again” (Thomas lightwood, do you know how magical you are?) to “the blood in my veins is made up of mistakes” (the one line I need Alastair AND Matthew AND James AND Grace to all bond over) it’s just. Utter perfection and I’ve never seen such hope and self-deprecation co-existing before. “Maybe there’s nothing after midnight that could make you stay” reminds me of Charles and Alastair and how he takes that hurt and the view of himself it builds into his relationship with Thomas. I don’t think Alice is quite as self-deprecating and it’s more than being left that she goes through, control and many many bad things—I hope she finds some radical love for herself and stays away from self deprecation. But it’s a good song, so it stays

-youth by shawn mendes feat khalid is one I love that so captures the hope and pride and dignity and determination to do good despite everything that’s been done to them that both Alice and Alastair have. Pain, but I won’t let it turn into hate, no I won’t let it change me. (Look, italics works again smh) and this soul of mine will never break/as long as I wake up today, you can’t take this youth away

-finally, one that’s about family and because I seem to connect everything with the same 5 musicians, it’s Scar by Ashton Irwin. Talking to his mother, younger sister and baby brother it even fits Alastair’s family perfectly—but Alice is the one who bonds with her grandmother and Persian relatives. And the “can you help me be a better man” is just so. So what Alastair longs for without having had that guidance as a child.

#alastair appreciation month #alastair carstairs #genderbent tlh #genderbent tsc #song recs #music recs #by (shameless tag promotion)#5 seconds of summer #shawn mendes #ashton irwin #alastember

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ladybuvelle · 7 years

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The Broken Doll

This place was familiar. Crunchy grass. Hard, dry mud. Sona recognized the sound of the wind as it rustled through the trees. An old air, as if it were a faded color somehow, passed over her. She was small again, sitting on an equally small stump of a long-felled tree. It had rained days ago. That’s why the ground was what it was. That’s why she was out here, trying to enjoy the air and sunshine after so many rainy days indoors. Not that she minded the rainy days. She was just fine sitting inside and reading books and practicing her writing.

But today she was with her roommate, Miho. Like Sona, Miho was named by the matrons since she’d arrived without one. They liked to keep simple names for children like that.

Miho had short, sharp hair that was black as a starless night, and dark eyes to match. Her face looked older than her age with a low-set, well-defined nose. She could have passed for a much older girl. Her personality, on the other hand, was just about right for her true age. And her taste in toys ran the same way.

Miho had a “stone doll”. The children called them that because these dolls had heads that were hard, smooth and cold like river stones, though Sona was sure there was a better name for them. A sweet yet simple little face had been painted on it, with two dark eyes and bright red lips and pink blush on gray-pale cheeks. The hair on her head was made of stone just like the rest of the face, just shaped and painted black to make it look like short, styled hair. The softer, stuffed body of the doll was dressed in a pretty green robe with a big pink ribbon tied around the middle as a belt with a bow on the back. Her little hands were sewn in lines to give the illusion of fingers. Her tiny feet had little green slippers. It was by no means a fancy doll, but it was certainly a nice doll. Especially for an orphan who would never have been able to afford one on her own.

But Sona had never liked dolls. She’d never had much interest in them. She’d rather play with a ball, or a stick, or read, or play marbles and gamble for sweets, or even play koi-koi with the matrons when they let her. Those were nice games. Playing with dolls usually meant playing pretend, and that was hard to do with other children since she couldn’t speak. No one could tell what she was thinking or trying to express.

Still, now and then she at least liked to be polite and sit with Miho while she played with her doll - whom she’d named Tsubume, because that was a fancy name and a fancy (nice) doll like hers needed a fancy name. But something was wrong about this memory. It was like a distant siren somewhere was warning her, but Sona couldn’t make it out clearly.

“|Tsubume! You’re so clumsy for a lady, you know?|”

Miho’s voice distracted her. Sona looked to the doll. Her pretty green robe was dirty now because Miho had dropped her on accident. It wasn’t the doll’s fault she was dirty, but she got yelled at all the same.

“|You should be more careful! What if the mud was still wet? Then you’d be all muddy! Did you want a mud bath? You’re so weird!|”

Miho often talked to her doll as if it could somehow understand her, and that too bothered Sona a little bit. The doll’s expression never changed, and being that it was just a doll it’s not as if it had any feelings or thoughts. Yet somehow it still bothered her to see something treated as if it could understand without being able to speak for itself in turn...

“|I wish Tsubume had real hair...|” Miho lamented, petting the black painted part of the doll’s head. It was shaped like a fine lady’s hair, with a painted in line meant to be a comb. Sona wasn’t sure how you’d put real hair on a doll, or why you’d ever think to. “|It’d be nice if she had hair like yours, Sona. So long and pretty and blue...|”

“... Ne, ne, Sona. |Let me play with your hair for a bit? I’ll be careful with it!|”

Again that warning sound seemed all too distant. Against her will, Sona felt her head nodding. She didn’t mind having her hair brushed so long as someone asked first. And that would surely be better than having to listen to Miho continually chastise her poor doll.

The moment she agreed, Miho set her doll aside and excitedly ran over behind Sona to play with her pigtails. They were somewhat messy and fluffy, not having had a proper haircut in years. She’d decided she wanted long hair at some point. She wanted to grow up and be like the elegant ladies she read about in books and saw in paintings. But her hair grew so fast, and no one had taught her how to care for it properly yet.

“Ehehe! |You make a way better doll, Sona!|” Miho gleefully exclaimed, her fingers combing through thick tufts of blue hair.

Sona’s stomach turned. That distant feeling was coming closer. She could hear it.

“|You have pretty, pale skin, and your hair’s so soft and blue like the sky! Even your eyes are blue. I dunno anyone else with blue eyes. You’re so pretty to look at. I’m kinda jealous...|”

She could hear it now. This was a dream. A very bad dream. Sona couldn’t move her arms at all when she tried to. She wanted to knock Miho away, but the little girl was tying Sona’s hair around her neck.

“|You can’t talk either. It’s like you’re not even human when you think about it.|”

‘Stop’ she tried to plead, but even her inner most voice fell silent. Even in dreams she couldn’t speak, no matter how hard she tried.

“|Maybe you’re a magic rock doll?|” Miho wondered, pulling on the sides of Sona’s hair that wrapped around her throat. “|You grow, and your hair grows, but everything else is hollow inside. Oh! I wonder if your head pops off, too!|”

The head on rock dolls was sewn onto the soft cloth bodies. If you played too roughly the seams would easily snap. You could then see that the doll’s head was, in fact, hollow inside. They had to be. Otherwise the dolls would be terribly top heavy. But it also made them very fragile...

‘I’m not a doll!’ Sona pleaded, struggling against the bonds of her dream. In real life the real Sona was thrashing about in bed.

“|You shouldn’t move around so much! You’ll get dirty and cracked! That’s what happened to my last doll...|”

And like a magnet’s pull, as if she had already somehow known to look, Sona’s wide blue eyes shot to Tsubume sitting on the ground. She was broken now. Her stone face cracked right down one of her dark eyes and through her tiny red-lipped smile. She remembers, vaguely, somewhere in the mist of terror and memories, how she found Tsubume in the yard one day broken like that. The real Miho said it was an accident. That Tsubume had always been clumsy. That it was her own fault.

‘I am not a doll! I am not a doll!!’

Finally, mercifully, Sona shot up and sideways and curled into herself in bed. Her arms, finally freed from their invisible bonds, felt around her sheets frantically. Searching. Feeling. She just wanted to feel something real. Her head was spinning with dreaming horror that it was up to her sense of touch to ground her, in that way. It was otherwise too quiet to rely on sound. Only Sona’s gasping, panting breath could be heard in the dead of night in her room. Her cat wasn’t even with her tonight to meow at her for waking him.

One of her hands found her throat. it felt fine. No marks, no strain. It was all fine. Just a nightmare. Miho, to Sona’s memory, was not some crazed childish killer. Careless at the time, perhaps, and maybe even a bit self-centered, but certainly not a murderer.

Though she had made comments on one occasion saying how Sona would make a fine doll. It’d always bothered her to be thought of that way. To be some object that someone could decide what she was thinking or feeling all because she couldn’t speak for herself. Or one of those mechanical turn-key music boxes from Piltover that played pretty little tunes while a tiny figure spun in circles.

She thinks, and she feels, and she cries a little, and she prays that she never cracks... As if that would be some kind of final, deciding proof.

#drabble #just a thing I felt like writing #it's been hard to focus honestly #but have this for now <3 #writing the mildest of horror themes pfft

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