#it just lacks sharpness and organic elements

[brzaski]

a bit too many songs on the new hozier's album have a vibe of a romantic comedy ending credits...

#i mean the melody #it's so overproduced at times #too spacious but not in a good way #and so similar to each other #they shouldn't have let him use so much drums everywhere #im disappointed a bit #i don't really vibe with this pop rock style he's going for now #i hope he'll do some more experimenting/diversity in the next projects #it just lacks sharpness and organic elements #(this is my own subjective opinion don't hate on me) #he can do what he wants it's his music not mine and i still kinda like some songs from the album #but compared to the other albums this one just feels too bland #melodically/instrumentally at least

[dragonskulls]

i posted a wip of this like 3 months ago on my main and i just abandoned it until recently 💀 but anyways MASSIVE thank you to @lavenderandhightides and @theevilicecreamsoda for helping me sort some of this stuff out (i still have yet to decide on specific names for individuals of each quiver grrr)

under the cut are some written things going in detail of *waves around* this, though i am missing some other aspects that will be revealed eventually and to make this not as painful to read (plus a normal/no warning stripes version of the swamp ashwing)

✧Swamp ashwing: the inhabitants of the Quiet Swamp have evolved dark colored scales to blend in with their gloomy environment, this camouflage help them avoid the many dangers that lurk there, and to effectively stalk their prey. Masters of stealth, they can easily hide amongst thick foliage or in murky waters found in their territory. Paired with their camouflaged scales, nocturnal lifestyle, and acute senses, they’re very rare to see. A third eyelid with dull patterning can hide their vibrant eyes when necessary. Their most distinctive trait is their noxious venom. Effects and potency of this venom varies between individuals. Venom potency and its effects can be identified by the hue of the colorful highlights found on their body, eyes, spines, and frills. These highlights are usually kept hidden, but when facing a threat, they can suddenly come to life. These set markings can rapidly change to a bright color, making a threatening flashy display to scare away predators, pumping blood to their frills (located either in the mouth, throat or behind the ears) adds more spectacle. These color changing scales are found in “predetermined patterns” covering their wings and bodies (shaped as stripes, dots, or fake eyespots on the wing membrane). These scales can only change to their overall highlight color, but clever ashwings can rapidly flicker their scales to make it seem as if the colors are moving. If these highlights are warmer in color, the venom isn’t as deadly but the individual has more poison resistance. Rarer, cooler tones such as blue or purple, are much more deadly, but are weaker against other poisons. Their venom can be secreted from their mouth as well as from long, brightly colored venom-tipped spines located on their neck and tails. This venom then can be used to coat their scales, claws and spines for more destructive attacks. Inside their mouth, they have backwards curved teeth as well as infectious salvia as they use to seize prey. This gives the saliva and venom enough time to seep into prey. As well as toxic saliva, they have a set of four long semi-retractable fangs, where a second type of venom is produced in small quantities, but is much more fatal. The types and effects vary, from paralysis, hallucinogenic, necrotic, acidic, neurotoxic, and more, though these effects differ in rarity. Usually, this venom is only used in life or death situations. Aside from their venom, they have heat pit organs in their snouts which help them locate friend or foe in the dense jungles of their marshy home. They can also eat foods that would be dangerous to other ashwings, as they have an efficient metabolism that can neutralize or repurpose these toxins.

✧Highland mountain ashwing: living up in the highest peaks of the mountains, highland ashwings are the best at flight. Having sharp eyes, massive feathered wings and strong muscles, they can fly for hours, and depending on their wing shape, can be specialized for agility, speed or endurance. Their feathers are laced with chemicals that make them fairly resistant to fire and the elements, but not completely fire proof. A pair of ailerons on their lower hips help provide more control in turns and direction. Feathers that aren't for flight —which grow along their underbellies— are useful for thermal insulation in the chilly winter skies, and can be used to build warmer nests for hatchlings. They lack incisive or canine teeth, but make up for it with strong, hooked beaks, that can be sharpened to a deadly edge, as well as an extremely strong grip in their sharp talons. Their fire is also hotter than any other quiver or Pyrrhian tribe, being concentrated in a blindingly bright, white jet of searing flames. They're the only variety with noticeable sexual dimorphism: males have slightly bigger and very colorful crests, while females' crests are smaller but sharper, and always dull in color. These crests are semi hollow, and while being mostly useless for combat —unlike their lowland counterparts— they can be used for singing. Bigger and more ornamental feathers also add to this, but these aren't exclusive to males, simply much more common.

✧Coast ashwing: a community of proud warriors, coast ashwings are known for their many tricks in claw to claw combat. Their detachable spines are flat and sharp like razor blades, being able to cut deeper into the flesh, especially if thrown with a lot of force, and they posses a claw on their index digits, longer and sharper than the rest —sometimes even having small barbs or hooks. Their two rows of constantly replacing teeth can deliver rather nasty bites, made worse by a second speared tongue, which is usually kept hidden (as shown here), but can be rapidly stretched to twice their head length in the blink of an eye and skewer prey or the eyes of an opponent. Gills and rudder shaped tails give them a huge advantage in aquatic environments. Their bodies are slender with quite a lot of tightly packed in muscle, and their wings are long and narrow, similar to many sea birds. To deal with excess salt, they can expel it via sneezing or tears from their eyes. All ashwings have a third eyelid, and here they serve the function to protect their eyes from thrashing prey; the dark sclera gene is rather uncommon, and is only present in the Roaring Coast quiver and in the Silent Swamp. Another ability is that of sonar, useful in waters with low visibility, as well as long —but simple— long distance communication. To camouflage, most coastal ashwings have countershading: darker colors on the back and lighter ones on the ventral side, paired up with grayish colors, though warmer ones similar to the stones found in the shore are not rare either. The "smoother" parts of their skin have dermal denticles, which aid in reducing drag while underwater.

✧Moor ashwing: the smallest of the quivers, these dragons are best at speed. Facultative bipedals, they can outrun almost anything in the continent. Sickle claws on their back talons help in taking down larger prey by latching with them, and extra dewclaws/spurs and "blades" in wing digits, wrists or forearms are common here. Their wings are usually round and small, good for quick takeoffs and agility, but not so much for long flights. They're also the only ones who have detachable spines on not just their tails, but backs and necks too, working in a similar fashion to porcupines, offering more protection from attackers. Light and tan scales are perfect for hiding among the grass, and dark eye markings lessen the glare of the sun. With very good sense of smell and hearing, they are prolific hunters, this heightened by the fact that using wyverns in something similar to falconry is a very important part of their culture, as well as being surprisingly strong for their size. A known feature of moor ashwings is their extremely wide vocal range, making them able to mimic many sounds. Some individuals even have the ability to make deafening shrieks, which in close range can kill smaller prey and severely damage the hearing of dragons in close range, and in a slightly farther distance can disorient and confuse foes, as well as cause temporary hearing problems. To prevent their sensitive ears to be damaged while doing this, a small special muscle can cover the ear canal at will, acting as built-in ear plugs to protect their more delicate hearing organs. Their front talons have smaller claws and are more nimble, making them very talented crafters.

✧Lowland mountain ashwing: an almost complete oposite of highlanders, they are big, heavily armored, and very strong. Osteoderms all along their bodies offer a lot of protection against fire and claws, but their underbellies are still a more vulnerable part. Lowlanders have crests vaguely similar to their peak-dwelling quivermates, except these are made for fighting. A large plaque or bone shields their head and eyes, and give more stability to their crest. These appendages can be in the form of crests or horns, and are very varied between individuals in a similar way to their head horns. A well placed blow with one of these can be fatal. Bony plates at the tip of the snout make up beaks not too different to highlander ones, but they still have a stronger bite force —the strongest in the continent— able to crush rocks and shatter bone with their near constant replacing teeth. Large tusks are common, and when two dragons get "married", it's tradition to pull one out and carve patterns into it to give to their spouse as an engagement gift, since it can grow back, albeit taking longer. This monstrous bite force is used in another ability: while their fire is weaker than lowlanders, by crushing rocks and swallowing them, they can be stored in a sort of vesicle near their main fire organ, heating them up to become lava which can be spluttered out as a shorter ranged but more destructive form of fire breathing. Their talons and spines —including the detachable one— are sturdy but lack much edge, being better used as blunt force weapons, a few can even have spines similar to clubs in their tails. Biggest dragons in the continent, their wings are huge to support their massive weight, although even with that wingspan, they're slow and sluggish flyers. Females usually are bigger, with more muscle and more impressive crests, but the dimorphism isn't as notable and exceptions are more common. Lowlanders and highlanders diverged at some point in time —the ancient enchantment all ashwings have making their differences quickly contrast starkly— but they still live under the same quiver peacefully.

✧Forest ashwing: said to be the ones that resemble their precursors and common ancestors most, the Frostwings, out of all the quivers. Living in the forest, food and shelter is readily available, so the need to evolve wasn't as significant or urgent. Frost breath is still present, but commonly in the "must be cold enough to breathe out ice" way, with few individuals being able to spit it out whenever. Physiology and ability-wise they've stayed pretty much the same throughout the years, with the most noticeable changes being their deer-like antlers —though simpler straight horns aren't completely gone— used for less extreme fighting and foraging for food such as tree bark, as well as their fur. This fur helps a lot to stay warm in the cold winter months, as well as giving more protection to their vulnerable undersides. During spring and summer, this fur falls off, leaving only a short and velvety layer of pelage.

✧The ashwings are a very varied species, and even within quivers some uncommon abilities or traits may appear out of nowhere in a few dragons, and traits aren't completely homogeneous due to the nature of the enchantment bestowed upon them by permafrost (individuals may differ in physical traits shown, lacking or having more than the average)

#wof #wings of fire #wof fantribe #ashwing #dragons #GOOD LIRD this was in my drafts for so long omfg. the lineart is kinda old so that may be why it looks kinda wonky #BUT!!! you can see i incorporated some hcs people provided (i have the credits up in my faq page btw) #if i missed something or i made a typo im going to scream

[brownhairedbookworm]

Jack In!! Ch3 - Sword of the Witch

Okay... just breathe. Yuri tightly grips her PET in her hand. The break is still in effect. She doesn't need to be in position, yet, but she also needs to be in position. Yuri takes a lock of her violet hair into her free hand and rolls her thumb over it. Breathe. Relax. Everything will be fine...

"Lady Sakuraba? Do you need my assistance?" A sharp, dignified voice calls to her from the purple PET in her deathgrip. BladeMan...

"Ah... P-please, BladeMan. I..." Yuri curls in on herself, looking down at the screen.

"Worry not. Simply look toward me. Breathe in time with the size of the circle." Blade Man loads a simple black and white animation. He keeps an eye on Yuri's motions as her position rises and falls with the slow, guided breathing. "All will be well, as I'm sure you've been telling yourself. There are no high stakes in today's activity. We are out with our friends, and they will protect us if it's needed."

"In...hhhhhh... out... hoooo..." Yuri repeats the breathing exercise with closed eyes. She knows the timing like the sight of her own hands at this point.

"There. Your heart rate has decreased. Do you need to proceed with a sensory evaluation?"

"No... Thank you, BladeMan."

"It is my absolute pleasure, Lady Sakuraba." BladeMan bows at Yuri from his screen. His knife-shaped head could nearly cut its way through, if he weren't a virtual being.

"Simply 'Yuri', today, BladeMan. After all, we're partners in battle. Not a knight and his master." Yuri smiles down at him.

"As you wish, Lady Yuri."

"Thank you, again, BladeMan. I always know I can count on you." Yuri takes another deep breath. Now that her nerves are better under control, she has time to take a look at her surroundings and Dr. Hikari's presentation.

She isn't surprised to see her passive synchronization with BladeMan is just about as high as Lan and MegaMan's. Though they've left the room for now, they're still connected to the readers and the SciLab network.

The pairs have a similar amount of history between them. Even among those who aren't privy to Dr. Hikari's experimental designs, everyone knows of "The Hikari Brothers" and their exceptional friendship and cooperation that they love showing off. Slightly less believed by the public are the claims that the pair of them are largely responsible for the dissolution of the infamous cyberterrorist group, the WWW.

Nearly as long as those two have worked together, BladeMan has been helping Yuri manage her anxiety and now-only-occasional compulsions. His sharp design is a darkly comedic reminder of her previous mental state, but now? She trusts him as not only a guardian and assistant, but a friend.

Yuri takes another deep breath. She smiles as she looks over at her friends.

Natsuki is grumbling about her loss and pouting into her arms. The poor girl did her best in the fight against MegaMan. The bruise to her ego will fade with time, but she's welcome to be upset about it.

Sayori's rubbing Natsuki's back in circles. Her gentle smile is chipping away at Natsuki's stony sadness. She's infectious, like that. Yuri can't help but recall Sayori's efforts in keeping Yuri with her club. Smiling, gentle, and understanding, and oh so patient.

Monika is fidgeting with her hair and clearly doing her best to encourage Natsuki, but she's out of her element. The President of the Literature Club is organized, thoughtful, and has the best of intentions. However, navigating volatile emotions is a skill she hasn't had any chances to train.

Yuri looks back to the Netbattle terminal. She hopes she can put on a good show for the girls. While she's not the worst in the world, Yuri lacks confidence in her Netbattling skills. She just happens to have a strong bond with her Navi.

She starts spreading her chips out on the machine. Plenty of swords and melee attacks fill her library. BladeMan works best with those. Yuri holds up her final choice, examining it closely.

Muramasa... Tactically, it's a revenge device. Do she and BladeMan have enough stamina to make good use of it...?

"BladeMan, what do you think our strongest plan is, for this battle?" She sets her PET down on the terminal for BladeMan to look over their chip folder.

"Hm... Sirs Lan and MegaMan are fast opponents, to be sure, and their teamwork is outstanding. Their raw strength isn't to be underestimated, either." BladeMan hums, holding the tip of an arm-blade to where his chin might be. "... We will most likely not need the elemental swords, Lady Yuri. Against Lady Natsuki and Siren, I would recommend keeping our ElecSwords, but our battle with MegaMan will not be one of the classical elements, but of the element of surprise!"

"Ahh... You recommend Invis chips to replace them, then."

"Quite correct, Lady Yuri." The Navi nods. "In addition to those, perhaps some trap chips? AntiSword will likely be quite valuable."

"Ah, as well as the others. A BodyGuard wouldn't go amiss, certainly~" Yuri giggles as she swaps out yet more chips.

"Clever, Lady Yuri. I would also like to address Dr. Hikari with a question, if you don't mind?"

Yuri shakes her head. "Not at all, BladeMan. Ask him whatever you wish."

"Thank you, Lady Yuri." BladeMan jacks himself into the Netbattle terminal and shortly begins accessing the projectors. His imposing violet form appears above the machine, red eyes and sharp edges looking out into the room.

"Pardon me, Dr. Hikari? May I make a request?"

The scientist looks toward the projected Navi. "I'll have to make a judgement, once I know what it is, but I can hear you out!"

"To confirm my understanding of this experiment, the battles between MegaMan, Siren, and myself are to be considered part of your 'control' group, yes?"

Dr, Hikari nods in response. "Correct, BladeMan."

"And to that aim, the results of the battles themselves are not as important to your research as our ability to synchronize with our operators?"

"Once again, correct." Yuichiro adjusts his glasses.

"Thank you. I don't believe my request will cause any trouble, in such a case. May I alter the environment of our arena to suit our tactics? While it is clearly not fair to our absent opponents, I don't expect there will be any problems with the experiment if I am to do so."

Dr. Hikari leans back and strokes his chin. "Lan might complain, but you're definitely right. An advantage for an opponent doesn't actually cause issues with my experiment. Lan will probably be back from the break late, as well, so you have plenty of time."

"Thank you, sir." BladeMan raises his arm to his chest and bows. "I'll get right to work." The projector turns off, and the pair of purple people at the machine begin to put together their full plan.

---

"We're back. Sorry for the hold-up! I swear I need a new map for this place every few months..." Lan skates into the room, sliding to a stop at the Netbattle terminal.

Yuri nods and adjusts her position on the seat she's brought over to the machine. "It's no trouble for me. I can always use a few extra moments to prepare." She certainly won't complain about some extra seconds of peace. Keeping herself collected before the fight properly begins is important.

"I even predicted your late return, son." Dr. Hikari chuckles from his desk. "The penalty will be something you quickly discover, when you jack in."

"Awww, come on! Doesn't that make the experiment less viable?" Lan grumbles.

"Not in the slightest. We're only measuring Synchronization Rates." Yuichiro clears his throat. "In any case, if you're ready, Yuri and BladeMan are also ready."

The scientist stands up properly to do his limited duties as a tournament announcer. "NetOps, Jack in."

Yuri stands up from her chair. She nods, BladeMan is already in the machine, and they're both ready to battle.

"Jack in!! MegaMan, Execute!"

~ Vs. BladeMan.EXE ~

BladeMan stands in the forested arena with his eyes turned to the sky. He follows MegaMan's entry into the machine and stands at the ready to receive his "guest" in the shadows of the facade of his manor. "Are you prepared, Lady Yuri?"

"Yes, I am. I am focused and prepared for our battle."

BladeMan nods. He hears the slightest tingle of Yuri's voice inside his head, rather than coming to his ears. She's ready, and they'll be as much of a challenge as they can. His charge's nerves are only from the coming clash, now, and they'll quickly synchronize to the point where speech is unneeded.

MegaMan steps casually into the clearing at the center of the forested arena, standing before BladeMan. "Giving us an uphill battle, huh?"

"It could be said." BladeMan chuckles. "I hope you don't take too much offense. I simply made the request for Lady Yuri's sake, as we ended up having extra time for preparations."

"You have a good sense of doom built into it." The blue Navi nods with a friendly smirk. "Good luck backing that up!"

"Worry not, Sir MegaMan. I may have certain mannerisms, but I assure you," BladeMan raises his arm blades and swipes them along each other, "My name is not SwordMan or KnightMan. Fitting my designation, I am one of my Lady's many blades in the dark."

BladeMan grins as Dr. Hikari's voice booms in the sky. "Synchronization Experiments, Observational Battle Number 2, BladeMan.EXE versus MegaMan.EXE. Battle routine, Set."

MegaMan's face mask appears on his face and he draws his buster. "Execute!"

"Best of luck, Sirs Lan and MegaMan. Here's to a grand clash." BladeMan silently steps backward into the thick of the trees. He all but disappears from view.

Lady Yuri. I recommend a strong opener. Are you prepared with Bodyguard?

Yes. AntiNavi, AntiSword, AntiDmg, all in. Program Advance: Bodyguard. Yuri silently slides the chips into her PET.

BladeMan sighs softly as he feels the trap trigger load itself into his body. Perfect. Shall I begin the feint assault, Lady Yuri?

Proceed, BladeMan. Yuri can't help but chuckle to herself as she imagines this ploy going off almost perfectly. After all, every new tactic will earn a strategist at least one free hit.

BladeMan twists one of his arm blades around backward. He skulks behind MegaMan, ready to strike down at his spine. A slash upward after a stab in this position will cause plenty of damage, if he can pull it off.

MegaMan is swinging his buster around in a calculated motion. Good, he's being careful. But it won't be enough. "This place is giving me the creeps, Lan... I know it's not h-haunted, but the atmosphere is making my spine tingle..."

With his blade aimed for MegaMan's back, BladeMan slinks up to his opponent. "Perhaps I can be of assistance with that sensation?" He thrusts his blade downward toward the short, blue Navi's neck.

"Holy-?!" MegaMan twists around. A glowing blade materializes from his arm and he takes a swing at BladeMan even as the violet steel of the sneak attack slashes across his arm.

"Boo." BladeMan vanishes with a cackle as the sword flies right through him. Massive shurikens fly at MegaMan from the shadows of the forest.

BladeMan watches MegaMan dance around the shurikens. Even with the speed he's shown, he can't dodge forever.

"Gah!" MegaMan clutches at his side. Two of the shurikens managed to cut into him. He might be swift and powerful, but BladeMan knows he can't take too many big hits.

Of course, BladeMan doesn't expect the fight to end so early. Their stealthy tactics have been exposed, so their opponents will be properly on guard. It wouldn't surprise him if they got a bit trigger-happy, either.

Initial strikes successful, Lady Yuri. We have them at a disadvantage, for now.

The game is afoot. Yuri nods, focused on her chips and BladeMan's positioning. Not quite in range for a proper sneak attack, plus MegaMan is on guard for one, now. Her Navi remains still in the treetops as they both keep an eye on MegaMan for a proper opening to strike again.

The blue boy winces and shuffles backward. His buster is still held up high, a defensive position that won't be of any use. His jerky, panicked motions won't serve him, either.

Hm. Perhaps another of our easy hitters? AssassinSword should work on this field. Yuri holds the chip in her fingers. And you won't even have to do anything but drop onto the ground to make use of it.

I recommend using one of our Invis chips, first, Lady Yuri. After all, MegaMan is sure to look much less predictably through the trees after yet another surprise strike. BladeMan silently climbs down his chosen tree. He looks over to their opponent.

MegaMan is scanning much more erratically. He steps slowly along the grass-covered ground with a 360 degree spin of his buster with every cautious, fearful motion. His eyes dart about wildly.

In his panic, he’s become the perfect target for an invisible strike. If MegaMan doesn't think he can trust his eyes, he'll surely be even more shaken and begin leaving more openings. BladeMan crouches down and watches his prey cautiously move along.

Yuri inserts the Invis chip, and then AssassinSword. Chips all in. Make your move.

BladeMan fades from view and raises his bladed arm. Even without being able to see it, he feels the sword sharpen and change to a more razor-like shape. He swipes downward into the grass.

Like a properly cast spell, the blade appears behind MegaMan and takes a hard swing across his legs.

MegaMan yells in pain and drops to the ground. He keeps his buster up, sweeping around to try and catch BladeMan's motions. "Lan, I think we need to bust out an old trick, for this one..."

Lady Yuri, shall we attempt to bring an end to this? The fewer "tricks" they pull off, the better. BladeMan runs forth. His invisible form certainly isn't silent, but he should survive so long as MegaMan can't see him.

NeoVari in! SuperSonic blade mode! Yuri inserts the battlechip and taps out a code on her PET. Fire!

BladeMan's arms glow with a mystic energy. He makes a big swipe with both of his arms to launch a wave of the energy toward his target. "Goodbye, Sir MegaMan."

"DoubleSoul, SearchSoul!" MegaMan lays flat on the ground to dodge the shockwave. A flashing image of another Navi seems to superimpose over MegaMan. His form changes to mimic the image, sprouting bulky green armor along his limbs and torso.

The final change, and the newest danger to BladeMan, is a sniper rifle that forms over his Buster arm. A viewfinder pops down over MegaMan's left eye. "...Gotcha." He lowers his rifle and begins aiming for BladeMan with ease that shocks the sharper Navi and his partner.

"Ah, I see that invisibility has lost its advantage. Drat." BladeMan ducks behind a tree as a heavy bullet flies past his ear.

Lady Yuri, we may need a new plan. The stealth approach to this battle has become unusable. BladeMan ducks down. It won't be long until the next shot, and he had better not stay still.

Shit. Shit shit shit. Yuri drags her fingers along her chips, running through her mental index. Invisibility is out. What other blades do they have that can stand up to a sniper's aim? They got rid of the elemental swords for the invisibility and BodyGuard. Basic swords won't do anything to get them closer, even with a Program Advance!

Her finger strikes the solution. Yuri lets out a weak sigh of relief. StepSword, thank fuck... It's only one hit, but it might just be enough to get in and reach past the inner range of MegaMan's gun.

StepSword in. Get ready to rush him, BladeMan! Yuri slams the chip into her PET. It's do or die, now.

BladeMan waits just a second for the next shot to fly over his head. The top half of his cover tree has been obliterated. He leaps over the shredded wood and begins running for MegaMan. The warp takes him over into slicing range for a solid hit.

A blade parries his own, knocking his arm aside. MegaMan's rifle is lifted up into the air, and his left arm now sports a sword. The Navi smiles back at BladeMan. "We came ready for a sword fight! Just has to be off-handed, now!"

The dance of blades begins.

BladeMan has the numbers advantage in offense. Two blades against one would ordinarily lead to an easy advantage. Unfortunately, MegaMan can still block with his rifle. He can't use it to strike back meaningfully, but it's a barrier to BladeMan's progress. Every forward swing is easily redirected away from vital areas or completely absorbed by the rifle. The proper-mannered Navi swears under his breath as MegaMan continues to push him back and chip away at his blades.

As BladeMan blocks MegaMan's sword strikes with his arms, his synchronized NetOp twitches. Her arms are starting to... Oh no. Every "blocked" strike sends a spark along her nerves. The scars on her flesh feel like they're burning. They need to wrap this up, before she has an episode. Damn it, damn it, this started out so promising! Yuri grits her teeth and clamps down a scream of primal frustration.

Lady Yuri, calm yourself. Focus on the battle, not your physical body. BladeMan ducks into the foliage and begins retreating. He knows he can't lose MegaMan's sights at any range. But he also doesn't know how many more blocked sword strikes Yuri can handle.

Not an option. Fuck, we need to end the fight, right now! Then I can take care of... this. Muramasa in! Yuri quickly grabs her PET and stuffs the intimidating chip in. Finish this, Muramasa should have plenty of energy!

BladeMan's arm begins shimmering with dark energy. As you command, Lady Yuri. He'll have to rely on his natural speed against MegaMan's sniper aim. Their defense is half gone with only one normal arm. He holds his arm in front of his body for his best chance at guarding.

BladeMan leaps out of the brush and starts to zig-zag toward MegaMan. Maybe adding more motion can thwart the eagle eye of his opponent? His synchronization with Yuri is higher than ever. Even if it isn't quite up to Lan and MegaMan's level, it must be worth something. BladeMan raises the Muramasa and takes a swing with the evil blade as he barely enters melee range-

Kapow!

The shot slams through BladeMan's arm and chest and he falls to the ground. The dark shine of the Muramasa disappears after he tumbles forth a few meters past MegaMan. He digs an arm blade into the ground to lift himself up and face the other Navi. "Well-fought, Sir MegaMan. I have no regrets with this defeat."

Yuri clutches her chest with a massive shudder and wince. She leans onto the terminal and has to stiffly hold herself up with her free arm. The connection between Navi and Operator is intense when it reaches the heights that she and Lan have with their respective partners. As she pants and groans, she watches her Synchro Rating with BladeMan plummet. "Nn- B-BladeMan, jack out... We concede."

MegaMan gives BladeMan a playful salute as his green armor and rifle fade away. "Good fight, BladeMan. I'd love to take you on, another time."

BladeMan nods as he begins to fade away. "Another battle, some other day, would be splendid, Sir MegaMan. If you'll excuse me, I need to repair myself." He jacks out, disappearing from the field.

MegaMan follows BladeMan's example and exits the arena. The darkened forest and dimly lit manor backdrop disappear as the reset process leaves no evidence of the battle.

Dr. Hikari claps for the end of the match. "BladeMan.EXE defeated, MegaMan.EXE is the winner. Impressive tactical displays, all of you."

Yuri leans against the wall. She looks over at Monika with a tightened jaw and near-crazed eyes. "Monika. Stress balls. Please!"

Monika wastes no time grabbing them out of Yuri's school bag and handing them over.

"Thank you." Yuri squeezes the foam spheres in her hands. Her black nails dig in and nearly pierce their outer layers. She repeats the motion of squeezing and digging her fingers into the balls. Her arms feel so cold and itchy. But she can't give in, not here.

Yuri stares at her bag. She can swear she sees the ceramic knife glowing in its pocket. It's right there, she can just take her bag to the bathroom and-

A sudden warmth and weight press into her. Yuri gasps softly as the ringing in her ears fades away. How long has she been staring into space? What's holding her? She turns her purple eyes downward, to see...

"Sayori?" Why is her voice so hoarse? How hard has she been breathing?

"Yurrrrri~" The shorter girl smiles from her uncomfortable position of "chin against breasts". "I'm here to ground you! Is it working?"

"Y-yes, actually, um. Thank you. W-wow, your 'hug energy' is really something..." Yuri's posture sags a bit, and she returns the tight squeeze to Sayori. The urges have melted away, somehow, and Yuri is forever going to be grateful to her friend.

"You know it!" Sayori laughs, patting Yuri's back. "Let's go sit down. I'll get you some extra water and we'll all just sit together for a while, yeah?"

Yuri nods. "Sounds divine... I wish I'd brought my heating thermos, I would make everyone some tea."

"I could go find a kettle for you." Dr. Hikari calls from his desk. "It's the least I can do, during our second break in the experiment. To say nothing of whatever you might be currently dealing with, you took a shot to the chest at over 180% synchronization." He gestures at the experiment's data display.

Indeed, those are the numbers. MegaMan and Lan managed to reach 220%, the naturals that they are. Seems they didn't fully synchronize, like the last match, but they got very close. Lan is clearly also in need of a break, rubbing at his arm where BladeMan cut across MegaMan's.

"If you would, Dr. Hikari, I would greatly appreciate it." Yuri smiles as Sayori nudges her into a seat next to the other two girls. "I'm... Well, now that I have a moment, I can tell how exhausted I am. I can't do any brewing myself, but I'll be happy to contribute my own tea. I brought some bags of orange blossom tea today!"

"That sounds wonderful, Yuri! I'll go get the kettle. For now, you kids just rest. We'll take a lengthily extended break to recharge, and then we'll get down to business again." Dr. Hikari exits the room.

Yuri deflates into the back of her seat. "Oough... Someone wake me, when he returns. I need to," A yawn loudly interrupts her sentence, "Ohhh... I need a nap.."

"Sleep good, Yuri! We'll get you back up, when we need you." Sayori strokes Yuri's shoulder. Monika and Natsuki pipe in with some quiet sounds of agreement.

And so Yuri falls into a deep slumber. At least, as deep as she can get in a government lab's office chair.

Monika and Sayori smile at her as her body melts into the chair.

"Guess this means we're next, right Moni?" Sayori grins, excited to take part in her little section of scientific history.

"That we are. Are you ready to do this?" Monika smiles back at her.

"Always, with you!"

"Oh, get a room, you two." Natsuki snickers from behind them.

The two girls can't help but laugh along with her.

#drabble #Jack In #once again comments plz on the AO3! #ddlc #mmbn

[lagoonalake]

MAMAMOO IDEAL TYPE

SOLAR

Personality: queen of pentacles, 9 of wands, 6 of swords

Someone stable, grounded, organized, always prepared. Could be the serious type, someone who is good at managing money. Someone supportive and reliable. Could be more serious. A bit stoic, who doesn’t open up to just anyone that easily, with strong boundaries. Someone very sensual, physical touch is important to her. Someone with a reassuring, healing presence. Someone protective. Someone who went through stuff and understand what it is to work hard on yourself, someone mentally and emotionally intelligent and mature, insightful, wise. all earth signs, scorpio, aquarius

Appearance: temperance, 9 of wands, the tower

Someone intimidating, a bit cold at first, someone who seems very calm and stoic on the surface, but passion is boiling just underneath the surface, someone with intense burning eyes, but a poker face, who doesn’t move too much, with a certain stillness, quiet, reserved. Tall, dramatic appearance, striking, chiseled, unique features. Deep voice. Think T.O.P from Big Bang.  scorpio, saturn, aquarius, capricorn, aries

Turn offs: queen of swords, judgement, 3 of swords

Someone who is too uptight, high maintenance, snobbish. Someone who hides behind a mask. Someone who doesn’t have any warmth behind their apparent coldness. Insensitive, detached, blunt. A cheater. Someone who doesn’t trust her, is always suspicious, jealous, spies on her. Someone who is manipulative, who always provokes crisis, who has no stability and wants to always start a “new beginning”, who is a bit of an adrenaline junkie, destructive and unable to stick to something and commit.  negative capricorn, scorpio, aquarius, gemini

MOONBYUL

Personality: ace of pentacles, the emperor, 7 of swords

She is attracted to a strong individual with a lot of authority. Self-made. Someone practical who knows what it is to struggle in life but who is able to see every opportunity that presents itself and seize it. Someone who would support her career and very career oriented themselves. Successful, respectable, independent. Cunning, intelligent, who understands the business they are in, a strategist. Cautious and resourceful. Could be rather opportunistic and very ambitious. It’s not like she would get fooled by them though, she sees relationships as a way to support and be “useful” to one another, she has a practical view of relationships.  capricorn, saturn, aries, gemini

Appearance: justice, 9 of pentacles, the devil

Sharp, striking, even intimidating features, tall, quite sexy and attractive, sensual, very hypnotic eyes and body language, someone a bit hedonistic, comfortable in their body, not too skinny. A clean cut style with a sexy element, could be someone wearing tailored clothes but with a very come hither expression. Someone who looks tough, confident, a bit dangerous. Alluring voice. Colors dark or neutral, not too flashy.  saturn, capricorn, scorpio, taurus

Turn offs: death, 5 of cups, 7 of cups

Someone oversensitive, emotional, unstable, intense, clingy, jealous, possessive. Someone who plays the victim. Displays of emotions, whether in public or private. People who are out of touch with reality, dramatic people. People who are confusing, vague, lack of clarity. People who don’t know what they want. Co-dependency. All waters signs, neptune, pluto, moon

WHEEIN

Personality: king of pentacles, justice, ace of cups

She is attracted to a very stable, grounded, chill type of person, someone moderate, balanced, who takes their time, not in a rush. Well established in life, cautious about finances and good at business. A good talker. Someone who has a balanced mind, logical but who is also demonstrative, affectionate, expressive when it comes to their emotions. Someone who feels strongly, deeply. A sweetheart. Protective. A romantic who seems more concerned about career at first bit is actually a bit needy. A very giving, kind, generous individual who would treat her as an equal. Humanitarian. Kind bear energy. taurus, pisces, leo,  aquarius, jupiter

Appearance: 6 of wands, 3 of pentacles, page of cups

Proud, regal, good posture, a bit cocky in appearance but likable. Innocence. Could prefer someone a bit younger than her or more youthful, spontaneous. Athletic body but soft features, approachable, friendly, happy, honest, roundish open face that can be read like an open book. Wide features. Tanned skin. Big eyes, big wide smile, big teeth. Relaxed, creative, colorful style. Artistic bohemian hippie style, could be into dancers or people who play instruments. Short hair.  leo, sagittarius, jupiter, pisces

Turn offs: 3 of swords, the sun, 9 of cups

People who just want a good time, disloyal people who can’t control their urges and cheat, slobs, attention seekers, lazy people who think they deserve the world but don’t lift a finger, liars, players, narcissistic people, people who use others for their own pleasure, fame got to their head, people obsessed with their image, shallow, childish, spoiled brat, overindulgent people who party and drink all the time. negative leo, pisces, neptune, taurus

HWASA

Personality: knight of pentacles, 9 of pentacles, king of pentacles

Someone very earthy, she got all the pentacles and all of the girls seem to prefer earthy partners. Someone very stable, grounded, cautious, someone who isn’t in a rush, appreciates life. Slow moving but always finish what they start. Serene, peaceful, secure. Possibly rich, with a big house, an empire, who has a lot of abundance to offer. Luxurious. Not a showoff though, they would be humble about it. Could be older than her, very established and respectable. An important powerful person who could help her with her career too. Very generous, calm and reassuring presence. Friendly, smiley and warm. Very kind with her. Hedonistic energy. Quite sensual. She needs the closeness in relationship, to spend a lot of time with her partner.  all earth signs, especially taurus, venus

Appearance: 5 of swords, 7 of swords, 10 of wands

The physical looks she tends to be attracted to seems very different from the personality that she likes, so it’s possible that she gets attracted to the wrong type. She likes someone who can look a bit mean, a bit cunning, like they are up to something, a trickster, someone with sharp features, long nose, pointy features, mischievous looks, someone who could look very intense, she could like someone whose presence feels overwhelming, invasive even, she likes to feel trapped like that. Someone who can look two faced. Smirking face. Skinny, slender, tall, lanky frame. Foxy, wolfish face. Could look sexy in a messy, unkempt, disheveled way. Lighter colors. Raspy voice. gemini, aries, mercury, mars

Turn offs: the fool, 5 of cups, 8 of wands

Impulsive, naive people. people who don’t think before they act, recklessness. People who feel sorry for themselves, play the victim. People who always complain and share their sad stories with others. Big display of emotions. Tears in general. Needy people. Stupid, ignorant, extreme people with no nuance. People who are easily influenced by others and have no opinion of their own.  negative cancer, aries, neptune

#mamamoo #mamamoo tarot #mamamoo ideal type #solar #moonbyul #wheein #hwasa #kpop #kpop tarot #kpop ideal type

[bigdvmnhero]

summary:

"They say you'll save us all," the yokai continued. "A lofty fate. Wouldn't you say, ronin?" I don't want it, Mikey thought, surprised by the fierceness of it. Take it from me.

chapter two | prev | ao3

It had been a good few paralyzing months since Leo last answered to anyone, but April would be damned if she let him walk away now. "C'mon, Leo," she called after him. "Calm down."

"I'm calm?" came the bewildered laugh.

But the brisk footfalls ahead slowed, and Leo pulled his sword arm back to slice a platter-sized portal open. Then he shoved his head inside it.

Distantly, April thought she heard a muffled pterodactyl screech of pure, unbridled fury.

A passing soldier broke into a panicked half-jog.

"See?" Leo stepped back, and his eyes were unfazed when he fastened them on her. "I'm great. Just—fantastic." The portal twinkled behind him; in another universe, April would have cannonballed right in, straight into a life sweet as neon punch. "Wanna try?" he offered brightly.

April didn't trust that grin; it had secret blades hidden all over it. Leo's weapon of choice.

Silence, it appeared, was April's. Something Leo had very little experience with it. For all his expertise, he tended to buckle under it in seconds. Starting now.

"You could toss stuff into it too," Leo added, conspiratory. "Just don't ask me where it goes."

April crossed her arms.

"Don't wooooorry about it—it's a Donnie problem, m'kay? Just find something fun to break."

Ten seconds. In the meantime, April mastered her best impression of a rock. Flat and unimpressed.

"Maybe not anything useful though. I kinda love having chairs. Donnie's bunsen burners, though..."

She pitched an eyebrow up—the final blow. Leo sagged like a puppet.

"Fine." He twirled his sword and the portal sewed itself shut. "But don't come looking for me when you're feeling cranky..."

The abandoned subterranean warehouse they called their base offered near-complete protection from the elements, courtesy of Donnie most of all. A tradeoff was the lack of private enclosures to talk shit about little brothers, or even to enjoy a brief mental breakdown under the impossible weight of the apocalypse.

This, April reasoned, was the only reason Leo remained standing, hip-cocked, seemingly unbowed by the promise of her verbal fire. "Listen, alright?" she began—biting back the you dumb little shit her own trigger-happy tongue threatened to fire—she could be zen; remember your training, O'Neil? "All I'm saying is, you can't run your men ragged like that."

"Oh, my fault? I'm running them ragged?" And god, Leo could be such a drama kid when he wanted to be. "Who keeps pulling them out of the field last minute? Who's stuffing them in airships to play babysitter for billionaires doing fuck all to help us, because their butler Miguel just got Kraangified cleaning the fucking—infinity pool, or whatever? Not me. I'm not their leader."

"Well, you sure are actin' like it," she answered, and they stood there looking cross at each other as another soldier squirreled past them. The boy had waved seeing April from the end of the hallway, only to skip past as if dodging hot coals after realizing Leo was standing there too, like a vengeful apparition of god.

Under the dull warehouse fluorescents, Leo was less god, more patron saint of jaded-eyed misery. Some missionary for the church of Stick Up My Ass. And anyway, April's faith was deteriorating, and fast.

Away from the blitz of the battlefield, the civilians' adoring eyes, this version of Leo was a blunted edge. She missed his sharp jokes. She'd never say it, but it was one of the things she envied most about him. Clever-quipped, facetious, all-seeing Leo. Come back, idiot, she thought.

Alone again, she rounded on him. "Didn't we talk about this? Like it or not, these men aren't trained like us. We gotta set our expectations straight. Those guys? They are our fair-weather rag-tag volunteer team. At least, for now. And most of 'em think we're just dumb kids, Lee. They're not gonna fall in line all because we know a ninja trick or two!"

Leo lifted his chin. "Well, if their men are so important to them, why aren't the EPF here? Why are we the ones training them? Even Donnie's supplying most of our arms at this rate. Hell—we're feeding them! Three meals a day, April; like we're some kind of roadside hotel—"

"Rats and sci-fi food cubes are hardly—"

"What am I supposed to do then?" The question was sudden, gummed with emotion, and that was how April knew Leo was cracking. Finally—something real. "Raph's out there, risking his shell each day so no alien overlords breach our border. Donnie's straight up killing himself just trying to keep our base functional, and Mikey—" Leo's throat swallowed the rest. April looked away. Easier to finish the sentence for him in her own mind: Mikey, who phased through the days, seemingly unchanged. Mikey, who never cried since.

Leo dragged a hand down his face. "Meal planning should be the least of our concerns. These guys are eating through our rations—rations civilians are happy to give up, by the way, if it means we can protect them. And I can overlook them being sloppy and untrained—I'll take a little mutant racism, too, sure, why not!" April winced. "But complaining about the food? Come on," and the laugh was wrong all over, barbed with something dark.

April couldn't blame him; it had bothered her too, the way they took hesitant bites of the tough white bread they'd served, half-emptied the cans of beans and dried meat, pushing their plates away, the stuff unfinished, and sure it had been the old same fare they'd been having for the past four months—going on five now—the taste long indistinguishable from dusty cinder blocks, but it was all they had. It was that, or Donnie's nutrient cubes. Or the rats. At least they had options.

People died for those options.

Killed, too.

"I get it," April said, but Leo was shaking his head.

"Do you? 'Cause I'm sick of this publicity stunt the EPF's doing. Calling me and my brothers heroes, then leaving us with what? Psh." He sent a bitter smile skyward that could've melted through the beams. "I'm done."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm not about this puppet leader gig, April. Or the lies, or the sappy radio speeches I gotta do every week to convince the world everything's sunny and great and nice. It's clear none of them care about protecting the little guys." His voice dropped into a hardened stone, the resoluteness in it barely restrained. He stepped close. "Me? I'm ready to do something real, April. Something big. And I need real soldiers out there. In the dirt, with me. With us."

Later, she would regret not telling him of the deep pride she felt for him, at that moment. But in her chest was its twin star—grief, white-hot and insistent. It demanded all of her. "I hear ya, Leo. I promise." She reached for his bristling shoulder. "But you need... you need to give them time. They've lost stuff too, you know."

"Not this," Leo groaned, then turned to resume his march down the hallway. April gave chase. In the past month alone Leo had shot up like an oak tree; it was taking her twice as many steps just to keep up.

"C'mon, Lee. Wait."

He kept walking.

"Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that." He threw finger guns in the air.

Well, damn, April thought, nobody told me today was Little Shit Sunday, and pulled him by his mask tails.

Leo yelped something undignified.

He was so used to people walking on eggshells around him he'd forgotten how rotten April's big sister play could be, and honestly? That was on him. Six feet tall, and it was still on him.

Leo whirled on her, face twisted in exaggerated affront. Gleefully, April wished she had a camera; Raph would eat this up, like the day Leo's own blade snapped in his face. Never heard the end of it. "I wasn't finished. So! Ready to listen now?"

"Yeah," Leo said. He didn't look happy about it.

"Good. Thought so. 'Cause I was just about to say that yesterday, these guys weren't soldiers. They were just people. Know what I mean? Just dumb, silly people, silly kids, with jobs and hobbies and stuff to look forward to. And now they're soldiers. Y'know what that's like?"

Leo glued his eyes stubbornly on the bare cement wall behind her, but he let his jaw be turned. There was a new notch in his shoulder, healing nicely; April had stitched it herself. Leo didn't cry, but he'd clutched at April's knee the whole time, his grip clammy and white-knuckled. Said, what's a turtle gotta do to get some entertainment 'round here? And, wait, don't use up the thread, Cass's gonna need to change hers out sooner or later.

"Maybe," Leo answered.

"Nah, I know you do," April said—their best friend April now, not war advisor April or whatever role she played to keep them all sane. "Bet you know it better than any of us. Oi—eyes on me. Whatcha thinking about in that head of yours anyway?"

"Well, for one—" he pushed her hand away, but there was something shifting aside in his face, "how the only reason any of those guys listen to me is because of you." When April snorted, he continued. "I'm not trying to flatter you. If you hadn't spoken for us back then, I'm pretty sure the EPF would've gotten rid of us. Bet they're just itching to finish the job."

April didn't like to think about that. "Well, that's 'cause none of you know when to keep your mouths shut. Someone's gotta keep your asses in line. Maybe I will be commander one day, just for that." When Leo didn't seem to toss the idea aside like she wanted him to, she shook his shoulders before the conspiring glint in his eye could manifest into something. "All I'm saying is, y'all stuck with me. And I see you, Leo."

She cupped his cheek again. A long time ago, Leo would've leaned into her hand, basked in her easy affection. Now he turned rigid under any touch.

"I know things are all sorts of fucked right now, but I'm your friend first. Always am. We're on your side. 'Kay?"

Leo's eyes went back to the wall; April turned his face again, patient.

"And your brothers are war machines, sure. But they're your brothers, too." She couldn't help it—she pinched both his cheeks hard. Leo yelped then glowered. April stood her ground; the guy had to be put in his place regularly, or there was just no living with him. "And you're not just their leader. Not to them. Got it?"

"—seriously manhandling—"

"Got it?"

"—yes ma'am, okay, sheesh!"

"And you," April called out, lifting her gaze skyward, "you're not slick. I can literally hear you breathing."

Twenty feet up, hanging upside down from the high ceiling by spidershell-arms, Donnie and Mikey stared back with wide eyes.

In Mikey's arms was a hefty black vinyl bag, nearly twice his size. In Donnie's arms was Mikey. They shared a brief look that belonged to two doomed men and seemed to swallow their tongues.

An eternity passed in stilted silence.

For the first time in his life, Leo didn't get the first word in.

"Oh, mama, and would you look at the time, Dee—we are crazy late for brunch service!" Mikey kicked Donnie into action, and they crawled and skittered and fumbled through the final stretch to the hatch in the ceiling, which Donnie's robo-arms began to dismantle with frenetic speed. "Gotta run! I've got an army to feed, like literally! Talk later, 'kay?"

With a crash, they disappeared in a blur of robo-arms. The hatch fell shut. The echo traveled boldly through the wide enclosure, and, horrified, April turned to watch the way Leo's face changed, realizing it mattered little if she'd given him an earful that day or not; not when Mikey would figure out how to soften up the resistance members in ways Leo couldn't even fathom—all with a bowl of leftover rice fluffed with heat, scallions, eggs—"Eggs?!" Leo repeated—a dash of patience, and good ol' MSG, sweetening the dank underground base with the ambrosial smell of homemade cooking, all made in Splints' trusty rice cooker—and boy did they love that rice cooker. Hadn't that been exactly one of Splinter's lessons to her?

She shook her head with a smile, watching the miracle unfold. That's right, she thought. The fight you win is the fight you don't need to have.

Oh, Splints. She missed him something fierce. Later, she would crack open her old martial arts book to study her own sixteen-year-old writing on the margins, lessons from a lifetime ago trying to save the last great Lou Jitsu dojo. Splinter taught her everything she knew.

Maybe there had been things she'd dropped along the way. But now she picked up that old snakeskin, and remembered.

:::

They'd started off on the wrong foot—but even that was probably an understatement, wasn't it? Before they were violently forced underground, they were garment workers, porters, fishermen, who knew very little of New York and its supposed mutant saviors. To them, Mikey and his brothers were science fiction: green, scaly abominations from botched Frankensteinian experiments.

I'll take it, Raph had said. Way better than "demons." Remember the cult who tried trapping us in salt circles? Yeesh.

Donnie had shrugged it off. Mikey forgave it. Leo called it "a tactical advantage" and nurtured their fear until it grew into something else, something closer to awe.

For months, they shared no language. Nothing but the desire to survive. When Leo first showed the scrappy crowd how it was done—slaughtering a Kraang with nothing but rust-eaten gardening tools, stealth, and a whole lot of attitude—the spell was complete.

Almost.

Leo was used to leading three unruly brothers. But thirty? Mikey watched his brother's patience fray at the edges. Older survivors pointed at Leo's youth, but still Leo pushed, and he pushed hard.

Until they pushed back. Until the EPF started shuttling out their men, and their men let them, in exchange for one night of excess. Until they grew sick of the training, it was thankless work, sick of the drab, featureless cinderblock walls, of the bone-deep hunger, of the congealing loss of home far from the sun and Leo's uncanny asshole motherfucker era—ahem.

Mikey knew what he had to do. One spoonful of that fluffy, perfectly salted rice—and it had to be rice, didn't any of Mikey's brothers know these guys were kin? White bread for breakfast was just never gonna cut it—and the change was near palpable. Homesickness fled from their faces like horseflies. They filed into position, ready for the day's mission. Didn't even roll their eyes during Leo's attack demo of the day.

It had been just like this, once. Communal breakfasts every weekend. The lair smelling blessedly of butter. Mikey stacking each of his brothers' plates sky-high with pancakes, the thanks for the meal, Mikester, the head pats, the way Mikey loved life most when surrounded by all of them.

"By Galileo’s—is that a sugary drink." Donnie sat back on the bench at record speed when Mikey pulled out a Dr. Pepper he'd especially saved for this occasion. "I haven't had sugar in... I can't even say it. It’s too tragic.”

Mikey popped the lid and poured it delicately into his brother’s cup. Then, tongue poking out his mouth, he decided to tip the can over completely, letting it slosh around the sides. "Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?"

Donnie received his offering with wide eyes. "My cupeth."

Mikey clinked their cups together. "Shall runneth over, brother."

Donnie pulled one, long, hard gulp and considered the ceiling, dazed. He seemed to have arrived at some miraculous realization Mikey wasn’t privy to, like the secrets of nuclear fission, or the flight pattern of small, brown birds. "Huh. Wow." He blinked owlishly at Mikey, like he did at the end of a meditation, then put his cup down. He tapped his chest. "I suppose you may have one." He jabbed a finger in the air. "One!"

Mikey rose from his seat. "Dee…"

"One minute max," Donnie corrected firmly. But he unfurled his arms and smiled.

"One minute!" Mikey lost it. He threw himself into Donnie's embrace, and the bench almost tipped them over; this day was the best. Fluffy eggs on rice, Donnie hugs (twice! in one day!), and a happy resistance, at least for now.

His organic stash would need sorting. The leafy veggies had to be pickled, in jars of brine before winter arrived and frosted the base. Planting the beans would be easy, and easier still—the potatoes. Junior would love potatoes. Cloud-soft and heavenly once boiled. It would be months until their dumpster baby grew out his baby teeth; maybe they all could use something gentle.

And then Donnie stiffened in Mikey's arms, and Mikey knew his time was up.

Leo was walking towards their table.

"Alas, while this was delightful—" Donnie shot upright, "I must bid you farewell, beloved brother, for I have to.... dismantle a gun. Or several."

Mikey mirrored him. "M-me too!"

"You don't possess firearms."

"Well, I could!" Leo was drawing closer, his expression unreadable. "You don't know that!"

Donnie's eyebrows beetled quizzically. "Well, why haven't you shown me then? Do you need an upgrade?"

"An upgra—no! I got my own! Cool fire chain, remember!"

"Angelo, while your fundo is a highly impressive hand-held melee weapon, I would hardly place it in the same category as my own—"

"Donnie!" Mikey panicked. "I think we both agree we have very important things to do! Not here!"

"Right." Donnie nodded hastily. "Goodbye." They moved to part ways.

Something fast and made of steel flashed through the air. It thudded into the table between them, a perfect equidistance.

Leo's katana. The hilt convulsed like an arrow's feather.

Miraculously, Donnie lost his slouch, and Mikey let out an honest-to-god squeak, which could've been dignified if he wasn't seventeen and a half.

In the next second, Leo had apparated on the table across them, his grip loose on the hilt. He made no motion of pulling his weapon out. Instead, he reached over to peer curiously into Donnie's bowl.

"Leftovers? Come on, guys. We're better than this." Leo clucked. "Oh, lookity! These are prime stuff, Mike. Rice and eggs, too?" A long whistle. "Didn't know our desert hideout had a farm now. Why're you two standing there? Have somewhere to be? Sit."

They sat.

"Hi, Leo," Mikey managed.

"Hi, Mikey.” Leo rested his cheek on his palm. "Had fun today?"

"I did! I mean—" Donnie kicked his shin, and Mikey swallowed his story. There it was. Not a lot of people could tell the difference, but Mikey could. There was the resistance's Hamato Leonardo, and there was Leo, who normally had an airy head tone, was receptive to Mikey's puppy dog eyes, and did not fling sharp, damning sentences disguised as innocent open-ended questions, like so.

Donnie stepped in. “Alright Leo, I know our tardiness might've caused a bit of a surprise—“

“Oh, I knew,” Leo answered. “Raph said it’d be a quick detour. Probably super important, though, right?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Mikey said, at the same time Donnie mumbled a vindictive, that snitch, under his breath.

The bowl was poked, prodded, and sniffed in Leo's hand. “I mean, it must be. Important enough to miss morning drills.” Leo pulled his sword free. Donnie winced at the grating schwing. “But hey—at least breakfast is bomb, am I right?”

“The most important meal of the day?” Mikey tried weakly.

Officially, this was the worst; Donnie couldn’t lie to save his life, and Mikey’s resolve was slowly chipping away like paint under Leo’s magnifying-glass eyes.

Leo dipped his finger in the bowl and lifted a grain of rice to the light. It was short grain, firm and glutinous, grown only in the lush countryside. Or perfectly-engineered geodesic domes.

Leo made a low whistle. "Now, would you take a look at this beauty.”

Donnie seemed to understand they were damned. “I assure you, Nardo, it was a careful operation, everything was sourced ethically and responsibly.” To this, Leo snorted. “Alright. So the ethical part is... dubious. But the keyword is alive. Mikey’s safe, our hideout's uncompromised, and we’ve done the honors of feeding your soldiers a meal they probably haven’t had since the world went kaput. I don't see why you’re making such a fuss.”

"Oh, so we're going there? Okay." Leo leaned forward with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Why shouldn’t I worry. Starting with you, Dontron. Shall I count the ways?"

"I am detecting a rhetorical question—"

"One." Leo held a finger up. “You’ve had several heart palpitations during training this week—” Two fingers, “—April found you in the lab two days ago, because you had a cardiac episode from your blood pressure deciding to go skydiving—"

“What!” Betrayed, Mikey whipped his head back at Donnie, whose face seemed to have all the green frightened out of it. "Donnie!"

Leo continued, all three fingers up now, “Not to mention that time you went fucking blind in one eye because of a migraine, which—who knew, right? I sure as hell didn't."

“Ugh, yeah, I know." The Ceo and owner of Genius Tech groaned into his multiple spider-shell arms. "Embarrassing. LOL."

“LOL?” Leo's voice pitched strangely; Mikey couldn't look. "LOL?"

“Laugh out—look, it happened one time—“

"It should be ZERO times," Leo boomed, and the bowls shook as a fist pounded the table. For once Mikey agreed, feeling the first stirrings of understanding with this strange new bristling version of his brother, like the phony amalgamation of every parental figure in their sorry lives. This lasted for about two seconds. And then Leo whirled on him. "And you, Mikey darling, my baby brother."

"And me, your baby brother." The affection in Mikey's gut soured into dread. "And me..."

“Was it fun, doing some last-minute shopping at The Gardens?"

And darn, Leo was good. Too good. But Mikey’s prized hoard was still under the table, hidden behind the shadows and Mikey’s busted knees, undiscovered. Things were still salvageable.

While Mikey kicked the bag further into obscurity, Leo geared up for a Talk. “Honestly, joyrides in the middle of work aren’t for me, but I get it. Really, I do. This apocalypse sitch gets old, doesn't it? Food stinks, too. But it’s way too early in the game to be slacking off. If you wanna fuck off god knows where because you need a vacation? Be my guest. But you better be in the best shape of your lives. Better than ever. Better than me.”

Leo pushed himself off the bench and honest-to-god paced. Meanwhile, Donnie rolled his eyes so far back into his head Mikey was afraid it’d be permanent.

“We can't rely on our mystic powers anymore. I need you guys to hone your hard skills like they're the only tools you've got left. Because they are. People are counting on it." Leo paused to shoot a look over his shoulder. "Donnie-dear, if you don't start taking care of yourself and die a sad pathetic death in your lab, I promise, as your leader I am and will release all your tech to the EPF. Including all your trademark rights."

Donnie looked like he'd faint. "You wouldn't."

"Try me. And Mikey—we need to double down on your drills, and no more skipping out on training with Draxum. You can't razzmatazz out of this one. We need to figure out how to harness all that mystic potential of yours, and your basics are terrible as it is. What did we say about practicing?"

Mikey mumbled.

Leo tapped his ear. "Sorry, what was that?"

“Practice is your friend,” Mikey recited in a flat line. "For we are what we repeatedly do."

That seemed to perk Leo up. "Exactly! So I’ll see you for drills bright and early tomorrow morning.” Leo turned to go. “See? Knew you'd come around. And alright, I don't think your form is terrible, Mike—but you don't have to be doing all things all the time. I appreciate a little creativity in battle, but sometimes a good offense is a good defense."

“Sometimes a good offense is a good defense,” Mikey mimicked under his breath.

Leo froze mid-stride.

Mikey clapped a hand over his mouth with a resounding slap. Donnie, who had a semi-clear view of Leo’s face, turned his gaze to Mikey and gave a brief shake of his head. His flat, dead-eyed smile seemed to say, seeyanara, little brother.

“Leo,” Mikey tried, as Leo's back turned. “I mean—sensei. I mean—my big brother whom I love very very much, you know that, don't you? C’mon. I was just having a laugh, just having a little jokey-joke—”

“Changed my mind! We’ll do drills now, actually,” Leo said brightly. He clapped his hands once. “Twenty one-arm push-ups.”

Mikey collapsed like a Jenga pile onto the table. "Nooooo, not the push-ups! They get so old.”

“Fifty, then." Leo smiled, serene. "Where you going, Dee? You're up too. We’re sparring—and no battleshell tricks.”

“Please, god, why," Donnie moaned, at the same time Mikey begged, "Can I do some backflips instead?”

“A hundred then, lucky you!" Leo walked towards Mikey's end of the table, and Mikey didn't think he was going to do what he thought he was about to, but Leo had a penchant for surprising him. "Whatever that thing is under the table must be so worth it.”

Mikey's brain whited out. “Wait, wait! Don’t touch Donnie’s stuff!” and Leo paused, mid-reach. “He was scared we were running low on coffee rations, s-so we went to get a refill!”

A flicker of betrayal passed through Donnie's face. But he plastered on an unnatural smile. "Aha—whaaaat. Mikey.”

Leo’s calculating gaze hovered between them. But he’d stopped walking—small victories. “Thought we had a month of coffee left," he said, frowning.

"Apologies if I can't keep track of every single thing in this household!" Donnie shot back.

Leo crossed his arms. To Mikey, he barked, “Still no push-ups happening, camarada. You're not getting out of this one. And no magic gateways—"

Without warning, Donnie threw his weight carelessly onto Leo and dragged his bandana sideways so it blinded him. “Sparring!" he screeched. To Mikey: "Gateway, now! I’ll hold him back!”

Mikey needed no further instruction. He dived under the table, snatched his hoard while he pulled the portal open from beyond the verge—that was two mystic incidents today, Draxum was going to strangle him—and dove headfirst into the safe haven on the other side. “Bless you Dee, I will remember your sacrifice!” Baby brother privileges, babey.

:::

Donnie's sole makeshift hospital bed was permanently creaky now, no thanks to Cassandra's frequent visits.

She was in it every two weeks—grinning toothily through a broken bone or twenty. More recently, she enjoyed mounting full productions for her audience of one (1) wrinkly human baby. Donnie was not freaked out by this baby. If he was, it was not because the kid had way too much hair and eyes that absorbed all light or gurgled the way babies gurgled which made Donnie's chest go all funny and turn sideways-weird.

Imagine if I named the kid after another one of those renaissance dudes too, Cassandra cawed, doing jumping jacks on the bed with the kid giggling in her elbow until the final CRACK. They both looked down at the mattress. Now that was extra crunchy, Cassandra said.

Donnie kicked her out shortly.

Not, of course, before fixing the slipshod work she dared call a splint. And stay out! he'd yelled. I don't want to see your face here for at least two weeks, you hear me?

Gleefully, she flipped him off. In front of the kid, too.

Now the bed made a despondent creak as it accommodated Raph's weight. The heft of his new prosthetic confounded him, made him bump into corners, and accidentally crush people's fingers with his brand-new strength.

"Alright, bossman," Donnie sighed. Only 2:30 PM and he felt like he'd lived through a week. "You're up."

Raph managed to lie down. He took one look up at Donnie's world-weary face and smirked. "Chewed you out, didn't he."

"Yeah, well someone had to go and gab."

Donnie got his face squished like a grape for that. "Someone keeps forgetting I'm still the oldest. I may not be your leader, but you guys are still my pain in the ass. Knew you were up to something foolish. So fess up." Donnie made an indignant, muffled sound under Raph's bear hand. "What?"

Donnie gasped as Raph released him. "I was saying, Mikey needs his cooking essentials, and I need mine. We have a mutually beneficial partnership going on. That's all." He pulled his goggles down. "He's also my favorite brother, so." Meant: what Mikey wants, Mikey gets.

"Well, Mikey's going to be the death of you, at this rate." Raph narrowed his eyes. "But it looks like Leo took care of it, whatever that was. If I hear about you mutating any more leafy freaks though—"

Donnie's robo-arms, which had branched off from his shell to get to work on the prosthetic, paused mid-air as Donnie choked. "You dare speak ill of my daughter! Cristina, my beautiful venus fly trap, gone too soon—you will never understand! She was nature's most remarkable survivor, evolved to persist in nutrient-poor environments to fancy a pound of flesh." Donnie's gaze turned wistful. "I was so close, Raphael. Only a few experiments left before I rewired her wetware to develop a taste for vile Kraang meat."

"Nothing about that sentence terrifies me at all," Raph said.

"That is why you are my favorite patient. How was your week?"

Raph's head flopped back on the bed. "Shit. Where to begin?" He talked as Donnie tuned up his arm, telling him about the kid from the dumpster, the only miracle in the last few crappy, mind-numbing weeks; the Tamagotchi he and Cassandra found, still-slumbering in its million light year sleep; new Kraang-free patrol routes, and more secret pathways he'd negotiated with the help of the alliance; a dusty Walkman, a Foo Fighters cassette left in, for keeps.

In exchange, Donnie rambled on about their food supply, his EPF meeting notes, a hoverboard for Mikey, but under wraps for now, the new stealth gear prototypes he'd hoped would pass beta-testing soon, if only he'd more time to collect materials—

"Dee," Raph laughed up at him. “This isn’t one of your roundtable meetings, okay? It’s just me."

Donnie tightened a loose screw under Raph's armpit. "Oh, uh, of course. Lift your arm?"

Raph lifted it. "Oh yeah. Way better."

"Excellent. Your gait isn't as natural as I hoped, but I'll replace the hardware with lighter materials soon."

"Appreciate it, Dee. How'd you find time to get all this stuff?"

"I multitask. Wiggle your thumb?"

Raph wiggled it. "You getting enough sleep, though?"

Donnie laughed, too loud. "Squeeze your fist?"

"Seriously. How're things holding up?"

Donnie peered into a magnifying glass one of his shell-arms slid under his nose and poked around Raph's inner elbow, then fibula. "Truth be told? I'm surprised Earth Protection let us off easy today; then again, I am the brains behind this entire operation. It'd be amiss to threaten their very own arms provider. I should've known Mikey would pull something like this, but I'm just glad to see him—"

“I mean—how are you doing, Donnie?"

“Me?" Donnie blinked slow, like he'd never heard that sentence in that order before. "I'm fine. Can we try some wrist rotations?"

Unimpressed, Raph did as told. The motion was stilted; it couldn't do a full 360. The magnifying glass was swapped for a fine-toothed wrench.

"I'll fix that," Donnie said, then faltered when he realized Raph was still waiting on him, the weight in his eyes undeniable. "What? It's true."

And it was; confessions around Raph were easy somehow. Like how last night, Donnie had admitted thinking he'd definitely hit his rebellious edgy teenage phase under Splinter—heck, even Raph himself—but Leo? Now there was a surprise. And how the cookies Mikey baked Donnie made him break out. Some kind of delayed turtle allergy, and he'd kept eating the stuff anyway. How he both hated and secretly loved listening to Leo's radio speeches, in the secret early hours of dawn when the base and his own brain was still, in need of nothing.

Raph asked him again, but this was one confession Donnie couldn't give up. It was half-formed, bloody, still stuck in the wreck. Donnie couldn't look at it yet.

"Seriously, brother, you should see Mikey—" Donnie began, but the bed creaked like a warning, and Raph was pushing himself up on his elbows.

"I'm worried about Mike, too. But we'll get to him in a bit. You idiots are two sides of the same coin, really. I mean, I haven't seen the kid cry since—"

Donnie dropped his wrench. He stared at it for a moment, then bent to pick it up. When he moved back to his seat Raph's gaze settled on him, kind and all-knowing, with a quiet sort of power that could disassemble any man.

"Sooner or later we gotta talk about this, Dee." Raph touched his head. "'S'not your fault. If Pops was here—"

"Don't," Donnie said. "Please."

Somewhere, Unnamed Baby burst into a fit of giggly baby gibberish; Cassandra needed to hurry it up with a name soon, and it had to be good, or they were all going to have a fifth Renaissance man running around the base. The exoskeleton on Raph's arm exuded no blood-warmth. But it curled around Donnie's wrist like a bolstering force all the same.

Donnie's hands began to shake.

"Donnie," Raph said. "Hey. It's alright now."

Donnie hunched his shoulders in, determined to finish the wiring on the inner elbow. "I'll get better materials soon."

"Don't matter right now—"

"This part right here—the socket hurts when it gets cold, doesn't it? I'll find something more durable before winter rolls in. I'll fix it. I promise."

Raph's flesh arm gripped his shoulder. "I know you will."

Donnie shook his head like Raph didn’t understand. His face felt hot, his own hands numb and not his, like the day he dragged Raph out from under the burning wreck of their lair, around them a bloodshot sky that fishbowled from its own weight. A red blistering eye in the sky, and how he ran. He ran like hell. “And I’m gonna make you the best.”

Raph stared at him. “The coolest fucking arm in the world,” he agreed.

“Damn right," Donnie rasped.

This was a hug; Donnie was sure that what was happening. But the awkward way Raph half-sat up and curled around his slouched shell was still disputable. "But," Raph said, "just for the record? I think this one's awesome, too."

Donnie scrubbed his eyes, feeling miserable. "You haven't even seen the best part," he mumbled, then showed him the secret button where a fourth, extra finger could be triggered.

Raph stared and stared at what had only been a life's dream, until now. Now, the possibilities were opening up. "Shit, Dee. I'll do you proud," Raph promised, lifting his middle finger in the air, and Donnie didn't doubt it. Never could. It was Raph.

:::

Mikey crashed face-first with a muffled screech into a patch of soft, loamy earth, and that was how he knew he was a long way from home. A quiet valley greeted him on the other side of the mystic gateway. Gone were the sparse desert plains, the arid, sun-choked skies. No angry Leo either.

He was lost, but there was that.

And he still had his stash with him.

Victory dance it was. After he grew tired of shaking his shell, he looked around at the landscape properly and nearly collapsed.

"Cabbages?" he cried. The farm was the size of a small swimming pool, with only eight rows of intersecting crops and one house with a thatched roof at the center. Nothing like the mind-blowing stretch of sand at home, or the imposing domes of The Gardens. But it had cabbages. Mikey needed cabbages. These looked a little small, but their puckered faces opened up to him like rosebuds; Mikey knew a miracle when he saw one.

"Excuse me!" he called out. "You have a lovely farm! Would you be able to spare some of your bee-you-ti-ful cabbages? I need it for a dish!"

For my annoying no-fun older brother, Mikey didn't add. He threw the bag down from his shoulder and reached his arm to snag its contents. "I'll trade ya for it? I got the goods!"

A windchime blew. A breeze, barely there, carded through the crops. Mikey could count on two hands the places still untouched by the invasion; the Kraang must have business elsewhere.

"Anyone?" Mikey approached the house. A toy car was on the ground, wheels still spinning. Someone had been here. "Oh, I get it! I'm not with the Kraang, don't worry! Name's Mikey! Just your friendly neighborhood mutant turtle, at your service."

He thought he saw the curtains behind the window rustle. The word on the doorjamb was strange; Mikey swore he recognized that alphabet system somewhere.

"Erm, you've probably heard of us. Or my brother? Leonardo?" Mikey was at the window now. Wild grass crunched beneath his feet. "Bright blue bandana, cool sword, used to be smiley but not really anymore—saved New York? No? Oh, okay. Well, rescuing people's kind of our thing. You could join us! It's not safe out here."

"We can take care of our own." Came the sudden voice, gruff and dark behind the door. The curtains at the window parted. Two small heads poked out, inquisitive eyes studying him. And on their faces: beaks.

Yokai.

Mikey swallowed; there hadn't been a lot to meet, not after the Hidden City invasion. As far as Draxum told him, they had scattered themselves like leaves.

"Please, I insist," Mikey said. "My brothers—we have a safehouse, you'll be protected—"

"Just take what you need and go, kappa," the voice said. We don't consort with humans. We've always taken care of ourselves."

"Well, if you change your mind..." Mikey kicked at a pebble. "I'll come back! I'd draw you a map, but... safety-wise, that's probably not a good idea. So, uh. I'll help myself then?"

Nothing. Silence means yes, Mikey thought, and took his fill. He shook the soil from his hands and called out his thanks before starting down the path; Donnie's trackers would find him eventually, followed by his getaway ride, a speck of purple in the clouds. Donnie always found him.

Twenty steps. Then he paused, considering the sky. He didn't mean to turn back, but the soil there felt acidic and coarse, tell-tale signals that the farm would be barren soon; and if it wasn't from climate change, it would be the Kraang themselves, then what would be left? 

Blowing out a breath, Mikey dropped his hoard by the stranger's doorstep.

"We would've made magic together. I just know it," he whispered regrettably, patting its side like an old friend. Empty-handed, he turned to go.

He could always get more stuff; Donnie had negotiated for him, after all. Before he could get far, a creaky hinge groaned, and the yokai was there, leaning on the door jamb.

"Michelangelo, wasn't it? We know who you are." The stranger towered over him. A tough crocodile snout belied an intelligent voice. "Your brothers, as well. But you... well. They say you're special. Is it true you can summon the sun itself?"

Mikey half-laughed, half-wheezed. "Wh—me?"

The stranger considered him. "They say you're growing to be the greatest warriors the world has ever known. Granted with extraordinary power."

I don't want it, Mikey thought, surprised by the fierceness of it. I never asked for it.

The children were still watching him from the window. "They say you'll save us all," the yokai continued. "A lofty fate. Wouldn't you say, ronin?"

I don't want it, Mikey thought, reaching into the depths of him for a shaky smile. Take it from me. Give me my father back.

He shrugged, then turned down the path, watching the clouds for the telltale signs of his brother. "Just Mikey's fine," he insisted, waving goodbye, and this time did not look back.

#big brother leo is here UH OH #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt movie #rottmnt fic #rise mikey #rise leo #rise donnie #rise raph #rise april #oh fuck i put a lot of characters in this #this chapter was so dialogue heavy it almost killed me #but i had a blast <3 not them tho they're abt to have their corruption arc shhh #bigdamnher0

[lucent-nargacuga]

Celesta Knight

Main tag

Additional info tag

Toyhou.se

Drawing guide

Full title: Dame Celesta Knight of Glitra, Paladin

Other titles: Cobalt Comet, Roaring Comet, Winter Star, Angel of Life, Angel of Death, Glutton of the Skies, Sky-Blue Glow Atop the Mountain

Nicknames: Celesta, Cel, Celester, Gorby

True name: Ciela

Orientation and pronouns: demiromantic asexual lesbian (she/her)

Celesta Knight is a fat pseudopuff who bears silver scales, sky-blue eyes with sharp red pupils, a powerful tail, sharp talons and distinctive organic jet-like wings (which she exhales from, as they are connected to her lungs). Her feet, talons, tail spines and blush markings are black. Celesta Knight is one of the largest members of her species, standing more than twice as tall as the average pseudopuff.

All of Celesta Knight's armour is made from the same dull light grey metal, which is only slightly lighter than the colour of her scales. The visor of her mask is distinctly heart-shaped, and has five spikes at the top, with the central spike being larger than the other four, giving her mask a somewhat birdlike appearance. Her pauldrons are slightly flat and segmented, and her sabatons are fairly standard in design, except for their lack of a heel. Like every other knight from her home galaxy, Celesta Knight wears black gloves.

Celesta Knight's weapon of choice is the glaive and her element is Life. She cannot use any magical abilities with the exception of flight due to the properties of her extremely rare element, and prefers melee combat as a result.

Celesta Knight originates from a faraway galaxy known as Conquest Galaxy, and owns (but does not pilot) a large intergalactic spaceship designed for exploration and speed known as the Astral Wings. She is one of the few surviving heroes (all of whom were awarded the title Paladin) who saved Conquest Galaxy from a terrifying threat known as Haba Maal.

Celesta Knight's best friend is Arcta Knight, one of the aforementioned Paladins and presumed dead. Her second-closest friend is Casey, who (as far as they're both aware) is the only other Paladin who is still alive.

In her home galaxy, Celesta Knight is considered a living legend and even has her own holiday, Winter Star's Day. (This holiday is observed on the 21st of December, the same date as her birthday.) She is widely regarded as the "paragon of valour", although her alleged fearlessness is actually a myth.

Celesta Knight is a kind soul, preferring to make friends instead of enemies. She tries to be as polite as possible (except, of course, when there’s food involved), usually having the mannerisms of the well-trained knight that she is, and she is also quite humorous at times; she’s not afraid to crack a joke or two if it feels right. Her jolliness makes her a terrific friend.

She is far less friendly towards strangers who encounter her when she spends time alone in order to hunt, although it's not uncommon for a nonaggressive encounter to become a friendly one. She tends to be much more wary in these situations, as she often finds herself being hunted by trophy hunters, bounty hunters, poachers, the occasional local authorities, and others.

Celesta Knight isn't afraid to show her vicious and brutal side if an encounter becomes aggressive or dangerous, or if she wants a particularly persistent person to leave her alone. Due to her sheer strength, many aggressors flee when she fights back.

Being raised in the wild, she has animalistic tendencies. This includes a strong instinct to hunt. She's an incredibly skilled hunter, preferring fish over anything else, and dominates the food chain on nearly every planet she visits. She is quite the glutton; her appetite has caused several species of fish to go extinct on occasion.

Celesta Knight has mild, lingering depression. She deals with it well, but she hasn't completely moved on from the loss of her best friend.

Celesta Knight, just like every other pseudopuff in Conquest Galaxy, was raised in the wild. She met Arcta Knight shortly after hatching, and the two became very close friends and depended on each other for survival in the harsh environment of Glitra, the planet they called home for all of their early lives.

When Celesta Knight and Arcta Knight were approaching adolescence, the Conquestian military offered to take them in and train them to become fierce warriors. Both accepted, and after roughly twenty thousand years of training, they were knighted together.

Five thousand years later, a terrifying threat emerged. Haba Maal, an otherworldy dragon, escaped into Conquest Galaxy from a black hole and came close to destroying everything. However, Celesta Knight, Arcta Knight, Casey, Misty and a fifth warrior confronted Haba Maal and after a fierce battle managed to drive it away back into the black hole from whence it came. The five heroes all earned the title of Paladin for this heroic feat. Despite not being the leader of her group, Celesta Knight earned most (if not all) of the credit for saving the galaxy. She was given the largest and most technologically advanced spaceship to use for exploration purposes, known as the Astral Wings.

Only a few days after repelling Haba Maal, Arcta Knight was overtaken by a strange force and attacked and killed Misty and the fifth Paladin, forcing Casey and Celesta Knight to banish him to a faraway land. Celesta Knight did not handle the loss of her best friend very well and had to be hospitalized for eleven years.

She recently took a young pseudopuff named Tintreach in. Tintreach became Celesta Knight's apprentice, but Celesta Knight recognizes that she’s not quite fit for such a responsibility (especially since Tintreach is far more energetic than Celesta Knight is), so Casey and the crew aboard the Astral Wings have agreed to do much of the work of raising Tintreach for her.

Currently, Celesta Knight is retired from the Conquestian military, although she’s still affiliated with it. Thus, she has decided to explore as much of the universe as she can, whether this be via the Astral Wings or independent planet-hopping.

Recently, a particular planet has attracted her attention...

Celesta Knight is based on Valstrax from the Monster Hunter series. Each of Celesta Knight's forms, Azure Glow and Azure Glow Soul, are based on Valstrax's Crimson Glow and Risen Crimson Glow forms respectively.

#kirby #kirby oc #celesta knight #celesta knight lore #lore tag #oc info #everything in italics will eventually be turned into a link

[randomwriteronline]

part of @cantankerouscanuck's Bionicle/LU AU

The flames wavered, but held on.

A fair fight. All he'd asked for was a fair fight. No mask powers. No elemental ones, either. Just enough to create a wall, so that the duel would not cause casualties, but nothing else.

No tricks, no subterfuges.

Just blade against blade.

And a fair fight he'd gotten.

He gritted his teeth as hard as he could and gripped tight onto the handle of his sword as another blow caused his knee to buckle, sinking into the ground. His arm moved to reply with a strike of equal strength, but his movements felt sluggish, uncoordinated, his limbs suddenly heavy and his armor suffocating.

A blow struck his shoulder; before he could even tilt to the side, a second one slammed into his chest.

In a moment he was flying.

His back hit the dirt hard enough to knock the breath out of him.

He had to stand up.

He had to stand up.

The flames wavered again.

He had to stand up.

"Wars!"

He inhaled sharply. His eyes struggled to look around.

"Warriors! Can you hear me? Answer me!"

The voice was coming from within his mind.

"Artemis," he thought weakly.

A wave of relief swept through him, enabling him to fight through his aches and pull himself up: "Thank Mata Nui," he heard his leader almost sob. "I feared that..."

"With all due respect, madam - you have too little faith in me," he joked. He didn't mean to cut her off, but his opponent was approaching, and he could not let her worry seize his legs in such a critical moment.

Luckily, it made her chuckle.

"What's the situation?" he struggled to think. Where would the next swipe come from? His left or his right?

"Everybody is in accounted for. Impa has already ordered the sails unfurled and the anchors are being lifted as I'm contacting you, we're all set for departure." Artemis replied. Her tone was steady, lacking the vulnerability she'd let through just seconds earlier. "Disengage and reach the spot we mentioned. We'll cover our tracks and be there to pick you up in a couple of hours."

Warriors barely managed to block one of the claws reacching out for him, not parrying it but at least keeping his arm: "Save the detour," he hissed in his mind: "I'll be busy with him a little longer."

"Warriors, I said disengage," the Toa of Psionics insisted: "We're safe."

"For how long?" his mind vibrated with the clanging of metal against metal. "An hour? A day? Two?"

"I told you to forfeit! Right now!"

The flames roared in his stead as a sharp pain burst from his joints: "If I let him go now, like this duel never even happened, you'll have one less brother and a Makuta in hot pursuit."

"We'll have them anyways if you don't stomach to swallow your pride and give up! You can't beat him! We both know it! He knows it!"

Her anger and desperation flared through his swing.

His sword howled through the air; its tip carved a deep scratch into his opponent's mask.

"But for every second I defy him, you gain a minute of advantage."

A wave of emotion began climbing up his spine, rushing through him like a landslide in reverse, clawing into his organic tissue and making it burn with energy slowly shaping into thoughts and phonems and screamed words that filled his body with a restless need to strike as though he had never been hit once during the entire fight, as though he were still as fresh and agile and powerful as the second he'd proposed this suicidal duel -

The weightlessness hit him with a sensation of nausea so potent that he had to shut his eyes before he ended up spilling what little innards he might have had right out of his mask.

Then the ground rose up to plunge him in the dust.

His mind went blank.

His chest hurt.

He had to get up.

He had to get up.

The flames sizzled and waned.

He had to get up.

He couldn't move.

He had to get up.

The space between his audio receptors shrieked with monotone static as Antroz approached slowly, carefully - although there was little doubt about his opponent's incapability to continue on fighting.

"A valiant effort," he commended. His weapon gave a quiet hiss as it cradled the Toa's neck in the curve of its blade. "Foolish, of course - as to be expected by one of your fiery, impatient, overconfident ilk. But valiant nonetheless."

Warriors shut his eyes in resignation.

At least, his duty was done.

The Matoran were safe.

His team was safe.

Ravio...

Ravio was safe.

He breathed.

He breathed.

He breathed.

Why was he still breathing?

He did not even feel the final sting.

Daringly, he opened his eyes and looked.

Antroz was gazing away, around the two of them. The flames that had kept their duel contained, hiding them from the rest of the world as they settled their score one on one, had crumbled away into thin pillars of black smoke after the Toa of Fire had accepted there was no point in fighting further: beyond them now the Makuta could see it - the land, the houses, the streets still covered in footprints.

And not a single being in sight.

He allowed the silence to drape around his shoulders and soothe his defeated opponent's injuries for a few spectral moments.

Then he smirked. And chuckled. Louder. Longer.

Still stuck beneath his foot, Warriors watched the Makuta shake his head lightly as a short laugh erupted from deep within his chest with an earnestly, genuinely impressed sound.

The cold metal of his claws retracted from the Toa's neck; Warriors was surprised by the breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"A ploy to hold me off and keep me in the dark about it, too," Antroz drawled: "So you could shepherd your precious Matoran to safety right in front of me as I, none the wiser, expended my energies against an opponent who knew he couldn't have compared to me, but only needed to keep me busy long enough."

He patted Warriors' shoulder.

"Clever," he conceded. "Very, very clever."

The Toa of Fire remained immoble, perfectly still. He wasn't sure he would have been able to even twitch in his current state.

But the pressure on his body was lifted completely, and he was allowed to lay on the floor aching but alive, not unscathed but at the very least freely breathing.

The Makuta spared him one last glance: "For that, I'll let you live."

The next second, he was gone.

How long did it take afterwards for Warriors to start hearing his own thoughts again?

He breathed slowly against the ground for what felt like an eternity.

He needed to get up.

He was so tired.

"Artemis," he called out weakly.

No response.

"Artemis."

No response.

"Artemis."

No response.

"Artemis."

No response.

"Artemis."

No response.

"Artemis."

No response.

"Artemis."

No response.

"Artemis."

No response.

"Artemis."

No response.

"Artemis."

No response.

"Artemis."

No response.

"Artemis."

Relief coated him all at once like a tree falling right on him: "Warriors!"

Despite his injuries, he smiled.

"Where are you? What happened? What about Antroz? Did you--?"

"Now that's too much faith in me, madam," he interrupted her again, wheezing a chuckle. "He left. Found our plan clever. So I'm alive. Battered. But alright. Just tired."

Her near incredulous laugh reverberated through his chest.

Another presence prodded at his mind suddenly, though it didn't feel different from the way Artemis was doing so - as a matter of fact it was essentially identical, meaning she was likely connecting someone else to him willingly.

What followed was a jumbled mess of feelings and wailing thoughts latching tight onto his chest like a desperate hug.

"Hello, Ravio," Warriors laughed.

The poor Ce-Matoran pelted him with more barely coherent sobs.

"Don't worry, I'm alright."

"Of course you are!" the other shrieked, torn between anger, joy and sarcasm: "Nothing can kill you! You just wanted to make my heartlight shortcircuit again! Like I haven't been through enough!"

"Would saying I'm sorry help?"

"Just you wait-!! We're turning this ship around right now, and when we get there I swear to the Great Spirit I'll--!"

"Keep sailing on then, Artemis," Warriors half joked, "I'd rather stave off my friend's wrath for as long as possible, if you wouldn't mind that. I've been beaten down enough already. I think I deserve some rest for now."

"It might be more comfortable in a ship's bunk, don't you think?" the Psionics Toa offered gently.

"And make you all walk right into Antroz again?" he replied.

A quiet moment of discomfort passed through their empty thoughts.

"I'll be fine," he reassured the both of them. "I'll find my way back to you all at my own pace eventually. I always do. You have nothing to worry about."

"We have everything to worry about, brother," Artemis whispered. Her thoughts were like a caress on the side of his head.

"I know, sister. But I'll make it through the pain, and you'll make it through my absence."

She replied with no words: only a silent understanding.

Mata Nui be with you.

The last thought in his mind was a warm, round feeling, curling around his chest like a blanket and settling against his cheek as though nuzzling it.

He hoped Artemis had allowed Ravio to feel his response too.

He breathed in.

His head was heavy.

He'd just need a moment.

Warriors let his eyes close shut, and fell asleep.

#bionicle #linked universe #warriors lu #antroz #artemis lu #ravio #random writing #tloz

[jstawowy]

Colors of personality, 03.2023

A series of 16 spray-painted paintings on a 20 x 20 cm board, each of them contains different artifacts symbolizing a given type of personality according to MBTI theory. Although we rarely think about it and take it for granted as part of the scenery of our lives, colors aren't neutral at all. They have a number of cultural meanings, the symbolism of colors was used in painting to express hidden messages, and most importantly, the colors we surround ourselves with affect our mood. Usually, we don't care why some colors feel peacefull, while others feel annoying. Subconsciously, we lean towards certain of them, not being able to say what lays behind our choices. The same applies to personality – in everyday life, hardly anyone reflects on why people behave in a certain way. We don't care why some of us are more alike than others. We often don't understand why we like some people and others annoy us. We're used to attribute the negative features to those, who seems irritating to us, not understanding that usually our assessment is purely subjective and results from a mismatch in terms of the way we consume energy, collect information about the world, make decisions or organize environment. Knowing how our mind works can help us choose our surroundings more consciously, as well as build understanding and empathy towards the world around us. The work can be presented in its entirety, but also in parts, consisting of several objects.

ENTJ (Te Ni Se Fi) The ultra-minimalist composition composed only of wire symbolizes the strong, combative personality of ENTJ, equipped with strong convictions. The wire used in the artwork is the thickest of the metal elements of the series, impossible to bend with bare hands, just like ENTJs seem to be impossible to bend only with the help of other people's mental or physical strength – sophisticated shapes were given to it with a bender. The lack of breaks in the continuity of the wire, its holistic character indicates the specific character of ENTJs, who usually go through life witha a clearly marked out by themselves path, regardless of other people's assessments. Chaotic bends symbolize difficulties in expressing one's own emotions and, sometimes, also understanding other people's emotions, rationalizing feelings. Due to the fact that yellow is usually well noticeable, it's perfect to draw the attention of anyone nearby (a warning color both in nature and in urban space – warning road signs, reflective vests). It's the color of self-confident, brave people, the color that stimulates the brain and improves memory. On the other hand, it's also identified with mental disorders and madness, as well as jealousy. Yellow color is usually associated positively, but its excess in the environment can cause discomfort in some people.

INTJ (Ni Te Fi Se) The minimalist composition consists of only two diagonal directions - the grid lying at the very bottom indicates one of them, pieces of wire and knife the other. Despite this rather radical simplification, the pieces of wire are not arranged with exaggerated precision, they lie as if they were scattered rather than arranged, which indicates a concentration of this type of personality on principles, not details - despite their highly organized nature (J), INTJs like see the world from a broader perspective, sometimes they deliberately ignore details to follow a larger, fixed path (Ni). The metal mesh is a reference to the organized mental structure of this type of personality, the creation of a systematized network of connections between data collected from the environment (Ni), a passion for arranging things and creating minimalist, but aesthetically coherent compositions (Te). The plastic knife symbolizes the precision of the cut and the sharpness of the thoughts and words of INTJs, who are known for their sarcastic, sharp tongue. In combination with the wire cut into pieces, the knife shows an analytical, willing to cut/break down problems into smaller pieces in order to see the situation from all sides and propose an objective, holistic solution (Ni-Te). The combination of a knife and pieces of wire can also bring to mind the INTJ's often inconspicuous appearance and their stubbornness – could such an inconspicuous tool as a plastic knife be able to cut a metal wire with the right strength and motivation? Black and white have opposite cultural meanings – although both are perceived as elegant, they are also associated with the symbolism of death (in Western culture black is the funeral color, in Eastern culture it is white). Black can be warm or cold depending on the environment in which it is found, just as INTJs, who usually appear cold, distant and dark, become warm and caring to a small group of people who are really important to them.

INFJ (Ni Fe Ti Se) A minimalist artwork, composed of two types of elements (J) – an abrasive sponge and five antique columns, each of a different order (Doric, Corinthian, Ionic, Tuscan, Composite). The columns symbolize respect for history, traditions and human rituals (Fe) – despite their future-oriented (N) and introverted nature (I), INFJs often perform most of the minor everyday rituals established by the culture in which they are brought up, fitting in with the group to which they belong (Fe). Additional value is added by the fact that the columns are handmade, from clay – on the one hand, it is a reference to the INFJ’s respect for human work, on the other hand, it symbolizes the effort they put into the commitments they undertake, regardless of whether they concern their career or relationships with other people. At the same time, the abrasive sponge indicates a secretly hardy and rough character of this type – INFJs are considered generous and kind, but they are not weak and do not bend to every request or coercion; they can be rough when needed. The sponge also symbolizes the logic behind the INFJ’s behavior, their tendency to coolly analyze the facts (Ti), despite making decisions mainly based on feeling (Fe). Gold is synonymous with nobility and wealth, and in the case of INFJ also generosity to others (Fe). It’s also the color of royalty, associated with power and wealth. It can be associated with hedonism (Se). 

ENFJ (Fe Ni Se Ti)

The dynamic composition, composed of metal elements connected with a string into elements that are incomprehensible, but having a certain code, is intended to illustrate the complicated process of ENFJ’s reasoning (Fe Ni). Sharp edges refer to the sharpness of thinking, but also to hidden stubbornness. Circles cut in metal, similarly spaced apart, refer to the need to control the environment and create it according to one’s own will, in a way that would be good for the group (Fe Se). It also indicates precision (Ti). Red is the color of strong emotions, whether love or anger, or hate, which refers to focusing on feelings and making decisions based on them (Fe). It’s also the color of blood, which is intended to symbolize the surprising stubbornness and toughness of the usually perceived as nice and soft ENFJ.

ESFJ (Fe Si Ne Ti)

The presence of a fork symbolizes generosity. A syringe and a bandage for dressings, identified with the health service, mean a willingness to help and a willingness to make sacrifices for others, on the rubber band stuck around it is written “it’s nice to help”. The fineliners refer to the surprisingly frequent artistic abilities of ESFJs, who usually place great value on the aesthetic qualities of things and have good taste. Red is the color of blood, passion and strong emotions, in the case of ESFJ it is a warm, metallic red, which is intended to emphasize the nature of this type ready to sacrifice for others at the expense of yourself. Blood may be a reference to one of the four personality types according to Hippocrates, the sanguine that seems to be most common among cheerful, extroverted ESFJs. Also metallic red is a warm color, opposite to ESTJ’s green.

ISFJ (Si Fe Ti Ne)

The thread appears in two forms: in the center of the composition it’s chaotic and unraveled, in its corner the thread is arranged, rolled into a skein, which refers to the emotional, feeling-focused nature of ISFJ and acting according to what one feels (F/Fe). Paper clips thrown into the threadlike space symbolize clumps of metal that are hard to swallow for those who consider the ISFJ being week – because Fe is a function called by Jung rational (meaning that it not only perceives reality, but also evaluates it, submits it to judgment) usually nice and kind ISFJs can get their way and have very strong, unbreakable beliefs about a given topic, which they aren’t usually associated with. The paper clips arranged in one line in the corner of the composition symbolize order and a tendency to like routine, ease of finding oneself in situations and places that are hierarchical. Light beige is pleasing to the eye. It’s also a great base for other color accents, due to its delicacy and neutrality, it fits most colors.

ISTJ (Si Te Fi Ne) The sparing composition, composed only of a metal plate and a few gloves, indicates a tendency to simplify and catalog information, to create clear divisions that don't take into account intermediate situations (Te). The gloves intertwined in a chaotic pose refer to the distance in interpersonal contacts and difficulties in opening up to other people (Fi), while following the usual etiquette, such as shaking hands or using polite expressions (Si) – the glove separates the hand from the hand of another person, it's also a symbol of elegance and many situations related to history/culture. In the early Middle Ages, gloves became part of the coronation and liturgical attire of kings and bishops, began to be considered a symbol of dignity and power. Throwing the glove is provoking someone to react, fight, compete, polemic – ISTJs who value peace (I) rarely enter into open confrontations, but they are never afraid of them, and when someone offends their internal value system (Fi) they're able to challenge him to a duel, defending their honor (or someone important to them) and knightly dignity. A metal plaque with cut-out symbols of the largest religious systems and atheism indicates the great respect that ISTJs have for tradition, and at the same time the difficulty of breaking away from them and the frequent reluctance to change the existing paradigms (Si). At the same time, copper, as a metal characterized by high plasticity and the only metal that is covered with verdigris (patina) over time, symbolizes that the seemingly unchanging, fierce in its views ISTJ also sometimes changes over time, especially if he sees logical explanations for change and novelty (Te). 

ESTJ (Te Si Ne Fi)

Most of the elements of the composition are well organized, the whole space is filled, the composition seems to be static except for the element extending beyond the edge, which (as well as the crushed, quite chaotic in that organized composition tubes of glue) symbolizes the ESTJ’s tendency to break the rules, if ESTJ believes they are illogical and stupid. Tall, cylindrical elements refer to the multi-level nature of ESTJs, usually paradoxically portrayed as shallow and bossy – lying in fourth place Fi makes ESTJ people with a strong internal moral code and beliefs, who will do anything to fulfill their duties. Also despite a strong Te and leadership tendencies they’re also strongly connected with people whom they respect, their loved ones and willing to sacrifice a lot for them. Deep green is a natural, eye-friendly color that provides peace and a sense of comfort – the gigantic organizational skills of ESTJs provide their loved ones with a sense of security, being well taken care of, they are also salutary in the workspace. When they’re too high, ESTJ can stress people around them, but when they’re optimal, ESTJs bring to the space they find themselves in invigorating and necessary order.

ESTP (Se Ti Fe Ni) The artwork is composed of depicting, realistic elements (S). The jaw cast pieces symbolize the five human senses, thus referring to the highly experience-focused nature of ESTP (Se). The detail of the casts indicates the ability to notice changes in reality that are elusive for other personality types – ESTP will easily notice subtle changes in the expression of the interlocutor's face or a changes in the interior design. Seemingly trivial office clips (because they are sometimes used by students of the art department to hold large sheets of paper to boards, and in their original purpose they are used, among others, to organize office work by fastening segregated documents together) symbolize a high sense of aesthetics which, although not usually associated with ESTP, often accompanies this type of personality. The arranged structure (T/Ti) is disturbed by an abstract metal element resembling a section of a network of connections, some incomprehensible structure (N/Ni). Bright green has an paradoxical meaning – in nature, bright colors serve to deter potential predators, inform about the venomousness of the individual equipped with them, while green itself is perceived as a soothing color, associated with life-giving vegetation. The shade of fluorescent green seems to not exist in nature, to be artificial and unnatural – at the same time it is intriguing and emanates with strength. Despite its apparent unnaturalness, green of this type occurs in nature in the form of, for example, uranium compounds or bioluminescence (which gives ESTP in this approach only additional, interesting meanings).

ISTP (Ti Se Ni Fe)

The minimalist composition symbolizes the sparing nature of ISTPs, for whom actions are usually more important than talking about emotions. The circular arrangement of the chain is interrupted by straight lines of plastic bands, indicating a tendency to break the rules and bravery (or sometimes recklesness). The chain and plastic bands refer to the ease of analyzing and solving problems of a technical and pragmatic nature. The materials they are made of refer to hardness and logic. White is the color of purity in Western culture, but in the East it is also a funeral color, which is intended to symbolize the dualistic nature of the ISTP.

ISFP (Fi Se Ni Te)

Chisels and brushes refer to creative, non-standard solutions that generate ISFP (Ni Te). Their arrangement symbolizes a good aesthetic sense and attention to the appearance of things (Se). A soft tangle of threads thrown chaotically on top deliberately disturbs the arrangement, introducing features that escape control. In this way, he refers to the nature of ISFP focused on one’s own interior and emotions (Fi). Violet stimulates the imagination and creativity. It is also the color of the monarchy, the most difficult to obtain by natural methods, and therefore the most expensive. Light purple is often used in beauty products because of the calmness and sense of harmony it brings.

ESFP (Se Fi Te Ni)

The central arrangement of elements refers to the recognizable character of ESFP that brings a lot of movement to any environment. Chaotically arranged, small, round elements around the dominant suggest a tendency to disorganization (P). Bubble wrap is a symbol of fun and lightheartedness. A metal rod bent into a circle refers to the ability to logically analyze problems and solve them in a concrete way, which, although not identified with ESFP, lie dormant inside them (Te). Unnatural, bright, neon pink symbolizes the large amounts of energy. The choice of a warm color (opposite to ESTP) indicates concentration on emotions and feelings, and making decisions based on them (Fi).

ENFP (Ne Fi Te Si)

The asymmetric, diagonal, border-crossing composition symbolizes originality, originality, sympathy for novelty (N/Ne). Chaotically folded duct tape is a symbol of lack of organization, doing things at the last minute, which sometimes happens to ENFPs (P). At the same time, this element doesn’t dominate the composition, because despite the chaotic nature, ENFPs are conscientious people, who fulfill their duties very well. A large, triangular building composed of wooden elements, the dominant feature, is a reference to generating a large number of abstract ideas (Ne). Pink is an energetic and warm color, which is identified with love, trust and hope (F/Fi).

INFP (Fi Ne Si Te)

The composition, made of glass and partly demolished, indicates the quiet, but at the same time full of storms and storms nature of the INFP (I). The glass is delicate, it is easy to break, which symbolizes sensitivity to the world and other people (F/Fi). At the same time, broken pieces can be used to build something beautiful, which in turn refers to creativity and the ease of generating abstract ideas (N/Ne). Broken glass forms sharp edges that are sometimes easy to cut, as does the internally concrete, logical, result-oriented mind of the INFP (Y/Th). Blue is the color of peace and sadness. It is soothing and natural, pleasant to the eye (blue sea, ocean, sky), and staying in it reduces stress.

INTP (Ti Ne Si Fe)

Structures built of seemingly disorganized, triangular shapes symbolize sympathy and ease of understanding abstract concepts and theories. The test tube in the center of the composition is a symbol of an analytical, logical approach to solving problems (Ti), as is the silver color, which is associated with metal and also with coolness. The silver foil appeals to the intrinsically soft, secretly sensitive nature of the INTP.

ENTP (Ne Ti Fe Si)

Geometric figures indicate the nature that likes and easily understands abstraction (N). The chaotic composition is intended to emphasise the dispersal and the ability to multitask (Ne), but the beginnings of a building can be found in it, which alludes to the ease of starting projects and combining seemingly unconnectable elements into structures (Ti). Metal caps symbolize a logical, mentally focused personality, not willing to talk about emotions unless it is their analysis (Ne Ti). Gray is a neutral color, it symbolizes the need for balance and calm without manifesting feelings outside. It’s sometimes the color of hidden emotions, improves communication and means opening to substantive, emotionless discussion.

#jstawowy #joanna stawowy #object #entj #intj #istj #estp #intp #infj #mbti #psychology #psychologia #art #sztuka #painting #malarstwo #personality #osobowość #myers briggs #colors #kolory #colours

[bigyikes97]

Abyss of Neptune: Seems like a straightforward Cthulu-style horror, BUT...

(Screenshot: Abyss of Neptune)

SPOILERS!!

The 'god' was created by scientists who fabricated a cult to "play God". The cult allowed them to facilitate their own wild experiments without having to answer to morality. Their deity may just as well have been curiosity, the cursory nod they needed to disregard the sacredness of humanity for some very awful experiments. I'm usually super not about cults in games, but I think this one was done very well--a cult whose supernatural element was made by its members, I thought, was some solid food for thought.

Now, there WAS an icky, evil monster! Most definitely! Jumpscares galore and moody, murky, creepy-as-heck design. Now it's not very difficult to scare me, but I did surprise myself by screaming at one of the jumps. So don't let the lack of universe-breaking stuff stop you from playing; it's definitely worth it! Instead, there is a lesser god...but one cobbled together by entirely human means, from wretched experiments called "rituals" that, I thought, put science and spirituality poignantly on the same plane. That 'god' is a sorry mess that efficiently terrifies as a 'lab monster', but ultimately underwhelms when the cosmic scale of what it was supposed to be was revealed. I thought distinctly, "THAT was the 'god' this whole time?!" I think that's a lovely thematic point: A failed, gross, nasty monster that overpromises and underdelivers, in a failed, gross, nasty lab whose former splendor is now only pitied and reviled.

Like the visions of cosmic grandeur that drove these scientists to commit atrocities, the monster overpromises and underdelivers in terms of universe-shaking godhood, in a temple/lab whose former splendor is now only pitied and reviled. The result was as deceptive to its creators as the profane ideas that spawned it. It's dangerous, scary, and evil--like the people who made it--but it's to be pitied, not worshipped. I definitely think that's the point and a well done one at that. Grandiose ideas that require divesting oneself of humanity will always have that same end: far from attaining godhood, a transformation into a beast that only knows how to devour. They will always fall short of what they promise and end in disappointment, unmet expectations, and death.

The scientists are fanatical cultists in a faith of their own creation, and it's a wonderfully on-the-nose warning in an era of technologies that can push the limits of ethics further than ever before: gene edited babies, cloning, 'living modular beings', robot zombie spiders (ok that one's not a moral thing but I think it's a pretty stupid one! Like, have they never seen a movie?). Some of the most academically advanced people I know are the most spiritual. I know a successful astrophysicist who believes whole-heartedly in astrology (not astronomy), rightly deducing that the same way the physical world follows rules and organizations, the unseen components of our existence must do so as well. And the way in which these spiritual aspects are processed by powerful, intelligent people can be the difference between benefit and atrocity. Speaking of which...

CONTENT WARNING: children are harmed. It's discovered that the scientists spliced and mutated children into the evil ocean creatures and the cobbled 'god' that we meet. And usually I nope hard out of stuff when that comes up. But in this case? I think it's a poignant talking point that must be addressed, because it can and does happen. The innocent, voiceless, powerless ones are the first victims of powerful adults who have 'greater missions'. The fact that there was no god in the first place is what makes it so impactful. The scientists created the god they wanted to see from the bodies of innocent victims. I think that is a thought that deserves to be lingered with, and a sharp social commentary about what happens when powerful people with voices label powerless voiceless people as subhuman disposable commodities.

#abyss of neptune #horror game #cthulu #horror #science fiction #morality #CW: death #cw: abuse #cw: child death #cosmic horror #lovecraft #underwater horror #thalassophobia

[nvrcmplt]

“Crystal “ Diamond Dragons

locien dragon species —

Crystal Dragons are four legged reptiles with two large wings that aid with flight and domination in the sky. A normal drake’s leathery skin is replaced with a form of crystallised scales shaded in the dominant hue of Amethyst, Rose or Brown Crystals; making his body the hardest of substances to penetrate by normal weaponry means - have an extreme resistance to heat and the elements and one of the most strongest breaking points to the point it seems impossible to harm his hide at all.

However due to the sheer size of his being and the heavy element of the scales Locien is slow in flight compared to his much smaller counterparts, since the sheer weight of them immobilises many sharp and swift movements of the wings. Yet to make up for the lack of flight speed, they counter-balance with their sheer strength and defence making them one of the most toughest Drakes when fighting. 

This is also noticeable whenever fighting, Locien will become a moving fortress of violence. Having not needing his wings to escape or fly away to avoid things, they are instead used as weapons much the same. Be it slicing the very Earth in half with the clawed tips or crunching hills with the folded joint, or merely causing storms with a powerful flap.

Their jowls are heavy; large and powerful when biting. Their teeth are aligned in near perfect rows of two sets with no uneven or larger duos. His maw shows the intent of biting and tearing through their meals with ease, due to the sheer size of his maw Locien needs not tug or yank meals. Just bite in a full even way and he’ll be granted a mouthful of food.

Tongue is split at the end like a snake but it’s seen to not be used for scenting as his sense of smell needs not the Jacob's organ. Studies have shown that the split tongue is used for easier access to clean out his flame bladders / tubing within his jowls after eating. Thus when grooming or drinking he does not mix the nature fluids of his fire breathing lungs with the meat he consumes.

It has also been seen used to coil large meals to drag them down their throats and to keep them from harming their innards upon swallowing Prey whole.

In Dragon Study Books of this species saved by Elven folk; that it’s said that during the time of Dragon Rule; Diamond Drakes were falling in number due to Nest Hunting. The Crystal Dragons understood over the years that the Land of Man was too dangerous to lay their eggs; and turned to the mountains. Burrowing deep by digging into mountains walls and high points that snow covered to now fill their nests in the woven tunnels of mountain beds. Though the cold was a huge risk to their offspring; it was thanks to their evolution that their Flame Bladders became larger; using them for the need to keep their eggs warm and much safer from human hands.

Though it didn’t completely keep humans out during the End of Dragonic Reign; it wasn’t all that long for them to fall from their own tactics.

Being so heavy; it took a toll upon Drake Mothers to constantly climb mountains - even with their sizes and in turn; many abandoned their nests for their own safety. Humans of course took the eggs and killed what they could - though it took time to find them and reach them; technology was getting a lot more advanced making the killing a lot easier and accurate in wiping out the majority of Diamond Drakes.

It is said during this time, evolution took a hand in the Crystal Drakes, to convert a part of their flame bladders to a Gaia blessed crystal bladder. Meaning exactly what it sounds like, a breath that forms crystals as hard if not harder than their own armour for protection of their hatchlings and nests.

It is more common to think that Crystal Dragon’s are more of ‘Gliders’ than ‘Flyers’ in the skies. With their sheer size; muscle mass, fat mass and Earth’s gravity works heavily against them - they tend to climb to the highest point and glide there way across the world; though with such strength in their bodies already - flight is possible. Just not for a long period of time like most dragons can. Gravity also works in their favour to become destructive in landing when they are in the need to literally clear a space of enemies and or other predators that try their hand in taking down their young.

Crystal Dragon Combat —

Their main fighting pattern is with their brute defence and devastating strength.

Tails are used often to sweep away enemy and terrain.

The Dragon Clan of Crystals were feared for their sheer destructive abilities and not so much their attitudes.

Thus the confusion whenever Crystal Dragons are bought up in the room, they were the one Dragonic Clan that are harmless. Pacifists in a sense; that they did not seek out battle against other Drakes and will most often run from conflict for their children and own sake of staying unharmed. The Drakes were creatures that only want to form families, fly and continue to walk the Earth as they so choose. 

They are creatures of a near ultimate defence; it is terrifyingly hard to kill a Crystal Dragon Adult; thus the reason humans took them on when they were hatchlings.

Their fire lungs are powerful; able to to reach 30 meters of his expelled placement; making it a terrifying first defence. When it was discovered they are now able to use magic in their bladders and formed Crystal Bladders, the hunting over them were given up and a wide birth by the most smart of humans. A few do try to seek them out but due to the lack of following their nesting grounds and growth - they have eased back into the wilderness with talents to hide well amongst it all.

Claws are curved inward; and toes are close together which is a big help to their digging needs; though painful to others that become victim to them. Which these claws being more blunt due to digging stone and hard earth; they tend to gorge; rather than slice flesh cleanly. Removing chunks of their enemy and leaving them with gaping wounds compared to split skin that could heal when it scabs over.

Wings are like shields against everything; though more membrane like on the inner side; it is still taut scales; flattened to be more efficient with being hugged close to the body when crawling through tunnelled nests; they have one large claw upon the wing joints, which is very sharp and used to blind and or tear through other drake wings; if the time calls for it.

Locien’s Trivia —

Locien is around; 40m ( 131 ft ); from floor to crown. ( Not including horns ); and just as long if not more, including his tail.

Locien is of a rare species of Dragon that are seen to be easy targets for humans to harvest their scales and skin when Hatchlings - due to them being Earth bound and too heavy to run from predators. 

That being said; when a Hatchling that has mastered the ability to trot in a clean line and open its wings; will have little to no vulnerability due to the solidifying of its Diamond skin; making them a near impossible to kill with bullet or knife. Locien is no longer of a Hatchling age and now is in fact a full grown adult.

Locien can speak, read and write in Dragonic and Elvish languages due to being born of both species.

He has a mix of Dragon and Elf Magic; and being too lazy to explain that he was given the markings of an High elven Queen for the ability to ‘turn elfish’ to mingle in with the world around him; he claims himself to be a ‘Dragon-Shifter’ or ‘Chosen-Dragon Elf’.

Locien in his human form has the ability to use; Dragonic scales on his Arms, legs and body like an armour set. His wings, tail and horns are too worn with pride in this form when fighting. His fire and crystal lungs can too be used for battle. 

The diamond scales connect from his nape and curled around the sides of his neck; up jaw and to temples. Horns are extended from behind ears, and on brow. It continues down to his shoulders to cover his arms in purple scales before they protrude his diamond scales in a series of sharp and blunt spikes, the same occurs down his spine but smaller spikes that connects to his tail which ends in a cluster of sharp diamond spikes. Small areas dot in scale growth; like his chest; stomach and over thighs to give him more defence against weaponry and strengthen him all over.

Lastly, Locien’s size makes he hard for him to fly constantly; and like his predecessors - is more of an grounded dragon. With his wings being powerful and large; it isn’t uncommon to see such a beast prefer running into a battle than flying over it and attacking below.

#« ( Locien ) » HC. #my baby booiiii

[infoblogifyzen]

The Ultimate Guide to Choosing Cocktail Tables for Your Next Event

When it comes to hosting memorable events, every detail counts. From the grandeur of the venue to the subtlety of lighting, the ambience you create is crucial. Among the many design elements, cocktail tables stand out as versatile yet often underestimated pieces in event planning and interior design. Whether you’re organizing a high-profile corporate gala or revamping your home for an intimate gathering, the right choice of cocktail tables can set the perfect tone for your event. Here’s your ultimate guide to selecting the ideal cocktail tables that will complement any occasion.

Understanding the Different Types of Cocktail Tables

Cocktail tables come in various shapes and styles, each offering a unique aesthetic and functionality. Understanding the differences between these tables is crucial to match the right one with your event's needs.

Round Cocktail Tables

Round cocktail tables for events are a classic choice for their ability to facilitate conversation and create an inclusive social setting. Perfect for social gatherings, they encourage people to gather round, and their lack of sharp corners makes them a safe and practical option, especially in crowded spaces.

Square Cocktail Tables

Square cocktail tables project a more formal, structured environment that's ideal for professional settings or modern design concepts. With a more defined personal space, they can be placed in a way that suggests a break from the communal, encouraging more focused interactions in business events.

Specialty Designs

These unique tables come in various innovative designs, often tailored to specific themes or event goals. From LED-lit tables that add a futuristic touch to rustic, barrel-inspired pieces for a countryside feel, specialty cocktail tables can help you make a bold design statement.

Factors to Consider When Choosing Cocktail Tables

Selecting the right cocktail tables for your event isn’t just about personal preference; it’s about creating a cohesive and practical environment that resonates with your guests.

Venue Compatibility

The first consideration should always be the venue. Large spaces call for substantial or numerous cocktail tables to fill the area adequately, while smaller areas might accommodate only a few sleek, space-saving options.

Theme Alignment

Your tables must align with the event theme, whether subdued and elegant or loud and vibrant. If you’re hosting a whimsical garden party, ornate, vintage-inspired tables could underline the enchanting theme, while a minimalist product launch might demand sleek, unadorned tables to support a modern aesthetic.

Practicality and Comfort

While aesthetics are important, the comfort and usability of the tables cannot be overlooked. Ones that are too tall, short, wide, or narrow might not serve your guests conveniently. Tables that are easy to clean and transport should also weigh in on your decision, especially for event planners managing a range of locations and themes.

Highlighting Lenox Hill Florist's Range of Cocktail Tables

A renowned name in the interior design and event planning sector, Lenox Hill Florist offers an exquisite range of cocktail tables designed to be both stylish and robust.

Quality Craftsmanship

Each table is crafted with precision, using high-quality materials that promise longevity and sturdiness, ensuring they become a trusty companion for your event.

Durability in Design

Lenox Hill Florist’s cocktail tables are not only beautiful but also durable. They’re designed to withstand the rigors of various events, making them an investment that pays off event after event.

Aesthetic Appeal

From classic to contemporary, Lenox Hill Florist designs cocktail tables that cater to diverse interior preferences, ensuring that there's always a table that will harmonize beautifully in your event setting.

Real-World Examples Utilizing Lenox Hill Florist's Cocktail Tables

Event planners and interior designers have long banked on Lenox Hill Florist’s tables to elevate the ambiance of their events. Real-world examples demonstrate the flexibility and impact these pieces have in multiple settings.

Tips for Enhancing Cocktail Table Arrangements

Even the best cocktail table might not shine to its full potential without thoughtful decoration and placement. Here are some tips to bring your tables to life:

Floral Decor

Adorning your cocktail tables with the right floral arrangements can add a touch of elegance and freshness to the event. Consider the height, color, and style of the flowers to harmonize with your table design and event theme.

Lighting

The correct lighting can transform the look of your cocktail tables dramatically. LED lights for an evening affair or natural light for a daylight event can highlight your tables and the decor on them effectively.

Accessories

Candles, table runners, and thematic accessories can complete the look of your cocktail tables. They add layers to your design and can act as conversation starters.

The humble cocktail table often proves to be the unsung hero of many memorable events. Through an informed selection of these essential pieces, you can vastly improve the guest experience and create a lasting impression.

Selecting the perfect cocktail table is an art, as it must balance function with aesthetics, theme with comfort, and ambiance with practicality. It's no wonder why event planners and interior designers take the process so seriously. With the guidance in this ultimate guide, you're now better equipped to make the right decision for your next social or professional event.

Transform your event space with Lenox Hill Florist's cocktail tables, where quality, durability, and aesthetic appeal come together seamlessly. With a wide range of options ready to be a canvas for your creativity, hosting the perfect event just got a lot more accessible.

For more insights and inspiration on event design and decor, check out the vibrant catalog of offerings at Lenox Hill Florist. Whether you're planning a grand ballroom gala or an intimate soiree at home, Lenox Hill Florist is your partner in creating events that enchant and memories that last.

#cocktail tables for events

[ubaid214]

To Feed or To not Feed: The Organic Salmon Question for Dog Owners

Salmon is without question a delicious and nutritious fish, but in regards to discussing it with your fuzzy friends, the problem arises: can pets consume salmon fresh? The question over whether natural salmon is a safe and balanced selection for dogs is just a topic of debate among dog homeowners and experts. In this information, we'll explore the benefits, dangers, and factors of serving fresh salmon to your canine companion. Can dogs eat chicken

The Nutritional Value of Salmon

Salmon is well-known for the rich nutritional content. It's full of important nutritional elements, including top quality protein, omega-3 fatty acids, supplement D, and numerous minerals. These vitamins offer a selection of health benefits for equally individuals and dogs. Omega-3 fatty acids, in particular, may contribute to a shinier coat, healthy epidermis, and improved mutual health in dogs.

The Benefits of Fresh Salmon

Serving your puppy natural salmon may possess some possible advantages, including:

Improved Coat and Skin: The omega-3 fatty acids in salmon can boost your dog's coat and skin health, making it shinier and less susceptible to dryness and itching.

Improved Immune Program: The vitamins in natural salmon may possibly support your dog's immune protection system, supporting them ward off illnesses more effectively.

Enhanced Mutual Wellness: Omega-3s in salmon may lower infection, probably relieving joint pain and promoting greater mobility in dogs, particularly in older animals or those with arthritis.

The Dangers of Organic Salmon

Despite the possible benefits, eating your puppy organic salmon provides specific dangers:

Organisms and Germs: Fresh fish may contain hazardous organisms like flukes and microorganisms such as Salmonella or E. coli. These may result in gastrointestinal problems, such as for example nausea and diarrhea, or more significant illnesses.

Thiamine Lack: Fresh salmon includes a chemical that could ruin thiamine, an essential B-vitamin for dogs. A thiamine deficit may lead to neurological problems.

Bone Hazards: Salmon could have small, sharp bones that can present a choking hazard or result in injuries in your dog's intestinal tract.

Mercury Problems: Exactly like in people, the mercury material in fish could be a issue for dogs, especially if they eat up salmon regularly. Mercury accumulation can cause toxicity over time.

Allergies: Some dogs might be allergic to fish, which could end up in epidermis problems, itching, or digestive problems.

Realization

So, may pets consume salmon raw? The solution is not just a easy yes or no. While you can find possible advantages to feeding your puppy organic salmon, additionally, there are significant risks involved. If you determine to include fresh salmon in your dog's diet, consult your veterinarian for guidance and contemplate these measures:

[genre-grab-bag]

Hi-Fi Preamble pt. 2

See, when war eats up your resources, and things are a bit scarce and precious to begin with, you start worrying about what you have. It's probably kind of late at that point, but better than never, isn't it?

So recycling technology gets a jump. Particle forges that smash things apart for composite elements, be it corpses or broken weapons. Vehicles or mass graves. The grinder works endlessly to churn out a pile of new bullets and pellets out of every corpse, until the only things left are useless bits of trace elements too small to capture.

The resource shortage gets so bad that cloning becomes...a curiosity, something interesting, something useful. And not just organs, masses of muscle and fat. Gene-scaffolds become a new research topic, until it gets to the point that someone grows a weapon. It was simple, really, just some sinew, teeth, muscle, nerve endings. It gets attached to the wrist and wrapped around the arm, and suddenly a swung arm has a ten foot reach full of razor sharp barbs. Suddenly, the forearm has a mass of bone-spurs it can drop like caltrops or launch like shrapnel.

Suddenly, a bullet shield walks on its own, squealing like something that could once have been a pig, wounds scabbing over faster than they can bleed out.

War becomes the horror-show it always was.

Dark days, horror days, the kind of days you just don't forget if you see what's happening. The kind of things that make people want nothing more than for them to end...and if territory and space are the problem, lack of resources the impetus for conflict, why not resolve that lack?

We're not sure who started the research nowadays. A lot of information got lost in the times between then and now, but what he created changed the world...and for the better, by most opinions.

Cyberspace.

The word doesn't evoke...quite enough, in most cases. You think cyberspace, you think forums, chatrooms, websites, social media, video games. What this guy made was something else entirely.

#scifi #fantasy #original work #High Fantasy Sci Fi #Hi-Fi

[laadsdubai]

Top Interior Design Trends That Will Shape Your Spaces in 2023

The newest interior design trends for 2023 focus a heavy emphasis on long-lasting materials, sustainability, and design elements with a long lifespan. Nature, which encompasses natural colors, natural materials, natural shapes, and natural textures, is the upcoming major trend in interior design. While most trends emphasize serene settings, luxurious materials, and eye-catching hues. The interior design trends of 2023, however, will not lack vibrant colors, unique design features, or sumptuous materials.

Both designers and consumers worldwide are welcoming the newest trends in interior design. Consult the leading Interior Designers in Dubai, UAE to get the best virtual look, feel, and walkthrough of the space before any changes to your space have started if you want to get the most realistic understanding of how your space will look after incorporating these most recent trends and designs.

Top Trends to Consider,

Businesses, designers, and consumers are all collaborating to develop and use ecologically friendly products as the relevance of sustainable interior design increases. More than just a trend, sustainability in the interiors sector announces the start of a crucial new era of attentive design, from investment pieces made to last to products made from recyclable and renewable materials.

Some examples of fashionable wall designs are vertical gardens, wall rugs, modern art, neon lighting installations. The 2023 interior design trend offers a constrained period of innovation. There is a stylish wall in every room. The time has come to include this fad into your home design project to add individuality and differentiate it.

Whether it is immediately through roof terraces, balconies, and impeccably maintained gardens, or more discreetly throughout the region, clients are demanding a better connection to the outside. This can be done by using colors, textures, and shapes that have an organic appearance and are said to evoke a sense of calm.

Sharp angles have been progressively vanishing from surfaces and architectural details in interior design elements for a while now, starting with upholstery. Curved shapes and smooth, rounded edges can give a space a more welcoming, peaceful, and comfortable appearance and feel. Currently, organic curves and flowing forms are in vogue.

More people are purchasing design services, virtual furnishings, and home accents to adorn their virtual properties, or so-called metaverse architecture, as more people join the metaverse and become eligible to own property. Because it permits the development of both physical items and real estate, this interior design trend 2023 is especially fascinating to architects and interior designers.

A skilled interior designer can create or redesign your entire space, incorporating the newest ideas and trends, depending on your requirements and your budget. Contact us to learn more.

[informationalblogs]

Top Interior Design Trends That Will Shape Your Spaces in 2023

The newest interior design trends for 2023 focus a heavy emphasis on long-lasting materials, sustainability, and design elements with a long lifespan. Nature, which encompasses natural colors, natural materials, natural shapes, and natural textures, is the upcoming major trend in interior design. While most trends emphasize serene settings, luxurious materials, and eye-catching hues. The interior design trends of 2023, however, will not lack vibrant colors, unique design features, or sumptuous materials.

Both designers and consumers worldwide are welcoming the newest trends in interior design. Consult the leading Interior Designers in Dubai, UAE to get the best virtual look, feel, and walkthrough of the space before any changes to your space have started if you want to get the most realistic understanding of how your space will look after incorporating these most recent trends and designs.

Top Trends to Consider,

Businesses, designers, and consumers are all collaborating to develop and use ecologically friendly products as the relevance of sustainable interior design increases. More than just a trend, sustainability in the interiors sector announces the start of a crucial new era of attentive design, from investment pieces made to last to products made from recyclable and renewable materials.

Some examples of fashionable wall designs are vertical gardens, wall rugs, modern art, neon lighting installations. The 2023 interior design trend offers a constrained period of innovation. There is a stylish wall in every room. The time has come to include this fad into your home design project to add individuality and differentiate it.

Whether it is immediately through roof terraces, balconies, and impeccably maintained gardens, or more discreetly throughout the region, clients are demanding a better connection to the outside. This can be done by using colors, textures, and shapes that have an organic appearance and are said to evoke a sense of calm.

Sharp angles have been progressively vanishing from surfaces and architectural details in interior design elements for a while now, starting with upholstery. Curved shapes and smooth, rounded edges can give a space a more welcoming, peaceful, and comfortable appearance and feel. Currently, organic curves and flowing forms are in vogue.

More people are purchasing design services, virtual furnishings, and home accents to adorn their virtual properties, or so-called metaverse architecture, as more people join the metaverse and become eligible to own property. Because it permits the development of both physical items and real estate, this interior design trend 2023 is especially fascinating to architects and interior designers.

A skilled interior designer can create or redesign your entire space, incorporating the newest ideas and trends, depending on your requirements and your budget. Contact us to learn more.

[miscellaneousmisfortunes]

Personal Reading 09/05/22

Inquiry/Subject: Writing success

The Hierophant

Keywords: organization, hierarchy, community, study, corporation, rituals, religious affiliations, conventionality, traditions, conformity, morality and ethics

Labyrinthos Interpretation:

“Following the bounds of tradition. What is tried and true is valued, and it is not the time to stray from the path. This card can also represent the pursuit of knowledge, or a spiritual guide.”

Otherkin Interpretation:

“This card often urges the querent to pursue a course of formal study, seek membership in an organization or participate more in a structured work environment... This card can also represent a person who follows rules or is most comfortable within a highly structured environment... The Hierophant stands for intellect, worldly knowledge, and formal structures. In a work, professional, or financial reading, the Hierophant usually indicates a deeper involvement with an institution or company.”

My initial reaction to this is that I’m being told that I need to find a balance and a structure for full time work for enrollmentFUEL, writing for myself, and working on actuating a marketing plan for either Abaddon or Ignite. Probably Ignite since that’s the lead I have to send to an actual person.

Temperance Reversed

Keywords: lack of balance, excess, extremes

Labyrinthos Interpretation:

“Too much of anything can lead to ruin. Your focus is sharp and unwavering, but what are you leaving forgotten? Something has been forgotten in your quest for excellence.”

Otherkin Interpretation:

“Temperance reversed is a warning: something in your life is out of balance, and it will have consequences on your happiness, health, or long-term success. There may be a specific conflict or excess that is creating stress and tension in your life. There is an indication that elements outside of your control are affecting your ability to maintain balance and stability.”

I guess since I now have full time employment for the first time in just over a year, it could be a warning to make sure that I don’t let work suck the life out of me so that I stop writing again, or stop working on the special edition of Ignite, or stop putting together a marketing plan for Abaddon. Which makes sense because I didn’t write for MONTHS when I was working at Tusculum. Lately, I’ve gotten used to cranking out 2 pieces a week. I can’t lose the solace that brings me.

King of Cups

Keywords: authority, fairness, clear vision, maturity, intelligence, leadership, compassion, control, balance

Labyrinthos Interpretation:

“A man whose greatest quality is his ability to control, balance, and master his emotions. He is not empty of feelings, but rather full of them--only, he understands when and where they are appropriate and beneficial, and when they are harmful. He is a man of compassion, diplomacy, and generosity.”

Otherkin Interpretation:

“This card can indicate an ally or an older authority figure who may be able to help you with a financial or work-related situation.”

I took this line because it was the most applicable, as the rest was referring to authority that I would possess. Which could be interpreted about managing my own schedule for these things I need to balance. But, I thought of Laralee. How she is a very strong figure of guidance in my life. This might indicate that she either has suggestions of how to balance this stuff. She also has the authority to help me with the balance from FUEL.

So, I think it’s safe to say that the answer to my inquiry is strongly centered around having a BALANCE in my approach. Between full time work, self care, and writing goals, it will require structure. And I think I will need to rubric something to adhere to to make it work.