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willtarica · 3 months

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Discussion Leader Panel Presentations

Pink Floyd: Nothing but the Machine

Young students run around causing a ruckus, complaining about their evil teacher who traps them with the masses. Being a hundred times the size of the students who are ants in comparison, the teacher has an easy time putting the kids into the roof of a standard British home that appears to be a funnel and are turned into spaghetti as he watches through his glasses where one lens enlarges into a magnifying glass. The students' lack of individuality reigns supreme in Pink Floyd’s, “Another Brick in the Wall, Part Two,” they are just another noodle. In “The Ruling Class and The Ruling Ideas,” Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels make the point that the ruling class, the teachers, control the means of material and mental labor, which is divided for one half to appear as thinkers while the other stays passive and grounded in reality. This allows for one class to rule all just like a teacher runs a classroom in 1970s England (Pg. 59-60). Marx and Engels discuss how ideas are not independent of politics, just as music and art are intertwined with politics. Pink Floyd were one of the most influential bands to criticize the education system and how teachers back then put kids in a box as seen in the imagery of a white brick wall encasing a student sitting on the dirt ground. In “Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses,” Louis Althusser writes:

“School (but also other State institutions like the Church, or other apparatuses like the Army) teaches ‘knowhow’, but in forms which ensure subjection to the ruling ideology or the mastery of its ‘practice’. ‘professionals of ideology’ (Marx), – the tasks of the exploited (the proletarians), of the exploiters (the capitalists), of the exploiters’ auxiliaries (the managers), or of the high priests of the ruling ideology (its ‘functionaries’), etc” (Pg.88).

Pink Floyd paints a picture of the ruling class quite literally trapping a child inside a brick wall by the high priest Althusser speaks of, the teacher. Keeping the youth trapped without hope of living their dreams only will force them into the wall of never contradicting their superiors and never accomplishing anything. Instead, the children will end up in the workforce where they will be miserable.

The sad reality is presented in the shot of silver hammers with red and black handles marching like the military in a dark and cloudy night. Each hammer represents a different child who the high priests trapped into our established system, even if that means the children are unhappy because they grew up to work meaningless jobs. Pink Floyd, Marx, Engels and Althusser all agree that the system's hierarchy is oppressive as the ruling class subjects everyone else into a working majority that builds the infrastructure that keeps the upper class afloat and in power. It's a cycle where the high priests manipulate the children to be the same as everyone else so they stay and grow up to work the same jobs as their parents just like their own kids will.

Thom Yorke and the Aura of Surrealism

vimeo

Thom Yorke from Radiohead and The Smile made a solo album titled “Anima” and a short film with Paul Thomas Anderson of the same title to go along with it. The film features the songs, “Not the News,” “Traffic” and “Dawn Chorus.” In Walter Benjamin's essay, "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction," he discussed mechanical reproduction and how it depleted the uniqueness of works of art, writing “even the most perfect reproduction of a work of art is lacking in one element: its presence in time and space, its unique existence at the place where it happens to be” (Pg. 667). Thom Yorke is one of the few modern musicians who proves Benjamin's critique of artistic authenticity wrong. “Anima” exists outside of time and space. Benjamin’s comments on retakes in film and music is that it depletes the aura of the piece. Maybe multiple takes does make a work of art less organic, but Paul Thomas Anderson’s direction appears natural in its own right as the film begins with a location all too familiar for many people, the train.

To perfect something, or rather to record something numerous times can only benefit the artwork at hand, but that's just my opinion. Benjamin does speak on the meaning of aura relating to authenticity and Yorke and Anderson show the inside of a subway where everyone is wearing the same coat and flips it over with a choreographed dance sequence of each person moving their body in a bizarre lifeless way. Yorke and Anderson make their point that authenticity and surrealism can go hand and hand.

After the dance sequence, Thom Yorke picks up a woman's briefcase and proceeds to exit the train to give it back to her. Instead, he loses her and wanders around in a dream-like dystopian world. He is searching for answers but nothing is received. There's a point where he tries to exit the station but the turnstile won't move. The same people in identical trench coats continue to walk through the turnstile right next to him, but his still won't budge. The audience is left to ponder the question of what it meant. This is exactly what I want out of art, displaying an ambiguous critique of society. Art becomes repetitive when the answers are given to the viewer instead of the filmmakers forcing the audience to think critically about the film and its meaning. Thom Yorke and Paul Thomas Anderson let the viewer experience a dream-like state so they can apply it to an everyday event such as taking the train to work. Yorke and Anderson are breaking the laws of time and space in the film with surreal imaginary and bizarre and striking choreography. “Anima” created its own aura that is not aligned with the idea that a piece needs to be viewed in a specific way or the authenticity will be lost. The authenticity of “Anima” is its unique and uncanny perspective on reality. Maybe Walter Benjamin wouldn’t mind retakes if films were as inventive as “Anima.”

Critical Thinking Questions

According to Marx and Engels, ideas are not independent from politics. Do you think art and politics should be grouped together or can the two be separate?

Is Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall, Part Two” overly cynical towards capitalism that's perpetuated by what Althusser describes as “high priests,” or is it justified?

Do you agree with Walter Benjamin's opinion that retakes deplete the aura of films?

Marx, Karl. Marx and Engels Collected Works Volume 5: Marx and Engels 1845-47. Lawrence & Wishart Limited, 1976.

Sharma, Aradhana, and Akhil Gupta. The anthropology of the state: A reader. Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishing, 2006.

Braudy, Leo, and Marshall Cohen. Film theory and criticism: Introductory readings. New York: Oxford University Press, 2009.

#oxyvisualanalysis #discussionleader #@theuncannyprofessoro #Vimeo

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lordofthestrix · 2 years

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Tristan de Martel and the unavoidable death of all things.

For someone who not only is an immortal but has been one almost since the supernatural occurrence of vampirism transformed into its own growing species, Tristan remains very combative in matters of athanasia and oblivion.

On his view concerning how he sees the regular world working:

“I've always despised churches, but cemeteries I love. Churches celebrate fairy tales, guardian angels, patron saints. But cemeteries hold concrete proof that not one of those things can save you from the inevitable.”

As simple as that. The world is merciless. The world is cruel. All the prayers and hopes in the world won't change that. You are a goldfish at the mercy of the ocean and you simply don't get it. This applies to common vampires as well. He has lived enough to perceive the regular vampire as just as much of a temporal guest of this world that will inevitably find his way to the sharpened leg of a chair.

There is a beauty to all of this. There is plenty to be captivated with in the endless dance of destruction and creation. Old melodies must perish for new songs to arrive and one must hedonistically enjoy each second of the gala.

But there is also a reason why Tristan can so freely take satisfaction in this waltz of light and darkness:

“Now that Constantinople has fallen, the Roman Empire is no more, my Strix endure beyond even that which was deemed eternal. In time there will be no place on Earth where our influence is not felt. Not even the Mikaelsons wield that power.”

Or simplifying a principle Tristan remained loyal to for the entirety of his life: The rules don't apply to me. Be it societal, moral or universal. I'm free to desire whatever I please. I'll tame the world, not the other way around.

Because, yes. All empires fall. All reigns end. Each seat of power is a fleeting attraction. But what are his Strix if not the unique exception to the rule? If the world is a dance of destruction and creation, let him compose. He will play the compositions of most beautiful ruin and glorious rebirth. All the while, he will save what he deems worthy of everlasting life. Warriors, leaders, artists and whatever else alike. And in doing so, isn't he infinitely more generous than the world?

Tristan openly mocks the idea of guardian angels while unironically deeming himself salvation for others.

In his own twisted way, he would see himself as the only real fairy tale. Although he wouldn't like that moniker.

All things die. But if Tristan loves you? (Admittedly a monumentally rare attribute) Then you will get to live forever. Even if he has to unapologetically shatter the world into a million pieces and build it back from scratch just to ensure it always has a place for you in it.

This also relates to how even when Tristan can already have ridiculously high expectations from others, he isn't nearly as absurdly impossibly demanding of anyone else as he is of himself. But that's a headcanon for another day.

#Out of eternity #Tristan de Martel #My apologies for the disappearance. I'm dealing with a family affair.#So here you have a piece of meta no one asked for in the meantime.

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tryctophobia · 11 months

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Fallen Diligence Sans

A version of Fell Sans who absorbed the Justice and Patience souls after they convinced him to stop Frisk from doing the Genocide Route again and again. They called to him from inside their jars at the barrier, I guess. I dunno.

Outfit gets a yellow, cyan, dark mint, and bloodred redo, and the 3 souls (his and the 2 human ones) fuse into a mint-colored one with the "Diligence" trait (1, he can temporarily detach the 2 human souls from his own and retain the Diligence trait, and 2, he retains this change even through a reset, along with his memories. Yada yada, something about him absorbing the DT of the human souls, yada yada, minor timeline control or somethin', idk. How should I know how it works? Its not like I'm the creator of the AU or anything...oh). He grew around 5 inches in height. He doesn't dodge, so the souls decided to put their efforts into protecting him (aka raising his hp and defense). He now has 2700 HP and 95 defense. His damage is increased to 27, but he no longer ignores i frames. Likes the cold, and people started calling him Mint. Coincidentally, his food preference is mint-flavored... anything, really. He dislikes Hotland, and prefers to stay in Snowdin when given the chance. Papyrus still orders him about, but is afraid of Sans’s new powers (and jealous of his new look).

Powers:

Diligence Blaster; A Gaster Blaster with notably more sharp edges than normal, a light green tint, and a yellow eye and a cyan eye (for artistic purposes, the eyes are interchangeable). A bit more powerful than your typical blaster, and can be used to ram or bite opponents.

Diligence Bones; Light green bones with sharpened tips. Inflicts Bleeding instead of Karma (BD applies only to diligence bones, the non-kaboomy Exploding Knives, and his counterattack in phase 2. Mint doesn't utilize KR whatsoever).

Colored Bones; Typical blue and orange bones, but also yellow and cyan bones. The yellow ones can be shot, and the cyan ones move slow until they get near their target, at which point they move faster than can be dodged even by a Patience soul (explained later).

Boxes Bombs and Blasts; Mettaton's boxes and bombs, and small pyramids that make a fairly large explosion upon contact with anything. They all have a yellow tint.

Exploding Knives; Exactly what the name implies. Thrown knives that explode on contact (they also come in a less kaboomy variety). Have a cyan tint.

Teleportation; Also called a shortcut.

Save States; Can make a one-use save point only he can access that saves his location and health (like, if he's injured, he can use the save state to retreat and heal), but does not apply to the timeline. Time will continue as it was when he loads a save state, regardless of when he saved. It takes a decent amount of power to manifest and use (he doesn't regain the power used to make or load the save state when he uses it).

Integrity; Can turn someone's soul blue and choose which way it's oriented. No more than 3 people at a time (this applies to the other 2 traits as well).

Justice; Can turn someone's soul yellow. We've all seen it, it gives someone a yellow gun. The stronger the individual, the stronger the bullet. Can be charged for a larger blast. Out of politeness (and the rules of battle), the bullets will not hit the enemy but are instead used to counter some attacks (aka yellow bones, boxes, bombs, and the kaboomy triangles).

Patience; Can turn someone's soul cyan. The cyan soul gives the user blinding speed, but only when they need it. They can dodge most attacks, but can't move otherwise.

Anti-Gravity Slippers; Can control his own gravitational orientation (hehe big smart words)

Integrity Slam: Slams the enemy into any wall, ceiling, or floor by using a strong gravitational force. Doesn't do a whole lot of damage, is non-fatal, and takes a lot of energy to consistently repeat. Mostly used for holding someone in place *very* violently.

Finger Guns; Pew pew, Cuphead style. Not very strong, but can be fired in quick succession with next to no energy consumption.

Patience is Rewarded; The longer he stands still, the faster he regains energy.

Soul Sling; Removes the Justice and Patience souls temporarily to throw them in the form of an energy ball. Explodes on contact, and the souls return to him undamaged.

If he takes enough damage, the Justice and Patience souls will shatter, which will piss him off and make him more determined 'n stuff. He'll take more damage, but he's faster and hits harder. He no longer has Soul Sling, Exploding Knives, Boxes Bombs and Blasts, or control over the Justice and Patience traits, his control over Integrity is weakened, and his bones and blaster turn dark red (the blasters eyes turn cherry red). He gains a single attack in this phase.

Fuck Off; Uses 2 bones as defense, to deflect hits and counterattack.

Lore 'n Stuff:

Pacifist Route: When Frisk enters Snowdin, Sans is especially distrustful of their kindness, as the whole reason he absorbed the souls was to stop the Genocide. When Frisk gets to the entrance of Waterfall, Sans appears behind them, makes them turn around, grabs them by the shirt, and says "you got a whole lotta nerve waltzing through town like you're a fucking god. first you go around killing us monsters, then once something finally changes, you act like nothing happened. try that again, and see where you end up. ... or don't. i'm not looking to add to my body count anymore." before walking backwards a step, turning around, shrugging, and saying, "but what's one more death, eh? it's not like you'll stay dead anyway." He then teleports away and avoids Frisk until he sells them a single chimichanga in Hotland, after which he says, "y'know, no matter how hot this furnace of a place gets, it won't be as hot as the personal hell i'll put you in. ... time for my lunch break with the boss." before teleporting away. The last encounter with him is in the Final Corridor, when he fights Frisk. Instead of continually sparing him, Frisk instead has to talk to him for 27 turns, before finally convincing him that Frisk really did have a change of heart. He can be betrayal killed, and he gives enough EXP to get Frisk to LV 14. No G tho. When he's spared, he apologizes to Frisk (with attitude, of course). No changes to the Pacifist ending from the original AU. In True Pacifist, he's more friendly and doesn't fight you, as he remembers the previous Pacifist Route.

Genocide Route: When Sans sees Frisk enter Snowdin Forest, covered in dust, he greets them in his usual manner, with the classic "don't you know how to greet a new pal?" but when Frisk turns around and shakes his hand, he twists their arm and says, "but you're not a new pal, now are ya, human?" before promptly teleporting away. Once Frisk beats Papyrus, Sans will stand at the entrance to Waterfall, blocking their path. "sorry, kiddo, the only way to waterfall is through m e ." This is the first of 2 fights. This fight plays out the same as the Pacifist one, except for 2 things; 1, attempting to betrayal kill him results in him encasing you in bones and using his blaster repeatedly until you die, saying "nope." and 2, when he gets low hp, he flees, saying "fuck you. i got better shit to do." Frisk doesn't see him again until the Final Corridor, and there's no warning, the fight starts immediately (there's a save point and box in the corridor if you die). His intro speech is as follows: "y'know, i remember everything. every decaying, dying bird...every dried-up, wilting flower. and if you keep going...I'M GONNA HAVE SOME F U N ." When Frisk gets him to low enough hp (aka attacking him 20-25 times), he says "no!" as the human souls seperate from his own to block what would've been the last attack, shattering in the process. He looks at his hands, and then looks at the player. He says, "you fucking bastard. you killed the two friends i had left. ... y'know what, no more slacking. no more jokes, no more fun. you need to die, right now, and i'll make sure it happens." before loading his final save state and summoning 2 melee bones (there is a checkpoint once phase 2 starts, but you can choose to go though phase 1 again). Phase 2 has harder attacks, but less variety to them, as he lost access to a buncha attacks. He blocks and counterattacks 27 times. He only needs to be hit 3 times after that to kill him. The rest of the route continues as normal.

Neutral Route(s): He doesn't fight Frisk, he just takes every chance he's given to mess with or insult them. If Papyrus is killed, he says, "good riddance. ... you...you did me a favor, kid. don't start thinking i loved that jerk."

#undertale #oc #sans #the reddit post probably needs a little updating #i'll get to it eventually #maybe

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softlimefluff · 2 years

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SPW Tokyo Briefing - May 31st, 2022

Tagging @sunshine-shitposts @dongiovannaswife <3 (SPW Dallas and SPW Naples)

“Mrs. Kishibe? We’re ready for you now.”

Nodding, I handed Ellie off to Rohan, giving her a forehead kiss as she fussed quietly. “It’s okay, shhhh. I’ll be back soon.”

Squeezing my hand, Rohan nodded. “Ganbatte.”

Reaching down, I grabbed my notes and followed the SPW employee down the tiled hallway, boots clacking on the polished tiles. I had opted for a blend of professional and artsy, with a loose dress, boots, and lots of detailed accessories.

Through a heavy set of double doors, we walked into a large meeting room. Heads from SPW branches across Japan sat at a board table and I was directed to the podium at the front, setting my notes out and taking the slide show clicker.

“Ohayo Gozaimasu. My name is Ariel Kishibe and I am one of the branch heads at the Morioh Speedwagon Foundation. I personally oversaw the construction and design of the branch, along with our architects, expansion crew, and my husband, Rohan Kishibe.

As you know, Kishibe-sensei donated the grounds to the Foundation, as his grandmother used to own the property as a hotel. We built onto the existing structure, with strict co-operation with historical preservation rules, and then added on a museum, research facility, library, and even a bio dome for growing fresh flowers and food.”

Clicking through the photos of the construction and facilities, I landed on our first statistics slide.

“Ever since our opening in September 2020, we’ve had a consistent stream of guests to the museum. You can see our numbers here on the table, tracking from our opening day until now. Not only do we have education about art materials, light, and color, the branch is also the permanent home to the Kishibe Rohan collection of original Pink Dark Boy works. This attracts a large number of guests on its own, along with exclusive merchandise in the gift shop.”

Taking a short pause, I moved to the next page of notes.

“We’ve also been working to open another gallery so we can have more traveling shows and bring in even more guests with exclusive shows from artists like Takashi Murakami, Yoshitomo Nara, and contemporary manga authors like Tatsuki Fujimoto, Q Hayashida, and Gege Akutami. We think that bringing in new shows from artists similar to Kishibe-sensei would generate even more traffic from visitors who have already experienced the museum.”

Clicking to the next slide, a picture of the cafe and Tonio and Okuyasu popped up.

“We also have an award winning cafe on site��given accolades by local and international travel websites— and can do official collaborative food and drink items to match with the new gallery shows. Our expert chef, Tonio Trussardi, has been training an apprentice, Okuyasu Nijimura, and together they’re able to brainstorm an impressive range of new culinary delights for the museum.”

Taking a pause, I glanced up at the room momentarily, continuing with the talk.

“The museum and its meeting areas have also become indispensable to the local community, acting as a place for young adults to start clubs, students and adults to try new art techniques through public classes, and even working with the local food banks to make sure any extra food from the cafe is donated back to the community.”

Clicking to the research area, I began the next section of my presentation.

“The museum has worked as the perfect cover for the SPW research going on at the location. Morioh has long been a hotspot for stand activity as a result of the stand arrows. While the arrowheads have now been transported to other locations for analysis and we have less malicious stand activity, we still have a large group of users in the city.”

Flipping to a slide of the many users and their stands, I put both hands on the podium.

“Many of the abilities that have been unlocked in Morioh have been highly beneficial to the user and to society at large. Healing powers, stands that can use sound as weapons or protection, stands that increase strength, that bring out the truth, or change people’s emotions. We have quite the range in our town and we’re proud of our stand diversity.”

On the next few slides, I had lists of research goals for the future.

“Now that you have some background on Morioh, I would like to address what research we have already completed and what we would like to expand in the future.”

Clicking to the first goal, I stepped to one side of the podium, detailing our Foundation’s mission.

“Our branch’s main focus is stand users and their potential for creation and growth. We’ve been keeping track of stand users who have gotten married and are now having kids, even my husband and myself. We’re curious to know if there’s any difference for users who have been pierced by the arrow versus born stand users—if there’s any impact on the conception and gestation of the child, their development while growing up, and if they also are stand users.”

On the next slide, there was a list called “stages of born stand users.”

“Along with Helena Giovanna from the Naples SPW Branch, we propose a list of stages for born stand users:

-Dormant

-Awakening

-Active

-Growing

-Developed

“We start with the foundational research that stands are the result of the virus found in the rare alien meteorite of Cape York, Greenland. We also know that stand arrows are made from polished meteorite from that same Cape York crater. If a potential user successfully survives the fever from the virus, the mutations unlock the natural ability to manifest and manipulate a stand.”

On the next slide, I had illustrated a diagram for potential combinations for stand user kids.

“We believe that if both parents have this mutation, then the offspring of the stand users will also have that same mutation, in a way, passing down or allowing the child to ‘inherit’ a stand. We also suppose, then, that every child from two stand users will have a stand ability from birth, even if it isn’t immediately apparent.”

Gesturing to the slide, I made note of other possibilities.

“We have a few children of two stand users under general observational checkups as they grow. Another stand user child is on the way as well, with a non stand user mother. We’re curious to see how this differs from the two arrow-born parents. In addition, we recently had two stand users get married who are interested in starting a family—one born from the stone mask and the other a stand user from birth.”

Grabbing the next pages of notes, I flicked on the next slide.

“We also have a case of a stand user mutated by Dio’s flesh bud under our care, working on a potential cure for his condition. We’ve been using UV rays along with the users’ own healing abilities to try to kill off the Brando cells, but have only had minimal improvement. Now that Dio has returned and is part of the Foundation, we’d like to have our branch analyze his DNA more and see if we could make progress in healing our patient.”

Bringing up the next to last slide, I steadied myself, thinking about Rohan and Heaven’s Door with a blush and reigning in my happiness to be more professional.

“Finally, we’ve seen the possibility for stand growth in users from Morioh and would like to document that process further—as with the stand users Koichi Hirose and his stand Echoes and Rohan Kishibe and his stand Heaven’s Door.

Furthermore, we have also noticed that if stand users are deeply connected to one another, their stands become more in sync—like souls resonating and bonding with one another. There have been multiple instances of stands from synced users being able to extend range or use each other’s powers to create a more powerful attack.

We would like to explore the implications for training stronger stands AND combination attacks.”

Centering myself at the podium again, I made eye contact with the branch leaders across the room.

“We at the SPW Morioh branch are requesting closer co-operation with other branches, specifically the Dallas branch and Naples branch. We already have personal connections with members there and would like to consult them more frequently for research purposes.

We hope that the research being done and programs in place are a tribute to the Foundation. We humbly request your continued support as we expand our research to benefit the stand user community. Thank you.”

Picking up my notes as the board members clapped, I bowed politely, then exited the room back through the same doors I had entered. Rohan and Ellie were right outside, waiting for me, and I ran over, pulling Rohan into a hug and burying my face into his shoulder with a grin.

“How did it go, Ari?”

Giggling, I took a second to calm down, holding onto Rohan’s jacket, then pulling away. “Perfect. We said everything we needed to say. Presented the Foundation, our focus, our ideas. I just hope that we have approval on everything and can secure more funding. And… I dunno, I hope Mr. Speedwagon would be proud of what we’re doing. He always wanted to support the Joestar family and. I hope we are too…”

Rohan smiled, kissing my forehead. “I think he would be, Ari.”

Taking my papers, Rohan handed over Ellie and I held her tight, bouncing her and walking down the hall with her on my hip.

“Mrs. Kishibe?”

Turning around, my heart leapt, seeing the attendant from earlier and worried something had gone wrong.

“Yes?”

“We’d like to present you with this.” Handing over a manilla envelope, the attendant smiled. “The Tokyo board was impressed with your presentation and have completely approved an expanded budget for your branch. We wish you good luck in your research this year and look forward to seeing your branch’s results in updates.”

“T-thank you!” Eyes wide, I took the packet, handing it over to Rohan. “Are we cleared to return home??”

“Yes. All your responsibilities are fulfilled here. The board simply wanted to know about the costs of the project in Morioh and why we had spent so much, but now they see the reasons and possibilities. You’ve won them over~”

Shoulders relaxing, a wave of relief washed over me. “Thank goodness.”

“We hope to see you again, Mrs. Kishibe, perhaps under less stressful circumstances.”

Nodding, I bowed politely, turning to walk with Rohan out of the branch.

“I didn’t get to hear any of it, but I know you nailed that~” Rohan grinned, waving the envelope. “I’m proud of you, babe.”

“Mama??” Ellie looked up, then snuggled under my chin. “Hungry.”

“Mmmm, yeah me too, sweetie. Let’s get some lunch.”

#I loved writing this !!#we have our direction for this summer and beyond #<3 #spw morioh #speedwagon foundation #AriHan #bb ellie #jojo lore #stand lore #stand users

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nerath-mp · 10 months

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Geography: The Former Upper Kingdom of Khonsuria, the Desert Nomads of Qaysarra

Geography

East of the kingdom of Khonsuria, the dark rust-red of the Bloodsands intensifies as you near the heart of that cursed desert. This wasteland is home to terrors of the ancient Bael Turath empire and the sentinels the gods placed there to ensure the ancient sins are never unburied.

(Source: "Death's Oasis" card art for Magic the Gathering card game; art by Grzegorz Rutkowski | a common end for those travelling the marshes without an experienced guide... and a lot of well-supplied guards)

The founding of Qaysarra begins in the time before the Dawn War, when between Ilsundal's city of Sarkhaen Tair and where the Upper Kingdom proper would lie, laid a blight of fetid swamps and strange magics, the Gloom Marshes of Tashgar. The Marshes were a wound on the First Work whose tale is unknown even to the gods. Once it was merely the beasts and the diseases of the land that endangered beings, now it is a place of the Ammalut, mutated lizardfolk, eaters of souls. Yet, still, the early First Dynasty of Khonsuria, with the help of halfling caravans, found ways to move through the land, risking attacks, to the lands beyond and what was once Bael Turath's central cities and the birthplace of their empire. When the Scouring passed and the Ctabakul River carved through the marshes, the Upper Kingdom was founded.

Qaysarra, what is left of that Upper Kingdom, properly only counts the land north of the Ctabakul River, south of this a no-man's-land simply referred to as the Burned Lands, encompassing the area about the capital of Bael Turath - the Asmodean Cauldron.

(Source: landscape and terrain screenshot from Assassin's Creed Origins video game by principal environment artist Louis Lavoie)

Beyond this, the desert is said to extend to the shores of a sea whose name is lost to time, and has an evil reputation due to something only whispered, the City of Apostasy - a place where those immortal beings wishing to abandon the Dawn War and all other loyalties dwell, in some place where gods cannot see and primordials cannot walk. It is a place fit only for those who betray every oath of loyalty, all bonds of friendship and hold nothing, not even themselves, as sacred. It is not a place for mortal souls. As one travels north, much like the Lower Kingdom, the scars of the Scouring fade as the elevation rises to the Kitezhan Mountains, and we will speak of this region in its own post.

(Source: "The One King" by Mark Kolobaev on Artstation | the Kitezhan hint at a relationship with humanity - both as the edge of the world as Bael Turath knew it, and as the weapon used against them during the Giantwar)

Feral turathi packs, demonic gnolls, crusader fortresses dedicated to hunting the turathi in the name of the sun-god, and the brave open-sand halflings cross this burning land. The largest 'rebel' civilization here are the nomadic sphinxfolk of Qaysarra. These bandits and herdsmen rejected the rule of the sphinx centuries ago when the ruling dynasty of the era peered too deeply into secrets best unknown and became corrupted by the madness of the Far Realm.

(Source: "Purple Worm" by Joel Pigou on Artstation)

The only permanent structure in Qaysarra is the canyon 'ghost-city' of Naafl al-Yrka, once a mining town and now the informal capital of the kingdom of nomads. They tribes gather here twice per year to trade and deal with halflings caravans who cross the desert. The city itself is said to hoard the riches of the old sphinxes from the times of Ilsundal and the Scouring but protected by the nomads and a powerful curse over it all, one absorbed from the Bloodsands itself, that dooms any would-be thief to a painful death.

(Left: a photograph of the Lost City of Petra in Jordan found via Google search | A good approximation for Naafl al-Yrka)

(Right: a xorn sultan of Zanskar made for the Pathfinder rpg; art by Will O'Brien | this xorn is a common sight when the tribes gather at Naafl al-Yrka, it is a merchant from the City of Brass, travelling to Qaysarra to collect as much of the metals and ores it can for the ifrit forges then sells the weapons and armor to who ever can pay, it often sits in a strange palanquin on pillows of silken thunderclouds, always with a ice plate covered in semi-precious gems, jeweled rings, and other sources of food)

Local Baelish communities have adopted the nomadic sphinxfolk social models, but also attempt to maintain fortified shrines to Helia, the Sun-King's Wrath. In these sanctified shrines, reclusive clerics teach of the sacred duty to cleanse humanity of the taint of Bael Turath by sacrificing turathi victims to the gods in appeasement for the sin of deicide. They aggressively harass the other nomads, seeking more horned sacrifices, bringing them into conflict with pretty much everyone else. When their clerics decide the gods are demanding more death, the raiders are often little better than gnolls in their ruination they spread.

(Source: unknown, artist is "Noah" | a column of Baelish Helian crusaders on the march)

As the Valisians settled the Kitezhan mountains and proved to be less hostile to them, many turathi sought sanctuary with them, making the hunts of the wild zealots pit themselves against hives of khepri, or thri-kreen nests protected from the curse of the land by their nonhuman nature and the desert heat by their cool tunnels beneath the desert sands.

Qaysarran Society

Isolated from the light of Ioun by the Gloom Marshes, the sphinxfolk of the Upper Kingdom were always an independent lot. The harshness of the Scouring left a land too difficult to cultivate, even where the eastern river of life, the Ctabakul, flowed it was quickly swallowed by the sand after hemorrhaging its life-giving sustenance in the marshes. Only with great care and the placement of vessels of lesser power (larger devices similar to a decanter of endless water) and careful irrigation were crops able to grow. The kingdom was a place of history and contemplation, with some mining of the region for the obsidian and other volcanic materials. There were also places of study and research, carefully mapping the Bloodsands for signs of the blight growing, and watching in case the dread empire rose from its grave.

(Source: "Tall Black Church" by Bubblewolf on Deviantart)

When they rose up and slaughtered their corrupt sphinx nobility, the mortals of the Upper Kingdom were fearful of reprisal - from the remaining sphinxes, from the the Pharaoh, or from Ioun and her celestial servants. They abandoned all their cities and farms, any home where they were known to live, taking what they could and heading into the wilderness. What emerged then was a culture of semi-nomadic movement, from one oasis to another.

Each "tribe" is ruled by a sheik, and can include all sorts of sphinxfolk, Baelish humans and others who are willing to pledge themselves to the tribe and abide by its rules. They practice a delicate balance of predation in their encamped area and sustainability to ensure there remain sufficient members of any animal or plant species, not to mention precious water resources, to recover and restore itself while the tribe moves on.

(Source: "Thark Camp" concept art for John Carter of Mars movie; art by Ryan Church, no links as verifying his portfolio site triggered my anti-virus)

The major tribes can number up to a thousand members, the smallest are barely a dozen from a single family. Most roam in circuits, protecting 'their' water and food sources from rivals. Ioun is still worshipped by the bipedal khonsurians, but the sagitary have taken more to a mix of Serkhet (Helia's khonsurian name, She-Who-Slaughters-And-Heals) and primal spirit supplication via druids of the Sands, the Land, and the Swarm (the latter limited to those who live near the insectoid hives and nests).

Tribal territory is dynamic, and conflicts over resources happens often. A common form is the unapproved knowledge of a recovering oasis, depleting it to a point where it cannot regenerate fully. Combined with the weather of the central Bloodsand, this can be deadly to a tribe who relies on those resources to survive. Open violence is rare, but reprisal attacks and assassination are common methods of expressing displeasure, as is the demand for payment - usually in food, water and domesticated animals. Neighbouring tribes will hammer out agreements to share resources in times of drought, reinforced by intermarriage of the various families.

(Source: "Orken" by Claudiu-Antoniu Magherusan | a gnoll raider attack)

Due to Baelish influence over time, and reliance on the halflings, the spoken language of Qaysarra is littered with Infernal and Halfling vocabulary, much of it specialized to deal with the environment. While it is still understandable (with effort if one is not familiar with one or both other languages), Qaysarran khonsurian comes across as harsh and contradictory to western ears. In the presence of westerners the nomads believe may be spies from the Pharaoh, they will lean heavily into their "accents" and specialized vocabulary in a way reminiscent of Thieves Cant.

Nomad faith

Worship of Ioun is practiced in private and is deeply intimate for the sphinxfolk. Prayers are said often in the dark of the tent and in the middle of the blistering day. This is done to prevent drawing her attention (the darkness does not allow her to "see" to worshipper, and the midday ritual discourages her servants from travelling or lingering in the sands). Despite their desire to hide from her, the khonsurians consider her still their most important deity and value her divine domains of knowledge, intelligence, and symbols. To the nomads, they remain faithful to Ioun, but fear her anger at slaughtering the sphinx who were higher than they in the hierarchy between her and themselves.

(Source: "Awaiting orders" concept art piece by Bdunn-art | a Baelish intruding on midday contemplation of Ioun)

The nomads, like their western counterparts, also pay respects to the Khonsurian interpretation of the divine pantheon, albeit slightly modified:

Anuchet (Avandra), Ammon (Pelor), Sekhet (Helia), Aakhu, and Seshet (Sehanine) are commonly given more public prayers, as is Vecna as secret-keeper and invoked to defend against Ioun's awareness.

Aakhu (Corellon) is the diety of rain to the nomads, not Niet (Melora) as is more common in the west.

Sheth-Kehta, the mad-loner, normally a spirit associated with Anuchet is more associated with bad luck, unjust users of oases, and gnolls, in practice it is unknown if the prayers go to the original celestial servant of Avandra or have become confused with rituals to ward off the demon lord Yeenoghu.

Seker-dhur (Moradin) is not often worshipped, but sometimes invoked when dealing with khepri and other insectoids.

Those tribes with significant Baelish members also venerate Sekhet by her human name, Helia, they do not necessarily hold the two names as two different entities, but the Baelish prayers differ from traditional khonsurian prayers, and the two practices remain oddly distinct, practiced side by side.

(Source: "Angel of Silence" by Piotr Arendzikowski | inspirational pic of a pale skinned Baelish with a ritual winged mask of Helia made of Solar Gold, a gold strengthened and lightened by magical consecration, grey-white feathered wings could be a costume or a magical effect)

There are few if any druids or other primal magic users, the sphinxfolk still thinking the spirits are unworthy of attention, but some do turn to primordial worship (particularly powerful water elementals or djinn who can promise to conjure rain and shadow from their clouds) and even Asmodeus, although as usual for this region, these last are very secretive out of fear of execution. Typical sentences for those believes in league with The Usurper is stoning or dismemberment, followed by having one's mouth filled with a mix of Bloodsand, feces, urine and salt to "seal" the evil soul in the body for eternity.

(Source: "sandmage" by Laszlo Kiss | A primordial-serving elementalist, likely a genie-pact warlock)

Part 2 will cover the Burned Lands, what lays beyond Qaysarra to the utter east, and recent events.

#nerath #lore #dnd campaign #khonsuria #bael turath #ioun #fantasy geography #sphinxfolk #halflings #baelish (human culture)#helia

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shedidthatgirlinnovators · 1 year

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Supernatural Girls

What are your thoughts on the evolution of depictions of Supernatural Powers in young women?

My earliest influence watching women with supernatural powers was Wonder Woman. Linda Carter was the epitome for me of beauty and an antithesis of the typical blonde haired blue eyes women which were prevalent on the small screen. Now with movies like X-Men we have women like Storm, Mistique who offer a new champion in the power of young women with contemporary themes that are relatable to their experiences: finding their voice, standing up for the weak, defending justice are just a few of the themes in the Marvel and DC franchise films.

2. How is magical power related to adolescence? Adolescence is a heightened time where young women in particular are feeling the conflicts of living by rules set by their parents, the world, school and wanting to break free from the restraints of boundaries. Magical power goes against all laws of boundary and reason.

There is no reason, or rationale as to why magic works, but it is the epitome of "feeling yourself" knowing your power, owning your strengths and showing it to the world. This is the messaging in all the examples of young female powers.

3. What impact does the depiction of magic and the sense of agency it represents have on real girls and young women in this era of emerging teenage girl leadership? Magic and its depiction can be extremes from dark to light. Many religions go against the dabble in what is known as the black arts, or calling oneself a witch or white witch, voodoo and spells; these all have connotations that are attributed to black magic or the dark arts. Many of it has been depicted as unnatural and synonymous with cultures originating from the south of the United States or Haiti, Jamaican, African. What we see on American television can be said as a watered down "white" representation of black magic for the consumption of mass media. Many young girls I remember in high school who were considered "goth" who wore black, dark hair, spiked clothing was considered witches and the freaks and geeks of the school.

The sense of agency the dark arts offers is a place of belonging and often times in unfortunate circumstances, young women who find themselves seeking identity in this type of culture can lose themselves if not careful or knowledgeable as to exactly what the practice is, the young men they align themselves with like Marilyn Manson and the consequences.

The evolution as performer to feminist is a roadmap, I believe to young girls finding their "magic" power. It is a space of play into what an idea can be. Performing is an artistic form of expression and activism is the space of taking that idea and making that power work in reality.

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fanficcrossoverprompts · 2 years

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Encanto Wizarding Info: The Ultimate Collection Part 1

Alma Madrigal

Wand:

Laurel wood with a dragon heartstring core, 12 and quite flexible flexibility

Laurel

It is said that a laurel wand cannot perform a dishonourable act, although in the quest for glory (a not uncommon goal for those best suited to these wands), I have known laurel wands perform powerful and sometimes lethal magic. Laurel wands are sometimes called fickle, but this is unfair. The laurel wand seems unable to tolerate laziness in a possessor, and it is in such conditions that it is most easily and willingly won away. Otherwise, it will cleave happily to its first match forever, and indeed has the unusual and engaging attribute of issuing a spontaneous lightning strike if another witch or wizard attempts to steal it.

Dragon

As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner.

The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.

Ilvermorny House:

Soul: Thunderbirds are defined by their experiences, by their motives, and by the choices they make despite their circumstances. They are soul-searchers, travelers, breakers of boundaries, and those who defy expectations. To a Thunderbird, there are no coincidences or accidents; Thunderbirds can have grounded and self-possessed as well as trailblazing and tumultuous personalities.

Hogwarts House:

Ravenclaw House

Founder: Rowena Ravenclaw

Head of House: Professor Filius Flitwick

House Ghost: The Grey Lady

House Colours: Blue and bronze

Main Characters: Luna Lovegood and Cho Chang

Of all the Hogwarts Houses, Ravenclaws get the least amount of attention in the Harry Potter series, and they have the fewest main characters. Many Ravenclaws are disgruntled by the fact that some characters who exemplify their primary house strengths and culture were sorted elsewhere (for example, Hermione and Dumbledore). Despite this, Ravenclaws have a strong sense of house identity and fellowship, and there are many online communities of friendly Ravenclaws willing to welcome a new member into their fold!

"Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning can always find their kind."

Ravenclaw Traits and Strengths:

Intelligence: While not all Ravenclaws are naturally intelligent, all members of the house have a strong thirst for knowledge and learning that places them among the best students in the Wizarding World, and this quality adds up to a generally high level of intelligence and knowledge among members of the House.

Curiosity: One of the main traits that defines the Ravenclaw House is a desire for exploration, inquiry, and learning. Ravenclaws are generally highly curious about the world around them and are constantly asking questions to expand their understanding.

Creativity: Ravenclaws tend to be "out-of-the-box" thinkers and as such can be highly creative. This creativity effects their spell-work and their way of relating to others and also means that many Ravenclaws are artistic and have unique approaches to solving problems.

Individuality: Ravenclaws are highly individualistic and don't tend to follow the crowd or succumb to peer pressure. In essence, they do what they want to do. This is most obviously exemplified by Luna Lovegood, who wears radish-like fruits as earrings and is fiercely true to her own identity, even when people tease her for it.

Ravenclaw Weaknesses:

Disconnection From the Outside World: Because Ravenclaws tend to live inside their own heads, they can come across as vague, disconnected, or uninterested. Some are genuinely disdainful of others and the outside world, but most simply don't understand that their constant daydreaming is inappropriate in certain situations.

Arrogance: Ravenclaws can be arrogant about their own intelligence and use it as a justification to view themselves as being better than others.

Isolation: Some Ravenclaws purposefully isolate themselves from others... even from their fellow Ravenclaws. This isolation can occur for innocent reasons—for example, if they want to be alone to study for an upcoming test or read a good book—but it can also be a byproduct of arrogance. They may view themselves as being better than others and may be unwilling to associate with inferiors.

Patronus:

Kingfisher

Kingfishers are very confident and ambitious, and they are also gorgeous, stunning creatures. People with this Patronus likely place value in other people’s opinions of them and how they look. You also have high standards and goals you set for yourself, but you work very hard and usually achieve them.

Animagus Form:

Grey Cat

The grey cat has strong symbolism for those experiencing difficult times or times of transition.

They bring out hope in us, helping us to understand our spiritual problems so that we can work to overcome them.

Theirs is a spirit of self-improvement and of changing with the journey.

Grey cats are also symbolic of the difficult decisions we must make as human beings and help us to reach the right conclusion when it isn’t clear precisely what the right choice is.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

#encanto #encanto alma #reblog post #alma encanto #alma madrigal #encanto abuela #abuela madrigal #abuela alma encanto #abuela alma madrigal #la familia madrigal #the family madrigal #the madrigal family #madrigal family #familia madrigal #madrigal matriarch

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crash-hawk · 2 years

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Kaleidoscope AU Masterpost

What is the Kaleidoscope AU? Kaleidoscope started as self-indulgent cringe fanfiction-of-fanfiction with my longfic WIP Color Wheel back in June of 2021, born of my intense Passerine and Tales From the SMP-related brainrot. It quickly absorbed several other flavors of brainrot and has since expanded into a massive multi-author and artist collaborative effort that is still growing to this day.

The Kaleidoscope AU is a Passerine expansion AU that incorporates characters and story arcs from across the MCYT Cinematic Universe. All credit and much love, as ever, to the inimitable Kyle Thcscus, whose worldbuilding skills left me mired in brainrot that I will never recover from, and to my co-writers and artists @lunarblazes, @exactlymypoint, @solar-cactus, @mikartisa, @sirbilliamiii, @argonaughtkeene, @zombiepal, @mangop1e, @redwinterroses, and @cocoabats, who made this series into something incredibly special to me, and so much more than I could ever have achieved on my own.

Works in the Kaleidoscope AU Fanfiction Color Wheel by ExpositionFairy (aka me): In the immediate aftermath of Passerine, the heroes and their friends struggle to come to terms with the fallout, while sinister entities both new and very, very old jockey for control in the power vaccuum the Green God left behind.

Three, by ExpositionFairy: In which an odd remote island full of eccentrics both mortal and immortal gets a visit from the Green God and his friends, campfire tales are told, and Grian learns too late that no one can fly under the radar forever. (A prequel taking place approximately 350 years before the events of Passerine/Color Wheel.)

give me back my heart, you wingless thing by lunarblazes: Twelve gods and their mortal companions fight to remember themselves in the midst of Dream’s deadly game.

To Stars and Void He Will Return by @exactlymypoint and Supernova by @solar-cactus: The God of the Stars does the only thing he can think of to do in order to save his doomed mortal lover from the Green God’s machinations.

Hurricane by ExpositionFairy: In the wake of the events of Three and Wingless, the devastated Hermits struggle to pick up the pieces, as their world continues to entangle itself with that of their Dream SMP counterparts until a world-shaking event changes everything forever. (Bridges the time period between Three and Passerine/Color Wheel)

as days go by (the night’s on fire) by ExpositionFairy: The storm is over, the nightmare banished to the dark...but dawn brings troubles of its own. (Set directly following Hurricane leading up to Color Wheel)

balance of the scales/these stones take no comfort under foreigners’ footsteps by midge1: Doc, Keeper of the Scales of Balance, and Iskall, God of Stone and Mountain, encounter the terrifying fallout of Dream’s actions and fight to defend their afflicted friends.

Voices by ExpositionFairy and when I’m far too tired to fall asleep by @lunarblazes: Twenty years after the events of Three, the Hermits and their friends find themselves back in horrifyingly familiar circumstances...only this time the rules have changed, and the unwilling players discover that they’ve changed along with them. screaming at the sun you throw into by @lunarblazes: At his lowest moment, Grian reaches out for help in facing his worst fears and hits on a novel (if rather scuffed) way to come to terms with who and what he’s become. (takes place between Voices/when I’m far to tired to fall asleep and the final chapters of Hurricane) Judge of Souls by @exactlymypoint: Wels, psychopomp and Guardian of the Gates of Hell, reflects on life and death, friends and foes. take my hand (take my whole life too) by @buildmarts: Niki and Puffy finally find peace in the next world.

Promises, Promises by ExpositionFairy (Tumblr exclusive): Punz receives an offer too tempting to refuse. the saying goes ‘ashes to ashes,’ doesn’t it? by @lunarblazes: Tales from the early days of Boatem, and how four immortal misfits and one oddball human became a family. The Manic Mockingbird and Death’s Last Protege by @lunarblazes: History becomes legend, legend becomes myth. so you feel entitled to a sense of control by @bananasofthorns: On their way to Boatem Village, the Green God and his companions come across an odd little market in the middle of nowhere. (Takes place immediately prior to Three)

stretching the truth out of shape by @bananasofthorns: Hypno and XB, and the origins of an unlikely friendship.

you’re a smart kid, tough kid (but you’re still a kid) by @mangop1e: A tale of two brothers, and a desperate deal (takes place directly after Chapters 11 and 12 of Color Wheel)

Fanart Color Wheel cover art by @redwinterroses PearlescentMoon from Chapter 14 of Color Wheel by @mikartisa False, Iskall, and Wels from Chapter 1 of Hurricane by @zombiepal Grian Sunstealer by @lunarblazes “I love you” and “I’m sorry”: Sam and Ponk from Chapter 15 of Color Wheel by @mikartisa The Phoenix from Chapter 5 of Hurricane by @cocoabats (Updated 07/15/22!)

#Dream SMP #Hermitcraft #Passerine #Third Life SMP #Last Life SMP #100 Hours Hardcore SMP #Hermbi Discord #Kaleidoscope AU #Fanfiction

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lilithsrecord · 3 years

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𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖟𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖑

part 2

♱ 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

outward appearance means nothing if your are unable to carry yourself with grace and confidence. it’s important to radiate an aura that is unique to u and is beautiful and enchanting to others. find your essence. are u an ethereal innocent angel or a bombshell femme fatale? Just by channeling in a sort of character in your demeanour can drastically change how other people view you. you might be wondering “hey this is a bit much just for school,” and ur right but it’s all fun at the end of the day

𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

𝔣𝔢𝔪𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔢:

femme fatale: noun

an attractive and seductive woman, especially one who is likely to cause distress or disaster to a man who becomes involved with her.

"a femme fatale who plays one man off against another in pursuit of money"

a femme fatale is a women who shows power through how well she can toy with a mans brain. in hindsight she might seem like a women catered to the male gaze due to the strong enchantment she has upon men, but do not be fooled. a femme fatale is a strong willed and powerful women who only caters to her own needs. she achieves her goals by seducing her pawns to use them to her own advantage. channeling in the characteristics of a femme fatale can make one feel powerful, sexy, and oh so alluring. to become a femme fatale you must ooze with seduction. femme fatale examples include gilda, from the movie “gilda”, jane smith from “mr. and mrs. smith, and amy dunne from “gone girl”.

feel powerful when you walk from one place to another. let other people stare at you while they feel intrigued by ur allure but never completely give them what they want.

make your appearance look bold and striking. be sexy. dress to show off what other people want for themselves. wear dark and luxurious colours. let your hair be free and voluptuous. a bold lip and sharp eye makeup brings attention to the most seductive parts of your face. a femme fatale is nothing without a striking appearance

have your voice sound like smooth whiskey. speak slow to captivate others. make sure your voice comes out prominent and clear. add a slight rasp into your voice. each word u speak should be carefully chosen. people should be addicted to hearing you speak. be sassy and smart but always with class.

smell expensive. pick a scent that exudes class. examples: black orchid by tom ford. mugler alien. good girl by carolina herrera.

a femme fatale makes sure to always get her way. don’t be afraid to use ur seductive quality’s to get what u want whether that is good grades or social status. [ however do not put urself in dangerous positions. please don’t sleep with a teacher lmao ]

𝔠𝔬𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢

coquette: noun

a woman who flirts.

in my own definition a coquette to me is a girl who is delicate and radiates innocence. she is more commonly known as the girl next door or the pretty girl. people become attracted to this essence due to the childish ways of a coquette. though that sounds concerning, a coquette isn’t a women who tries to act like a child on purpose. she is just a women who is naturally sweet and innocent. they hold onto a childlike quality that the rest of us have lost and so desperately crave. the allure of the coquette is ultimately her adorableness. her demeanour is light hearted and youthful. no one feels the need to do her wrong because she is just too cute for any harm. she is an ingenue. examples of coquettes are lizzy grant, cat valentine from “victorious”, alice cullen from “twilight”, and marilyn monroe.

wear clothes that make u look cute. the coquette aesthetic has been around for quite a while. the main aspect of a coquette outfit is its innocently teasing nature. wear bright colours that compliment ur skin like a blush pink, bright reds, and pretty lilacs. make people around u appreciate ur innocent look but know that there imagination is running wild. the makeup for these looks are more natural and rely on the condition of ur actual skin. take good care of ur skin. have a set routine but remember that it’s completely okay if u have pimples! you can still be a pretty little coquette even with acne.

vanilla or any kind of sweet scents are a staple for the coquette essence. ariana grandes perfumes are perfect for making people mouths water for a sweet snack when u walk by. olympea by paco rabanne is my personal favourite.

be kind and sweet to people who deserve it. people need to see u as a sweet and innocent doll who can do no wrong. but don’t be afraid to be risky and be the complete opposite of that once in a while. the rare moments where u show ur femme fatale side will have people incredibly intrigued by you.

perfect your voice. your voice should sound pleasant like some sort of princess. make your voice sound higher but not ear screeching high. add a beautiful mix of air and softness to ur voice. a breathy voice is incredibly intoxicating and suits the coquette.

𝔭ê𝔩𝔢-𝔪ê𝔩𝔢

pêle-mêle: adverb

in a confused, rushed, or disorderly manner.

also known as the manic pixie dream girl, a pêle-mêle is the essence of a girl who is described as whimsical, eccentric and is quite literal the life of the party. though at first glance she’s all rainbows and sun shine, the shadow side of the pêle-mêle can be described as a tortured artist. her optimism is delightful. she is not afraid to take risks. she’s a mess but people can not help to be intrigued by her free spirited ways for she is a drug to people who crave adventure. examples of a pêle-mêle include ramona flowers from scott pilgrim vs the world, mia wallace from pulp fiction, harley quinn from the DC comics, and holly golighty from breakfast at tiffany’s.

don’t be afraid to take risks. risks and adventure is what the pêle-mêle lives off of. be brave. do things you are afraid to do. start small and work your way up like from riding that roller coaster your so afraid of to having a motorcycle race with your friends (trust me those are so fun!). show people just how daring you can be and immediately people will be magnetized to you.

wear clothes that are unique and you feel comfortable with. the pêle-mêle rejects conformity and the way you appear should reflect that. wear clothes that harmonize with your crazy personality. be daring and bold with your makeup. make sure you stand out from the crowd and that you do not care what people think. the alternative style perfectly suits someone who embodies this essence.

be confident. obviously this rule applies to all the essences but confidence and self love is at the core of the pêle-mêle. you need to show people that you do not care what they think of you and that at the end of the day, you are just here for a good time. the more you practice self love, the easier it will be for you to express yourself without the fear of judgement from others.

be a socialite. don’t be afraid to speak your mind to people. pêle-mêle’s are usually people persons. they love good company that they can go on adventures with. make friends by being your true self and don’t hold yourself back. even a few mishaps by saying the wrong thing from time to time can make people fall in love with your clumsy nature.

obviously there are plenty of other essences you can achieve for yourself but these are my top three favourites. to find out who exactly who you want to become try the few tips listed below!

how to find your personal essence

what kind of people captivate you? what type of personalities do you see that you wish you could be? do you find yourself being envious of the pretty girl next door, the man eater, or the mysterious persona? figure out what kind of a person do u wish to truly become and inherit their manner. find out the characteristic of ur desired essence to the littlest of detail. this can include from the way you walk, talk, eat, sleep, look, smell ext. think of this as becoming your ideal best self. take the female archetype quiz to get a better understanding of your self.

what kind of aesthetic catches your eye? do you enjoy the glamorous high fashion life or do you like the softer cherry coke and heart shaped sunglasses niche? maybe you enjoy completely different things or a blend of a few. live up to this aesthetic. do this by expressing this aesthetic in the way you dress to how u decorate your room.

what kind of environment do you feel the most comfortable in? are you someone who loves education and school? or do you love the idea of being free and living in an RV for the rest of your life? maybe you just want to live in a cozy high rise new york apartment or a huge mansion up in beverly hills. envision where you see your ideal self in 10-20 years. your ideal environment can reveal a lot about what kind of lifestyle choices you want to make.

you might be thinking to yourself hey these aren’t the best tips for school. and at an educational standpoint you’re right. but it’s important to embody your best ideal self to truly enjoy this lifetime. these are little things that can be used to motivate you. i believe that inner self work should be prioritized over your school work though both are important. make sure you are taking some time out of your week to find out more about yourself and who you want to become. be the best you.

#dollette #nymphcore #coquette #lana del ray aka lizzy grant #highschool #backtoschool #lolita #lana del rey #lizzy grant #grunge #soft grunge #lawofattraction #spurituality #advice #pretty

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houseofhurricane · 2 years

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Rules for Spies: Chapter Fourteen

Summary: While Azriel and Gwyn work to free Koschei’s captives, attraction turns into something more.

Chapter Word Count: 3,718

Warnings: This chapter contains references to torture, and this fic includes mature consensual sexual situations, references to past assault, and torture.

Art & Banner: cosmikla

All chapters are available on Archive of Our Own. All previous chapters linked here.

Gwyn stays in the library for a single sleepless night before she finds a small apartment in the Rainbow.

Clotho had not asked for an explanation when Gwyn appeared at her office door, still in her leathers with tears streaming hot down her cheeks, had only led Gwyn to her old room and offered her a sleeping draught. She hadn’t taken it, not wanting the heavy, dreamless state, and had instead tossed and turned in the darkness, thoughts racing. Behind her eyelids, she saw Azriel wearing a thousand different expressions, but always, he was covered in blood, and when he drew near to her, she moved away from him, not even wanting him to open his mouth, not wanting to say that he was her mate. She forced herself to lay in the darkness until she heard the other priestesses rising with the dawn.

She and Clotho had met for an hour, most of which Gwyn had spent in a bewildered silence, until Clotho had written, I think you’re ready to make your home outside the library, and then a strange laugh had broken from her mouth, disbelieving and more than a little mean. Still Clotho wore an expression of deep tenderness.

You are ready for this world, Gwyneth, if you want it.

“I feel as if the world has destroyed me.”

And yet you are still standing. Clotho paused, looked up at Gwyn, and then waved her hand over her tablet for new words. There will always be a place for you in the library. But I think you will find it confining.

“Could I still work here?”

Because Clotho was right. Gwyn had felt confined in that tiny room, the walls no longer an embrace but a restriction. And there was still the mission, even if she had no idea what that would look like. No matter how bruised and broken her heart felt, her life had expanded beyond the walls of the library.

Of course, Clotho wrote, and I’d be grateful if you’d sing at services, whenever you’re able.

“Even with my powers?” Because the High Lady’s words have lingered in her mind.

You have never been as terrible as you imagine. And Clotho’s face was so, so gentle, and Gwyn felt something in herself relax. She remembered just how much the library had saved her, how the priestesses had buoyed her when she could barely stand.

From beneath her desk, Clotho pulled up a small cloth bag, heavy with its contents, and when she pushed it across the desk, into Gwyn’s hands, she realized that it was filled with enough gold to last her for a year. She could go anywhere she wanted, do anything she liked.

That’s in addition to your stipend, Clotho wrote, and then pulled Gwyn into an embrace. Touch was rare and careful in the library, in deference to all that its inhabitants endured, and that made the priestesses’ arms doubly comforting.

At first Gwyn had worried she wouldn’t be able to find a place to live, but her feet had taken her on the path Azriel had flown weeks ago, and within minutes in the Rainbow, amidst the artists and musicians, Gwyn had felt herself breathe easier. The sounds of singing came through a dozen different windows, the music intertwining into nothing but a pleasant cacophony, no power or command inside each note.

It had only taken an hour to find an available apartment, rebuilt after Hybern’s attack, above a bookstore filled with glossy volumes filled with paintings and engravings, each book worth half the gold marks in Gwyn’s pocket. The owner, a stooped female with silver skin and pure white hair, seemed to have taken a liking to Gwyn right away, and as soon as she showed her the apartment, a small one-bedroom with wooden floors and walls painted a pale blue, with bookshelves built right in, Gwyn knew she wanted it.

She sleeps on the floor that first night, nestled in her coat, but though she spends the first few hours of darkness starting at every unfamiliar noise, peering at the shadows, she does not wake until daylight streamed bright through the uncovered windows.

When she reports to the library, Nesta and Emerie are waiting. She had timed her arrival so that the morning’s training session would be in progress, but neither of them wears their Illyrian leathers. Instead, in addition to their sweaters and leggings, they’re wearing twin concerned expressions.

“Clotho would only tell us that you’re safe,” Nesta says, her words concerned and tender and, because it’s Nesta, just this side of angry. “What happened?”

“We’re furious with Azriel, obviously.” Emerie links her arm with Gwyn’s, her wings held wide, the first time Gwyn has ever seen them fully extended.

“I don’t--” she starts, and though she manages not to cry, she staggers toward them. The room around her swims.

Then Nesta and Emerie are holding her, walking her to one of the back rooms in the library where the priestesses can refresh themselves in the course of the day. They set her down on the couch, and Nesta brings her a glass of cool water.

They sit with her in silence until Gwyn is breathing normally, until she finishes the water, and then Emerie and Nesta each take one of her hands.

“Whatever happened,” Nesta says, “we believe you, Gwyn. We’ll do whatever you need.” Emerie dips her head on Gwyn’s shoulder, nodding, and maybe it’s because she feels so warm and cared-for that the story slips out of her. She tells them about the mission and her meetings with Azriel, her powers and her training with Rhys, their first kiss and what had happened over the week in Illyria. What happened in the cell with Merrill and Koschei.

She doesn’t tell them every detail, not the parts of the mission she’s sure are secret, and not about the ways she allowed herself to be touched, the way she touched Azriel, and she doesn’t say that the two of them are mates. Gwyn trusts her friends, but she’s still working these parts of her story out for herself. And she doesn’t mention any of the stories he’d told her, the ones she knows he’s hardly told anyone.

Still, when she’s finished, Emerie’s mouth is agape, and Nesta’s blue-gray eyes are lit with her fury.

“What do you need?” Her friends ask the question at the same time, their voices a near-harmony.

“I found an apartment,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “It’s empty. I can find furnishings, but--”

She’s interrupted by Nesta’s hand on her arm. Her friend looks like an ancient queen, her braid a coronet and every bit of her posture ready for battle.

“It will be ready for you by the time you’re done here. Just tell us where it is.”

“And you won’t tell--” She has said his name at least a dozen times when she told her friends the story of the past two weeks, and still she stumbles now, at the prospect of Azriel’s name. Because she can’t quite believe that she doesn’t want him in her home.

“Nobody knows unless you tell us specifically,” Emerie says. “We’ll even stand guard if you’d like.”

“That can’t be good for your wings.” Gwyn feels a bit of her usual grin returning.

“Anahit has given me a whole new list of stretches and strengthening exercises when I’m not attempting to get off the ground. She says that Cassian gave her a few ideas.” As soon as she says his name, Emerie looks at Gwyn, concern on her face.

“Cassian didn’t do anything. And anyway, I’ll have to go back to training.”

“We can train on our own,” Nesta says. “I’ll find a space for us.”

“Koschei still holds those women captive. I need to get them out.”

“Azriel has plenty of experience. He’ll be fine on his own.”

“He doesn’t have my powers.” She sucks in a breath. “And what is all this training for if we don’t do anything with it?”

Her friends are quiet for a moment.

Then Emerie rises, holding her hand out to Gwyn.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving the library,” she says, with her elegant bluntness.

“I can’t believe you’re seeing the Morrigan,” she responds, both because she needs a break from dwelling on all that’s changed in her life in the last few days, and because of the smile that unfurls across Emerie’s lips.

“It turns out she couldn’t resist a Valkyrie.”

They hug her tightly, and Gwyn heads for the shelves before she can watch them take the stairs that will lead them to the House of Wind. It will hurt her, not to follow them.

Still, she quickly loses herself in shelving the books, dropping her magic in favor of picking up each volume with her hands. When Roslin finds her, Gwyn’s arms are pleasantly sore and her mind is almost blank.

“It will be dark in an hour,” the priestess says. “Clotho asked me to find you so that you could walk home in time.”

“She also asked me to sing at the evening service.”

“She said you could start tomorrow.”

Gwyn doesn’t say that there is nothing more fearsome on the dark streets of Velaris than she herself could be. Instead, she thanks Ros, grabs her coat, and heads for her new little home.

The low sun gilds the streets of Velaris, and Gwyn finds herself forgetting her circumstances as she takes in the details of the city, the shops and the solstice decorations and the merry conversations on the street. In place of her singing at the evening service, she hums a little solstice melody to herself, letting just a trickle of her magic emerge. Enough to make everyone a little happier to celebrate the evening.

She arrives at her building just as the sun dips below the horizon, and Nesta and Emerie are waiting at the door.

“You waited for me?” Her voice squeaks a little too high, breaking with her emotion. Because she’d known that Nesta and Emerie were her friends, the sisters the Mother had blessed her with after Catrin could no longer be her best friend in this life, but she hadn’t fully realized that this would mean they’d spend the whole day in her apartment, awaiting her return.

“We didn’t know if you’d want to be alone, and Nesta here wanted to show off all our hard work.” Emerie nudges Nesta with her wing, and Nesta dutifully scowls, rubbing her arms.

“Cassian flew most of the furniture and books to Feyre’s studio, and then we moved it over.”

“He could have come here,” she says, thinking of her friends slipping in the snow, the places where Emerie’s wings are still healing.

“What’s all this training for if we don’t do anything with it?” When Nesta speaks, there is only kindness in her voice, and Gwyn cannot speak against the tears that rise in her eyes. Instead, she squeezes Nesta’s hand and lets herself be drawn into the apartment.

Nesta and Emerie have moved in the furniture from Gwyn’s bedroom in the House of Wind, arranging it across the sitting room and the bedroom so that her apartment looks spacious and inviting, with the addition of a royal blue velvet couch that Gwyn can’t resist running her fingers across. They tell her that the High Lady kept it in her studio, but refuse to offer any more details.

There are also a few extra bookshelves, already mostly filled with the books she’d piled in her room at the House and the towering stacks from her room in the library. There are blue and white rugs under the couch and under her bed, which is piled high with her pillows and quilts from the House.

All of her clothes, including the ones Nesta loaned her and the ones the House provided, are organized in the armoire. Her shoes are lined up in the bottom, freshly polished.

“How did you move this?” she asks, kicking the wooden piece.

“Your landlady helped a little,” Emerie says. “She’s stronger than she looks. And before you ask, we were the ones who bought the food in the kitchen. Don’t look too grateful. It would be worse for everyone if you starved.”

“I ate your food in Windhaven.” She does and does not want to think of it, that cozy sitting room, all of Azriel’s comfortable smiles, his shadows moving across her bare skin.

“In a thousand years, maybe I’ll collect on my favor. Or maybe you’ll be so grateful that you’ll make us something for dinner.”

Obligingly, Emerie’s stomach rumbles.

An hour later, they’re feasting on a simple dinner, drinking hot spiced cider that Gwyn is sure the House sent over, and they do not speak about anything of consequence until Nesta and Emerie reach for their coats.

“Cassian and Mor can know where I live,” she says. “And if the High Lord needs to know, for my training or the mission, that’s all right. Just not -- I’m not ready to see Azriel.” His name croaks out of her mouth.

“You won’t have to see him.” Nesta’s voice is fierce and her arms are tight around Gwyn with her parting hug.

When they leave, she walks the perimeter of the apartment, a reassurance that there are no lurking monsters. She wishes, just for a second, that there were a shadow or two, moving in and out of the corners, twining around her wrists or perching on her shoulders.

She forces herself to think of Merrill, to imagine her blank stare, her screams.

But there is a part of her that wonders if there were ever a way to save Merrill. If what Azriel did was necessary, even right.

The apartment is cozy and quiet, and her bed is soft, but it takes Gwyn hours to fall asleep.

After the third day Azriel does not show up at training, Cassian tracks him to Rosehall, throwing rocks at every window until Azriel is forced to winnow to the garden.

“You can tell me you were worried about your mother, but that only excuses so much,” his brother says, smiling but with real concern in his eyes. “You’re in deep shit, brother.”

Azriel’s sigh comes out almost a groan.

“Tell me what happened,” Cassian says, and though Azriel usually keeps at least half the truth from him, this time the whole story spills out, starting with Mor and Elain, the mission, when he realized they were mates. He leaves out her vulnerable moments, the things he’s sure Gwyn would prefer remain only between them, though he sees in his mind the look on her face, bare and luminous and gorgeous.

When he finishes, the sun is descending in the sky, the product of the short days before solstice, and he leads Cassian inside the house, both of them stomping snow off their boots.

“What do you think?” he asks when they’re settled in the smallest sitting room, mugs of spiced wine warming their hands.

“You fucked up royally.”

There’s no consolation in Cassian’s voice, no hint of a smile. Only this raw, scalding truth from a person who is never cruel. Azriel looks away from his brother, into the fire, until the light overwhelms his vision.

“Then what do I do now.” He doesn’t bother to phrase it as a question. Because it seems to him there is nothing to do except live out his days apart from Gwyn, lurking in the shadows and causing harm.

“You were trying to save her, right? And Rhys needed you to get that information?” He hears Cassian turn toward him in his armchair, the sigh of his armor against the fabric.

“Beron is going to the continent imminently.”

“That’s why Eris was at the river house.”

“You saw him?”

“Rhys had Nesta and I attend. She keeps the bastard on his toes. But he seemed a little too pleased with himself. Likely he thinks Koschei will kill off his father for him.”

“What could Beron be getting from him?” It’s a distraction, he knows, from the matter at hand, but it’s comforting to slip into the old considerations. But Cassian humors him, sipping his wine and giving a sigh before he imparts his perspective.

“You know as well as I do that these High Lords all want the same things. Koschei likely made him an extravagant promise of territory.”

“You think he’ll claim the Spring Court?”

“Frankly, I’m surprised Beron hasn’t tried already, alliance or no. I’m surprised Tarquin hasn’t attempted it, either.”

“Tarquin is too high-minded and values his neutrality.” Though Azriel has pressed his contacts in the Summer Court, over and over, for any sign of a break. Idealism can be broken quicker than most people suspect, and despite the blows from Hybern and the years Under the Mountain, Tarquin is still largely untested.

“More for Beron, then. I know that Rhys has faith in Eris, but I can’t help feeling that he’s going to sit back and let his father conquer these lands, and then kill him when all the messy business is over.”

“I wish we could wipe them off the map,” Azriel says, and Cassian turns to him, eyebrows raised at the venom in his voice. “Let Lucien Vanserra have the Autumn Court.”

“You were the one who told me about the old rumors.” That the Lady of Autumn took a lover in the years before her youngest son was born, that his true powers are hidden behind a clever glamour.

“Would a bastard High Lord truly be worse than Eris?”

For a moment, he thinks that Cassian is considering the question, and then he says, “You’re going to need to have to come up with one hell of an apology, Az. And it’s Gwyn, so you’re also going to need a detailed explanation.”

“She was so close. Too close. We don’t know enough about Koschei’s power, but if you’d seen the strength he gave Merrill, enough to tear through steel. She was seconds away from grabbing Gwyn and winnowing her to that fucking lake with all his other captives. And if she’d stayed… her power might have been enough to scare Koschei, to force the answers out of Merrill, but it flickered out.” His shadows had stopped singing. They’d said something to her, something Azriel did not understand, and her whole posture had changed. The next time she’d looked at him, there was wrath in her eyes.

“How is Merrill?”

“She’s under Madja’s care. I don’t think it’s promising.”

Azriel had been ready to torture Merrill for what had happened to Gwyn. He’d decided exactly how much pain she would feel, and when, but he’d only made three shallow cuts on her fingers before she’d started talking, flailing her hands so that the blood spattered everywhere. Wouldn’t he like to know about the boxes? The question had appeared to him to be a taunt, but he’d noticed the fear in her eyes, the plural. He’d asked if there were other boxes, and in the middle of her answer, before the syllable became recognizable, her eyes had rolled up inside her head. He’d never spent much time with the priestess, but the peaceful smile on her face had been so unlike her usual expression that he’d known it was a mockery sent by Koschei. Still, he’d tried to revive her for nearly an hour, had consulted the healers employed in the Hewn City, before he’d given up and winnowed the priestess to Madja.

Before escaping to Rosehall, he’d passed the tip on to Rhys, along with curt report, not staying long enough for his brother to ask any other questions.

“Gwyn has left the House and apparently the library as well. She hasn’t shown up at training, if that’s why you’re avoiding it. But Nesta says she’s planning on returning. That she wants to complete this mission.”

“I’m not going to let her die for this. Let Beron take the Spring Court.”

“You’re not worried she’ll die if you try and force her out of this? Nesta had to knock her out cold to keep Gwyn from dying for her during the Blood Rite. Koschei is looking for her, brother. He might be down one set of eyes, but he’ll find another.”

“Gwyn could handle Vassa.” He knows it’s ridiculous, to think that Koschei will not escalate, but still he’s clung to the idea that if he defended her enough, the death-god would see him as the threat, not Gwyn.

“Start crafting your apology, Az. And maybe throw in a little poetry.”

Maybe the Mother doesn’t feel she has burdened Azriel enough in this life, because at this point, Cassian settles into his wine and starts composing the love poems he believes Azriel should offer Gwyn by way of apology. Eventually they are so ridiculous, so poorly crafted, that Azriel finds himself laughing.

His mother comes running from her rooms, a robe hastily pulled over her nightgown, sure that something is amiss, and she only looks afraid of Cassian for a second before she settles herself on the arm of the couch. Of course, Cassian thinks that this is his cue to tell her that her son has found his mate, and then ask her which of his terrible love poems would be most appropriate.

By some miracle, his mother is not frightened, but carefully considers each poem before diplomatically selecting the third option, where at least everything rhymes.

“Tell me about your mate,” his mother says, turning towards Azriel as Cassian smirks over her head.

“I think she’ll reject the bond,” he says, knowing it will wipe the expectant smile from her face, the smile that, after everything, seems like such a miracle.

But his mother’s smile does not fade as she says, “I doubt that,” and though she is tiny compared to him, her body still bearing the remnants of a century of his father’s torture, she pulls his head onto her shoulder and runs her hand down his back. Azriel is a warrior, the spymaster of the Night Court, and Cassian is surely watching this and preparing ways to mock him, but even still he lets himself relax into his mother’s arms, lets himself believe her.

Notes: There's a particular sweetness to friends who are there for you after a bad breakup, whether they're giving you the tough love you need or declaring themselves squarely on "Team You", and I wanted to capture that here. And I'm always happy to write Clotho. I love how much she loves Gwyn.

I felt like it was important to keep Gwyn and Azriel apart. I feel really strongly about the way that our romantic relationships can transform us for the better (my husband has helped me become so much more confident and so much less socially awkward; he might be a wizard). However, I think that this still requires a certain degree of independent work and being in a headspace where you can call the other person out. Gwyn has never lived alone, and Azriel has a history of hyperfocusing on his lady loves, and they both messed up and hurt each other in the previous chapter, Azriel particularly. So as much as they want to be together, as much as I think they belong together, they're going to have some time apart to work on things. In the meantime, at least we have the Valkyries and two-thirds of the bat boys to tide us over -- with more on that other third to come soon.

Also, hello Azriel's mother! I promise, you will find out her name in the future.

Anyway, enough of my rambling! Thank you so much for reading, for all of your comments (sorry again for any emotional damages I caused last chapter!) and for all of your encouragement and support. It truly means the world to me 🧡

For more theories, thoughts, and occasional sneak peeks, follow me on Instagram at house.of.hurricane or TikTok at houseofhurricane.

Taglist: @almosttenaciousmoon @azrielbedara @azrielsdarling13 @books0lover @brown-and-weird @camreadsum @cozycomfyliving08 @drinkbleach0 @gellybeangoogle @girlbossenergy @glemiessa @gwynrielsupremacy @hlizr50 @imsointobooks @katekatpattywack @lightwood-bane13 @livelyblu @lola-lightwood @meher-sumedha @moonbeammadness @mystical-blaise @nansr @nervousninjasuit @onemorenightdreamer @rubyriveraqueen @ruthieluvsbooks @sanniegirl1214 @saramoonbeam @secretlovelybeauty @shisingh @soffiiione @thenerdywriter @the-stars-eternal @trashforazriel @valkyriesbooks @vassien-supremacy6 @vikingmagic33 @whoever-you-choose-to-love @witching-by-the-willow @zanywolffriendhairdo

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thedeadhandofseldon · 3 years

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The Anti-Mercer Effect

On the Accessibility of D&D, Why Unprepared Casters is so Fun, and Why Haley Whipjack is possibly the greatest DM of our generation.

(Apologies to my mutuals who aren’t in this fandom for the length of this, but as you all know I have never in my life shut up about anything so… we’ll call it even for the number of posts about Destiel I see every day.

To fellow UC fans - I haven’t listened to arc 4 yet, I started drafting this in early August, and I promise I will write a nice post about how great Gus the Bard is once I get the chance to listen to more of his DMing).

Structure - Or, “This is not the finale, there will be more podding cast”

So, first of all, let’s just talk about how Unprepared Casters works. Because it’s kind of unusual! Most of the other big-name D&D podcasts favor this long, grand arcs; UC has about 10 hours of podcast per each arc. And that’s a major strength in a lot of ways: it makes it really accessible to new listeners, because you can just start with the current arc and understand what’s going on!

And by starting new arcs every six or seven episodes, they can explore lots of ways to play D&D! Classic dungeon delve arc! Heist arc! Epic heroes save the world arc! Sportsball arc! They can touch on all sorts of things!

And while I’m talking about that: Dragons in Dungeons, the first arc, makes it incredibly accessible as a show - because it lets the unfamiliar listener get a sense of what D&D actually is. (It’s about telling stories and making your friends feel heroic and laugh and cry, for the record). If I had to pick a way to introduce someone to the game without actually playing it with them, that arc would definitely be it.

And I’d be remise not to note one very important thing: Haley Whipjack and Gus the Bard are just very funny, very charismatic people. Look. Episode 0s tend to be about 50%(?) those two just talking to each other about their own podcast. It shouldn’t work. And yet it DOES, its one of my favorite parts, because Haley and Gus are just cool.

And a side note that doesn’t fit anywhere else: I throw my soul at him! I throw a scone at him - that’s it, that’s the vibe. The whole podcast alternates between laughing with your friends and brooding alone in a dark tavern corner - but the laughs never forced and the dark corner is never too dark for too long.

Whipjack the Great - Or, the DM is Also a Player!

I think Haley Whipjack is one of the greatest Dungeon Masters alive. The plots and characters! The mechanical shenanigans! The descriptions!

Actually, let’s start there: with the descriptions. (Both Haley and Gus do this really fucking well). As we know, Episode 0 of each arc sees the DM reading a description - of a small town, or the Up North, or the recent history of a great party. And Haley always strikes this tricky balance - one I think a lot of us who DM struggle with - between giving too much description and worldbuilding, and not telling us anything at all. She describes people and events in just enough detail to imagine them, but never so much they seem static and unreal - just clear enough to envision, but with enough vagueness left to let your imagination begin to run wild.

While I’m thinking about arc 3’s party, let’s talk about a really bold move she made in that arc: letting the players have ongoing control of their history. Loser Lars! She didn’t try to spell out every detail of this high-level party’s history, or restrict their past to only what she decided to allow - she gave them the broad outlines, and let them embellish it. And that made for a much more alive story than any attempt to create it by herself would have - but I think it takes a lot of courage to let your players have that agency. Most Dungeon Masters (myself included) tend to struggle with being control freaks.

And the plots! Yeah, arc one is built of classic tropes - but she actually uses them, she doesn’t get caught up in subverting everything or laughing at the cliches. And it’s fun! In arc 3, there really isn’t a straight line for the players to follow, either - which makes the game much more interesting and much trickier to run. And her NPCs are fantastic and I will talk about them in the next section.

Above all, though, I think what is really impressive is how Haley balances mechanics, and rules as written, with the narrative and rule of cool - and puts both rules and story in the service of playing a fun game. And the secret to that? She’s the DM, but the DM is a player, and the DM is clearly having fun. Hope Lovejoy mechanically shouldn’t get that spellslot back, but she does, and it’s fun. The changeling merchant in Thymore doesn’t really make some Grand Artistic Narrative better, but wow is it fun. And she never tries to force it one way or the other - the story might be more dramatic if Annie didn’t manage to banish the demon from the vault, but it’s a lot cooler and a lot more fun for the players if Annie gets to be a badass instead - and the rules and the dice say that Annie managed it.

Settings feel like places, NPCs feel like people, and the narrative plot feels like a real villainous plot.

Anyway. I could go on about the various ways in which Whipjack is awesome for quite a while - she’s right, first place in D&D is when your friends laugh and super first place is when they cry - but I’m going to stop here and just. Make another post about it some other time. For now, for the record I hold her opinions about the game in higher esteem than I do several official sourcebooks; that is all.

Characters - Or, Bombyx Mori Is Not an Asshole, And That Matters

Okay, I said I would talk about characters! And I will!

Just a general place to start: the party! All of the first three parties are interesting to me, because they all care about each other. Not even necessarily in a Found Family Trope sort of way, though often that too. But they generally aren’t assholes to each other. The players create characters that actually work together, that are interesting; even when there’s internal divisions like SK-73 v. Sir Mr. Person, they aren’t just unpleasant and antagonistic all the time. Listening to the podcast, we’re “with” these people for a couple hours - and it isn’t unpleasant. That matters a lot. (To take a counter-example: I love Critical Role, but the episode when Vox Machina pranked Scanlan after he died and was resurrected wasn’t fun to listen to, it was just uncomfortable and angering and vaguely cruel).

All of the PCs are amazing, and the players in each arc did a great job. If you disagree with me about that, well, you have the right to be incorrect and I am sorry for your loss. Annie Wintersummer, for one example: tragic and sad and I want to give her a hug, but also Fuck Yeah Wintersummer, and also her familiar Charles the Owl is the cutest and funniest and I love him. And we understand what’s going on with Annie, she isn’t some infinite pool of hidden depths because this arc is 7 episodes and we don’t have time for that, but she also has enough complexity to be interesting. Same with Fey Moss: yeah, a lot of her is a silly pun about fame that carries into how she behaves, but a lot of how she behaves is also down to some good classic half-elven angst about parenthood and wanting to be known and seen and important. (Side note: if your half-elf character doesn’t have angst, well, that’s impressive and also I don’t think I believe you).

There are multiple lesbian cat-people in a 4-person party and they both have requited romantic interests who aren’t each other. This is the future liberals want and I am glad for it.

Sir Mister Person, the human fighter! Thavius, the edge lord! Even when a character is “simple,” they’re interesting, because of how they’re played as people and not action-figures. And that matters a lot.

In the same way: the NPCs. There really aren’t a lot of them! And some of them come from Patreon submissions, so uh good work gang, you’re part of the awesomeness and I’m proud of you! The point being, the NPCs work because enough of them are interesting to matter. It’s not just a servant who opens Count Michael’s door, it’s a character with a name (Oleandra!) and a personality and history. They’re interesting. Penny Lovejoy didn’t need to be interesting, the merchant outside the Laughing Mausoleum didn’t need to be interesting, but they ARE! And Haley and Gus EXCEL at making the NPCs matter, not just to the story but to us as viewers. I agree with Sir Mister Person, actually, I would die for the princesses of the kingdom. I actually care about Gem Lovejoy of all people - that wouldn’t happen in an ordinary campaign! That’s the thing that makes Unprepared Casters spectacular - and, frankly, it’s especially impressive because D&D does not tend to be good at making a lot of interesting compared to a lot of other sorts of stories.

And, just as an exemplar of all this: Bombyx Mori. Immortal, reincarnating(?), and described as the incarnation of the player’s ADHD. I expected to hate Bombyx, because as the mom friend both in and out of my friend-group’s campaigns, the chaos-causer is always exhausting to me. And yeah, Bombyx causes problems on purpose! But! She is not an asshole.

And that’s important. Bombyx goes and sits with the queen and comforts her. Bombyx gives Annie emotional support. Bombyx isn’t just a vehicle to jerk around the DM and other players; Bombyx really is a character we can care about. To compare with another case - in the first couple episodes of The Adventure Zone, the PCs are just dicks. Funny, but dicks. Bombyx holds out an arm “covered in larva” to shake with a count, and robs him of magical items, but she also cares about her friends and other people! She uses a powerful magical gem to save her fertilizer guy from death! Yeah, Bombyx is ridiculous, but she’s not just an asshole the party has to keep around for plot reasons; you can see why her party would keep her around. And one layer of meta up, she’s the perfect example of how to make a chaotic character like that while still being fun for everyone you’re playing with, which is often not the case. And I love her.

The Anti-Mercer Effect - Or, “I think we proved it can be fun, you can have a good time with your friends. And it doesn’t have to be scary, you can just work with what you know”

The Mercer Effect basically constitutes this: Matthew Mercer, Dungeon Master of Critical Role, is incredible (as are all of his players). They’re all professional story-tellers in a way, remember, and so Critical Role treats D&D like a narrative art-form, and it’s inspiring. Seeing that on Critical Role sets impossible standards - and people go into their own home games imagining that their campaigns will be like Critical Role, and the burden of that expectation tends to fall disproportionately on the DM. And the end result, I think, of the Mercer Effect is that we get discouraged or intimidated, because our game isn’t “as good as” theirs. (And I should note - Matt certainly doesn’t want that to be our reaction).

So the Anti-Mercer Effect is two things: it’s D&D treated like a game, and it’s inspiring but not intimidating. And Unprepared Casters manages both of those really freaking well. Because they play it like a game! A UC arc looks just like a good campaign in anyone’s home game. They have the vibes of 20-somethings and college students playing D&D for fun because that’s who they are (as a 20-something college student who plays a lot of D&D, watching it felt like watching my friends play an especially good campaign). They’re trying to tell a good story, sure, and they always do. But first and foremost, they’re trying to have fun, and it shows, and I love the UC cast for it.

And that’s the other half of it: it’s inspiring! It’s approachable; you can see that Haley and Gus put plenty of work into preparing the game but it also doesn’t make you feel like you need hundreds of pages of worldbuilding to run a game. Sometimes a cleric makes Haley cry and she gives them back a spell-slot from their deity! That’s fantastic! It’s just inspiring - listening to this over the summer, when my last campaign had fallen apart under the strain of graduation, is why I decided to plan and run my new one!

That quote from Haley Whipjack that I used as the title for this section? That’s the whole core of this idea, and really, I think, the core of the podcast.

The Mercer Effect is when you go “that’s really cool, I could never do that.” But Unprepared Casters makes you look at D&D and go “wow, that looks really fun. I bet I can do that!” And I love the show for it.

And I bet a lot of you do too.

#unprepared casters #bombyx mori #haley whipjack #long post #this is really rough but I don't have time to keep working on it and it's already a month later than intended

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aphrostarot · 3 years

Text

Who Are You Pick a Pile

How are you seen by your friends, family, you, and society? How do you want to be seen and who are you actually?

Remember that this is a general reading and some things may not apply to you. Do not try and force it to fit. If you would like a personal reading you can click here. There I have my shop where I offer all of my readings. Or you can dm me with what you'd like.

*Please read before you pick a pile*

I say spirit when I am channeling and writing out your readings, if you do not believe in spirit that is totally okay, this message is still meant for you if you feel that it is! Whatever you believe in is valid and you can ignore when I say spirit if you don't believe in it or, replace it with whoever you believe is giving you this message. If you have any questions or you just want to talk about this feel free to dm me!

Pile One (Rose Quartz):

How do your friends see you?

Three of Wands: In this specific deck the three of wands is depicted as a long journey ahead, one that you are just starting. That being said, this would mean that your friends see you as someone who is starting a journey, maybe of self-discovery, a career journey, spiritual journey, etc. Your friends see you as someone strong, knows what they want, and is driven to get that.

The Avenger: The Avenger is made, not born. Her state of mind evolved from a primal desire for vengeance - and she has the drive to carry it out by whatever means necessary. The Avenger is distinguished by her ability to weaponize her innate knowledge and her surroundings and forgoes other elements of her personality until justice is served. In revenge films, the Avenger functions as karma personified - and her payback is defined by its symbolic, poetic flourish. Your friends think you’re strong and that you are someone who has fought to become who they are and will continue to fight until they become who they want to be.

How does your family see you?

Five of Pentacles: This card represents poverty, a great loss. Your family sees you as someone who has lost a lot and is currently in a dark place, in a low. They think that you are going through a tough time. You have lost a lot and that you need help.

The Goth: The Goth lives in a romantic world of horror and death. In genre fiction, the Goth often finds herself as the keeper of a mystical secret, an explorer of unholy ground, or an unknowing link to the realm of the dead. She often makes her home in a remote, decaying property, and her solitude allows for her to fully embrace every instance of terror. While the Goth’s inquisitive nature and innate resolve allow her to stand up against corrupt forces, both human and supernatural, she may also allow herself to be seduced by dark passions. This is how your family sees you, as someone who has accepted the darkness and is not willing to come out. They also see you as someone who wants to go against the grain and does their own thing.

How do you see you?

The Sun: Happiness is the meaning of this card. You see yourself as someone who is happy, successful, optimistic, and confident. You feel like you have this warm energy surrounding you, yellow may resonate with you. You feel like you are a light in a lot of people’s lives like you are the person people go to when they need someone to brighten their mood.

Two of Pentacles: The primary meaning of this card is, balance and all things that come with it such as; adaption, flexibility, and resourcefulness. Again, you view yourself as someone who is resourceful, the person that others go to when they need help. You feel as though you have your life in check, you know what you want and how you’re going to get it. You feel like you are good at balancing things and keeping everything in order.

The Muse: The Muse speaks to the soul. In fiction, the Muse is a woman who embodies the spirit of a particular moment so much that she’s upheld as an inspiration. While the Muse may be kept as a source of personal inspiration for an artist, her life is an artistic expression in itself. She may exude an attitude, philosophy, or appearance that makes her emblematic of lifelong creative or romantic partnerships. Even if her je ne sais quoi is short-lived, her impact can be crystallized forever. You think you are the person who is an inspiration to the people around you, that people center their lives and pursuits off of what you have done and continue to do.

How does society see you?

Seven of Pentacles: This is the card of growth, of hard work paying off after some planning. Society sees you as someone who has gone through a lot and has grown from that, that you’ve planned the way you want your life to go and that you execute those plans. You do everything you need to in order to get to where you want to be.

The Spinster: The Spinster is unbothered. In romance fiction, the Spinster is a woman who has remained single past the age deemed desirable, and as such is typically childless. The Spinster’s isolation from traditional domestic roles of wife and mother makes her solitary life a source of speculation and projected anxiety. The Spinster is generally used to caution young women against the dead-end of an unmarried life, and her solitude is seen as a consequence of curdled femininity. Whether by choice or not, the Spinster has the ability to rely solely on herself. Society views you as an independent person, someone who doesn’t need anyone, someone who chooses to be single because they don’t need anyone other than themselves to make them happy.

How do you want to be seen?

The Hermit: This is the card of solitude, of self-reflection. Meaning, you want to be seen as someone who is independent, working on themselves, and growing. You may like the idea of people viewing you as a hard-working self-indulgent person, a person who keeps to themselves and has persevered through everything thrown their way. Someone who makes their life work and has gotten what they want because they worked for it.

The Earth Mother: The Earth Mother is in sync with her environment. In genre film, the Earth Mother represents a connection to the terrestrial, often by rejecting modernity and embracing life in nature. She may present as a hippie who prioritizes the health of the environment, or as the maternal figure in a commune, offering motherly guidance to those seeking a more pastoral life. She may also be upheld as a symbol of growth, harvest, or fertility, and possess a mystical connection to the secrets of the natural world. You very much may want to be seen as someone with cottage core energy.

Who are you actually?

Nine of Wands: You are someone who has a lot of emotional baggage from your upbringing or previous relationships. This makes you a people-pleaser who wants others to like you because, deep down, you feel unworthy. Therefore, you’re the type of person who others walk over and take advantage of. On the opposite end of the scale, you could be unwilling to let anyone into your inner circle. You do not trust easily and are suspicious of others. The Nine of Wands, however, is a sign that your mistrust may be justified, which is a positive aspect of the card; you’re not quick to let just anyone into your life.

The Maid: The Maid sees everything and tells nothing. In pulp fiction, the Maid is typically a meek domestic worker who peers into the daily intrigues of the family she’s working for. Be it excessive consumption, familial corruption, or adulterous affairs, the Maid is expected to sweep the scandals of the every day up and out of sight. Due to her exclusive access to people’s lives, she may often palsy as a star witness in a trial, or get caught up in a blackmail scheme. But the Maid typically represents some form of class repression or exploitation - until she gets the chance to turn the tables. You have been on the underside of life for a long time, that doesn’t mean you will always be that way, you can turn the tables after a bit of work

Pile Two (Sodalite):

How do your friends see you?

Page of Pentacles (reversed): The Page of Pentacles reversed represents someone who is; foolish, immature, irresponsible, lazy, an underachiever, and a procrastinator. This is how your friends see you as someone who is not reliable and is childish.

The Cyborg: The Cyborg is a transgressive blend of human and machine. In science fiction, the organic, human form can be supplemented with technological enhancement. As such, the Cyborg has the capacity for mechanical perfection, working in tandem with human thought, emotion, and values. While often a figure of fear for their ability to rewrite and surpass human flaws. The Cyborg may use their abilities for destruction, but can also offer a glimpse into a perfected human being who is able to transcend human history and work towards utopic harmony. Your friends see you as someone who needs an upgrade. Someone who needs to change so they can be like the cyborg, able to use their powers to bring about harmony or destruction.

How does your family see you?

Seven of Swords (reversed): This is the card of truth being revealed, of having been manipulative in the past and now coming out and revealing that truth. So, your family sees you as someone who has something to reveal, something that you have been hiding from them.

The Headmistress: The Headmistress rules with an iron fist. In fiction, the Headmistress is responsible for overseeing the entirety of a school, typically one for girls or young women, and for managing its students, staff, and grounds. While the Headmistress is typically a strict disciplinarian with an eye for getting results, she can also function as a maternal, albeit authoritative presence. Her reputation often precedes her, and being summoned into her office is enough to strike fear into the heart of any student. Your family views you as someone who is to be feared, someone who does whatever it takes to be heard and in control.

How do you see you?

Seven of Wands: You see yourself as someone who needs to stand up for yourself no matter what, defend yourself and your territory. You may have gone through a lot to get to where you are and you don’t what to lose it. You feel like people are constantly trying to question you and bring you down, so, you defend yourself.

The Empress: You view yourself as the Divine Feminine, as someone who embraces all things feminine. You think you are someone who is loving, warm, sensual, and that you are as charismatic as you are beautiful. You defend yourself because people don’t understand the real you, in your eyes.

The Siren: The Siren’s call is irresistible. In horror and mythology, the Siren is a beautiful amphibious creature who appears as a human woman or a human and animal hybrid. The Siren typically lives with others of her kind in the rocks and cliffs of coastal areas. Together, the Sirens use their powerful voices to lure passing sailors towards shipwreck and death. While the origins and goals of the Siren vary, she is ultimately symbolic of the challenge of resistance. You feel like you are irresistible, that you are someone that nobody can resist.

How does society see you? The Magician: The Magician is someone who is; spontaneous, skillful, creative, original, someone of quick understanding, excellent reasoning, intelligent initiatives, and intellectual curiosity. This is how society views you, as someone who is extremely intelligent, someone who uses their brain and is quick with it.

The Gamine: The Gamine strolls the side streets straight into your heart. In genre film and musicals, the Gamine appears as a young, often waifish woman with a penchant for androgynous style and frank speech. Her rejection of what’s ascribed as feminine is characterized by her embrace of the masculine, opting for a short chop or pixie cut and boxy clothes, and presenting a boyish, unpolished demeanor. The Gamine may pursue an independent, bohemian lifestyle in defiance of gender expectations, but is too charming to thwart off attention from suitors from all walks of life.

How do you want to be seen?

Queen of Swords: The Queen of Swords has very high standards and can be highly critical of herself and others, she doesn’t allow anyone to use her, she puts people in their place. You want to be seen as someone who stands up for themselves and is loved but slightly feared. You want people to understand where they stand with you and to not test you or cross you.

The Coquette: Flattery has gotten the Coquette everywhere, and she has no plans to stop now. In genre film or musicals, the Coquette has a way with words and a knack for reading people - particularly people who have something she wants. She can be an adept conversationalist or an emotional card sharp, but she’ll make you feel so good about yourself you won’t even miss whatever it is you’ve handed over. You want to be seen as someone who is charming, a little intimidating but still, charming. You want people to fear you but also love you.

Who are you actually?

Ace of Pentacles: You are or are meant to be very clever and full of ideas. You are very innovative and clever and you do best with intellectual activities. You use the power of your mind to achieve what you want and need. You will apply reason and intellect to confront issues occurring in your life. You have great literacy skills and rarely lose an argument or discussion. You are someone who is very competitive and will not let go of your position easily. You love taking risks. You usually become an expert in any field you work in. A part of you is very restless and you need to be constantly stimulated. Sometimes you get lost in your head and need to be grounded. It is worth mentioning that the Ace of Pentacles represents new money coming forward, so, it is worth saying that you may be meant to make money in some way.

The Diva: The Diva has a gift from heaven that can make your life hell. In genre film, the Diva is a commanding artistic presence with an impossibly unique talent. The Diva is highly sought after and showered with praise but can become indignant and fickle when she’s not in total control of her ability. She may demand that conditions be met perfectly in order for her to perform, and storm out if she’s denied. Ultimately, the Diva needs her talent to shine just as much as the people around her, and she will do what is necessary to stay in the spotlight. You are meant to be in the spotlight, whether that be literally famous or just in the spotlight in your personal surroundings.

Pile Three (Fuchsite):

How do your friends see you?

Ten of Wands (reversed): The Ten of Wands reversed represents that your friends see you as someone who is truly burdened by circumstances that are not necessary in your life. They think that you are shouldering too much responsibility, that you fail to delegate because you may fear asking for help or you truly believe that you are capable of handling it all on your own. They think that if you continue to go on this way, you will reach a breakdown.

Six of Pentacles (reversed): The Six of Pentacles reversed means that your friends think that you are someone who is extremely generous, to your own faults. You give too much, more than you are capable of giving. They think that you are extremely nice and caring but that you need to take care of yourself. This could also mean that they think that you are someone who gives but at a cost. That when you are “generous” it always comes with you expecting things in return. They think that you are selfish.

The Dancer: The Dancers body is their instrument. The Dancer presents a mastery of control over their physical movement and expression and is a subject of fascination across a variety of genres. In the psychological thriller, they may obsess over perfecting their performance to the point of mania; in horror, they may perform a physical expression of moral corruption; in erotica, they may move to seduce and entice. Regardless of their particular presentation, the Dancer commands attention through perseverance - their refinement of skill even if just performing for themselves. Your friends see you as someone who puts a lot of their body, as someone who works hard and doesn’t take care of themselves enough. They also see you as someone who is extremely talented at what they do regardless of whether they ask for help or not.

How does your family see you?

Seven of Swords: Your family thinks that you are sneaky, that you operate in the shadows and gather information that might later serve you. They think you may be planning to betray someone, or a group of people, in order to assure self-advancement.

On the other hand, they may think that you are trying to better your situation. They think that the people you surround yourself with may be causing you great misery, hindering your progress, or your road towards self-improvement. If that is the case, they feel that you need to escape your current situation without insulting or hurting the people around you.

The Avenger (reversed): The Avenger is made, not born. Her state of mind evolved from a primal desire for vengeance - and she has the drive to carry it out by whatever means necessary. The Avenger is distinguished by her ability to weaponize her innate knowledge and her surroundings and forgoes other elements of her personality until justice is served. In revenge films, the Avenger functions as karma personified - and her payback is defined by its symbolic, poetic flourish. When she is reversed though, that means that rather than being focused, of having the motivation to get things done, and of seeking justice you are; cruel, filled with rage, and obsessed with the wrong things. This is what they think of you. Going off of what was said above, your family thinks that your friends are doing this to you.

How do you see you?

Page of Cups: You see yourself as someone who is highly intuitive and sensitive to the entire world and various dimensions around you. You think you have a loving, gentle, and warm personality and a strong desire to be around kindred spirits, who help you to feel needed and special. You think you’re highly creative and emotional, that you can be as shy as you are desperate to avoid conflict. Although, you won’t back down from a fight if a fight is what’s called for.

The Spinster (reversed): The Spinster is unbothered. In romance fiction, the Spinster is a woman who has remained single past the age deemed desirable, and as such is typically childless. The Spinster’s isolation from traditional domestic roles of wife and mother makes her solitary life a source of speculation and projected anxiety. The Spinster is generally used to caution young women against the dead-end of an unmarried life, and her solitude is seen as a consequence of curdled femininity. Whether by choice or not, the Spinster has the ability to rely solely on herself. Now with this coming out reversed, instead of you thinking you’re like that you actually think you’re timid, full of fear, and in disarray. Yes, you think that you’re highly intuitive maybe even an empath but still, a part of you thinks that you are small and full of anxiety.

How does society see you?

Justice: Society sees you as a decent, law-abiding individual. They think you make decisions carefully, weighing all the pros and cons. That you are good with words and place a high value on education. Also that you are practical and cautious, but remain a romantic at heart.

Two of Cups: Society thinks you’re warm, loving, and sweet. That you are keen on building and maintaining strong, long-term relationships. That you will marry young and/or remain in a devoted relationship. They think that nurturing relationships are at the core of your belief system, they think you are a great friend, child, siblings, and lover. That you are a natural healer due to your ability to listen to your partners and give great advice in return.

The Cat Burglar: The Cat Burglar is at her best when you never see her at all. In genre fiction, the Cat Burglar has a knack for sneaking into places she’s not wanted and sneaking out with more than she had before. While she prefers to work in shadow, she’s also a master of disguise and can situate herself undetected in plain sight. She can also function as a lady thief, who only seeks impossibly difficult targets or the rarest of valuables, and seldom uses physical force in conquest. Society sees you as someone who is able to blend in wherever you go, but not because you are not noticed, it is your own choice. They see you as someone who is willing to do whatever it takes to get what you want.

How do you want to be seen?

The Hanged Man: You want to be seen as confident — perhaps overly so. This card can also represent indecision, and as such, you may be at risk of not recognizing these opportunities when they do come to you. Consequently, you remain forever in limbo, trapped in your indecision, your primary action being non-action. You want to be seen as the person who is extremely confident, not aware of the things around them, just happy with what they have, and happy to be where they are.

The Mystic: The Mystic is in touch with the divine. In fiction, the Mystic may appear as a visionary or prophet who receives messages from outside the earthly realm. She may also appear as a sorceress or alchemist who can manipulate natural materials for her own ends. In any iteration, she is well versed in esoteric interests and shrouded in mystery and can use her knowledge to better herself or provide guidance for others. You want to be seen as someone who can help others and who has abilities.

Who are you actually?

Queen of Wands: You are meant to be passionate and ambitious. You are meant to be quite extroverted, with a radiant and friendly quality about you. At your core, you are a highly social creature, with a natural tendency to spread happiness and joy.

You also have a high sense of self-worth and will not let others belittle you. You aspire to be successful on a professional level — and almost always attain it

The Cyborg: The Cyborg is a transgressive blend of human and machine. In science fiction, the organic, human form can be supplemented with technological enhancement. As such, the Cyborg has the capacity for mechanical perfection, working in tandem with human thought, emotion, and values. While often a figure of fear for their ability to rewrite and surpass human flaws. The Cyborg may use their abilities for destruction, but can also offer a glimpse into a perfected human being who is able to transcend human history and work towards utopic harmony. You are meant to use your abilities of spreading happiness and joy for the greater good.

#tarot #oracle #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot cards #oracle cards #spirituality #astrology #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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unholyhelbig · 3 years

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Artifice | Chapter 10: The Escape

For previous chapters, click here | To Read on A03, Click here

The leather was cool under Beca’s fingertips. It smelled of oil paints, and clove, and the faintest bit of smoke. There was salt and sun all at once. She had carried the bag everywhere with her, strung against her shoulder. There were only ever a few cotton shirts, and pants that were worth well with dirt and blood.

She kept her sketchbook, bound in the equally fine leather, close to her heart. A small section of charcoal was folded into a cloth. It was hard to come by, nearly impossible, but Beca knew the right people. Emily Junk knew the right people. She pulled strings for fine clay and even finer parchment.

They were simple gifts, but intricate. When Beca’s stomach was rolling and the ship rocked steadily against black waves, she would sit and sketch Emily, focused so fully on the maps, the charting, and the stars that they followed. Moonlight would dance across her features in pale magnificence.

She kept the sketchbook, the one that reminded her of the ocean before she met Christian and felt the sting of his open palm against her cheek, at the bottom of the bag, away from Chloe, and Aubrey, and Garrett, and the rest of the prying eyes of the world. It was her solace. It made her sick to her stomach.

Beca peeled the bag open. She didn’t’ care much for folding the clothes that she had strewn across the room in her time at the Beale Estate. They had fit just fine when they were pressed and smelling of fresh linen, they would fit just fine now.

Sadness pricked at the back of her eyes. She thought of betraying her own unspoken rules as an artist and tearing the cleanest page from her sketchbook out. She would scrawl a note in charcoal on the back, dirtying the pads of her fingertips and forgetting herself fully.

Unlike her first night here, she could navigate the hallways that were meant for staff with her eyes closed. Stacie had pressed the lanterns hours before Beca returned from the pub. The wax had hardened and the scent of ash hung stubbornly in the air.

Moonlight flitted through the kitchen. She figured she could slip through the back doors into the warmth of the night without anyone missing her too much. Her throat stung with two mugs of brew she had downed to quell her emotions at the pub. It spurred her on, told her to press forward.

Forget the commission, forget the billionaire that had wronged the seven seas, forget his siren wife with hot copper ringlets, and fair lambskin.

“You’re leaving without saying goodbye.”

The statement had no infliction behind it. Beca felt her heart in her throat and her fingers numb against the strap of her leather bag. She hadn’t moved yet, hadn’t gotten past the threshold of the patio door. She hadn’t estimated how long she stood there, counting the blades of grass, but the voice startled her.

“I have to go,” Beca said.

She turned to face Aubrey Posen. A tin mug with water rested at her side, half consumed. The blonde may have watched her as she watched the world, those cold apple-green eyes. They gave her away as human instead of an animal, focused instead of sure.

A silk robe covered her shoulders, the lavender material rich, and rarely seen by someone of her caliber. The whole estate was like that, fancy vases and sculptures, and iron workings that Beca had seen from the outside, looking in, but never the other way around.

“You’re a coward.”

She scoffed “A coward? No soy un cobarde.”

Even as she said it, she knew she was wrong. Someone who didn’t’ shy away from confrontation would have kneeled in front of the woman in the house by now- they would have told her about the band of looters, and pirates that intended on storming her personal palace.

Her face must have softened and given her away. Aubrey quirked an eyebrow, raising the mug to her lips before humming in satisfaction. It made Beca’s skin burn and her heart prickle.

“Leave, then. Making Chloe suffer by contemplating your own actions is doing more harm than good.”

Beca hated to swallow her words twice in one sitting but found herself taking the remaining three steps towards the kitchens island. Aubrey seemed to tense at the movement, dry-mouthed and thick with contempt.

“It’s for the better.”

“For you, or for her?” Aubrey lowered the mug and let out a sigh “Listen, you being here… has been good for Chloe. I thought you would be like them all, the artists. They waltz into the estate with their oils, and charcoals, and parchment, and think that they have the world at their fingertips. Instead of painting her, they use her. And she lets them.”

“I understand your hand over her, Aubrey,” Beca said.

“Hand over who?”

The two women glanced towards the opening to the kitchen. Chloe stood under the archway, her hair caught the moonlight like the rest of the kitchen, but in a deeper, cherry-colored way. She looked sleep-worn and content. That soon shifted against her features as she took in the leather satchel, the swept way Beca stared, and the fingerprints on the glass sliding door.

“You’re going,” She murmured.

The shatter of her words cut deep against Beca’s skin. She felt as if she might bleed there, bite her tongue until she swallowed mouthfuls of red. Her shoulders slumped, her resolve nearly broke. “I don’t have a choice.”

“A choice… Beca you’re here to paint. Have I scorned you that horribly with my antics that you’ve given up the fight?” She scoffed “I’ll ease on the chase. We can start tomorrow>”

She turned and glanced towards the backyard. The moonlit the path beautifully towards the ocean, and the docks, and the fire-filled lights that reflected off the waves. If she searched hard enough, she could see Emily’s ship, its red sails, and drafting architecture.

Aubrey scooped her mug up and was halfway out of the kitchen by the time Beca mustered up the courage to turn back to the woman. She hated the weight of the two of them this close to one another, standing off with nothing but a few inches between them.

“Garrett has wronged a very dangerous group of people,” Beca meant to sound powerful, strong, and sure of herself, but she wasn’t. There was a meekness to her words. “They’re planning to storm this place, to take back what is rightfully theirs.”

Chloe pursed her lips, frowning as she stared at the terracotta tiling. She had her own silk robe wrapped tersely around her, her blue eyes hard and unreadable. “My husband does not speak about his business and I am kind enough not to ask.”

“He’s robbing people, Chloe. Good innocent people.”

“Pirates.” She snapped back “the last I checked they’re the ones that pillage, and murder, and go entirely feral at the sight of a pint of ale. Garrett is doing this world well.”

“They do what they can to survive. I don’t expect you to understand.”

It came out harsher than intended. Chloe snapped her gaze up to the woman with such ferocity that it chilled her to her bones. She steadied her hand against the island, fingers white as they pressed into the countertop. “Excuse me?”

“Rich, and stubborn enough not to go with me if I asked you to.” Beca whispered, this time sure of herself “I know these people, grew up with them, love them. And they are more merciless than many. Yet you would stay to defend your home, your possessions. Your paintings.”

The words felt bitter against Beca’s tongue. As if her saliva had turned to acid. She would never speak out against the lady of a house, much less one that had offered to pay for her services. But Chloe’s world was sheltered, and it was close to crumbling.

“You never asked.” She snarled, taking another step forward, closing the gap between them. Beca could feel the anger rolling off her in waves. “You packed your things and were going to escape into the night.”

Her breath came out in a shudder, it pressed against Chloe’s collarbone, making goosebumps rise against her skin. Blue eyes flicked to her lips, to her jawline, and to her own chest heaving up and down. It would take nearly nothing to push forward and escape the space left between them.

She swallowed the hot taste in her mouth “Would you have gone?”

Chloe met her question with silence. Maybe the words were stuck in her throat, or maybe they had no place where they were to begin with. Beca frowned, fretted, and took a step back. Chloe could have held her there, tethered her to one spot. She had enough power to convince her to stand against Emily and her intent. But nothing was said. The silence dripped heavily between them.

“Give Garrett my apologies.” She said, “I pray he can find an artist to capture your likeness one day.”

Before the tears that were welling up in Chloe’s eyes could escape, Beca had turned, opened the patio door, and began to walk across the moonlit grass. There were clouds in the sky, prominent against the dark backdrop, covering the ball of light enough for her to slip through the trees that turned to swamp and swamp that stretched into an alcove.

Garrett had spared no expense, the jutting cliffs that dropped straight to the docs and choppy waves had a staircase carved into it. Metal for the same lanterns that lined the Beale estate was set up in sporadic intervals. Beca had trusted only her instinct and anger to get her down to the docks.

Emily’s ship sprouted with blue and amber lights. A man grizzled and half-drunk with the swells of the sea stood as Beca approached. He drew his sword with a slick sound of metal upon metal. The tip of the weapon found its home under her chin, close enough to slice the hair from her head.

“State your business.” He purred, lilting his head at his prize.

“Jasper,” Emily’s voice came from the deck of the ship. She leaned over the railing, having shed her leather coat, and her captain’s hat, simple and beautiful in the moonlight. The man never hesitated. “She’s fine. Come up,”

She adjusted the bag on her shoulder, running her finger over the raw spot against her throat. He could have easily sliced through the skin, could have made a meal of her before the night had even begun.

Beca scaled the rope ladder leading to the main deck of the ship. By the time she had reached the top Emily had a grin on her face, nothing short of pride and warmth. There was a subtle rocking beneath her feet that reminded her so fully of home.

“Do my eyes deceive me delicately?”

“They don’t,”

Emily furrowed her brow and lilted the woman’s head up with the curl of her finger, the opposite of the blade with her softness, and tender stare. “You’re sure about this? I can get you off the island.”

“I’ve already turned my back once tonight. No puedo hacerlo de nuevo. I wish to join you.”

The captain withdrew her touch, worry etched into her features, catching every spare light that the night sea had to offer. Her eyes flitted to the last remaining glow in the kitchen of the Beale Manor, entirely visible from the docks. Past the trees, and the hedges, and the swamps, she could have sworn she saw a woman, backed by a lantern, and forlorn with fear.

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Bechloe #Fanfiction #Historical au

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