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vgckwb · 3 years

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ML: Are They Worthy? Chapter 81: Of Monsters and Men!/Superbug (The Battle for Paris, Part 1)

A cloud of darkness had descended upon Paris. At the center of it was a being who was entirely purple, masculine, had wings, antennae, grizzly sharp teeth, and void pupil-less eyes. Their fingers were clawed. He looked around. He noticed that he was being filmed.

“Heh heh” he laughed. “Greetings Paris” he said to his audience. “I’ve been waiting for a long time. Watching. Doing nothing but observing without the power to do anything. But finally, I am free! And now I shall conquer.

Ah. Forgive my manners. My name is Nurushwa. I am a kwami. A kwami labeled evil by some. A label I don’t hate. I’ll be blunt with you all. I wish to take over, and once I do, I will free my captive brothers and sisters also deemed evil. This can be as painless or painful as necessary. I don’t mind either way, but my personal preference is painful.” Nurushwa laughed.

Meanwhile, all the heroes and Hawk Moth were watching this unfold on their devices. “Evil kwami?” Ladybug remarked.

She got a call and took it, while also keeping an eye on Nurushwa. It was Sting. “Ladybug! Web-Spinner and I are converging on your position! Have every hero do the same!”

“What’s going on?” Ladybug asked.

“That thing is an evil kwami!” Sting replied. “It’s apparently a powerful creature that’s been locked away for quite some time!”

“How did it get out?” Ladybug asked.

“It takes three things to unleash it!” Sting explained. “A close proximity to the area in which they are locked, an affinity to miraculous energy, and overwhelming negative emotion! Someone MUST have found them!”

“But who?” Ladybug asked.

Nurushwa was still laughing when he started gagging a little bit. Suddenly and viscerally out of his mouth pops the head and torso of Lila. She takes a few breaths. “Paris! I am sorry! I don’t deserve your kindness! I lied! About everything! Truly, I am a terrible person! But please! Stop this monster! And if you could find it in your heart! Save me as well!”

“Well that answers that” Ladybug said.

Nurushwa used one of his arms to push Lila back in. “A feisty one.” He turned his attention back to the cameras. “Enough dilly-dallying! Now my pretties, DESCEND!” The dark cloud broke up. It turns out, they were a cloud of akumas. They rapidly descended on the city, engulfing the citizenry one by one. However, instead of any unique villains, they turned into beings that looked similar to Nurushwa.

Meanwhile, Lila was inside Nurushwa, fearing for her life. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you everything you’ve wanted. Power. Friends. Control.”

“I don’t care about that anymore!” Lila said, sobbing.

“Oh, but it isn’t a choice,” Nurushwa told her. “There’s just one thing I’m asking in return.”

“What?!’ Lila hissed.

“Your humanity” Nurushwa answered.

Lila started to feel her body start to fade away. “What are you doing to me?!”

“Heh heh” Nurushwa laughed. “I’m simply turning you into one of us.” Lila was even more scared. “Ah. You have the soul of a fox kwami. Trickstern would love a new playmate.” He laughed as Lila was struggling while her body was slowly turning into a kwami like him.

Within a matter of minutes, all of the heroes had met up with Ladybug and everyone else. “What do we do?!” Honey Bee asked. “There’s a crazy, maniacal...thing, and it has Lila!”

“AND it’s taking the rest of the city” Chienne Reaction pointed out.

Hawk Moth turned to face Adrien. “Adrien! Get out of here! Go to our house! You should be safe!”

Adrien looked at Hawk Moth. He smiled and sighed. “Sorry, but I can’t.” Hawk Moth was confused. “Plagg! Claws out!” he turned into Cat Noir.

Hawk Moth was surprised. But he shook himself out of it. “We’ll talk about this later. Right now, we need to deal with Nurushwa!”

“So, you’re willing to help out old man?” Carapace asked.

Hawk Moth glared at him. “I’ll be the first to tell you that I’m no angel. But today, I’d like to be on their side. I’ll do anything I can to help.”

Ladybug looked up at Nurushwa. “Well, Sting said that they need a person. What if we try to free Lila from him?”

“It’s a good idea” Rooster Gold started.

Bleat Star came in. “But I don’t think he’d let us get close to him!”

“Even with all of us, he’s creating an army as we speak!” Hog Wild reminded her.

Ladybug thought. She looked at Chienne Reaction and Hawk Moth. “That’s it! We need to power up! Chienne Reaction! Power up Hawk Moth! Once he’s powered up, he can bestow more power unto us! Once we have that power, we could take the fight to him more easily!”

“Plus, we could save people, and have Hawk Moth give them powers as well” Cat Noir said jumping in.

“Right!” Ladybug said. “Are you up for it?”

Chienne reaction thought. “While I don’t LIKE supporting Hawk Moth, I think it’s our only option.” She breathed out. “Here goes. Kiss of Luck!” She powered up Hawk Moth.

“Thank you,” Hawk Moth said. Butterflies surrounded him. “As a reward, here you go” he powered up a butterfly and infused it with Chienne Reaction’s miraculous. She transformed so that she was a bit taller, a bit stronger, the color of her costume was a bit darker, and she had three heads. “Cerberus. Once I give everyone else a Tenshi, I want you to power them up further. Can you do that?” Cerberus nodded. “Excellent. Now then, who’s next?” He created an army of tenshi, and one by one, they fused with the miraculous.

Bunnyx gained a light blue helmet with the bunny ears still attached, light blue elbow pads and knee pads, and was now floating on a giant chromatic light blue pocket watch. “Time Hopper!”

Viperion’s arms and legs got covered in different bangles, but the original one was still distinct. He also had a headband, which lifted his hair a little bit, a belt, and a metal mask going across his mouth, all of which were similar to his bangle. “Viperidae!”

Pegasus grew longer dreads, and they were no longer tied up. His shoes were edged with a bit of metal. Additionally, he had two black spots on the palms of his hand. Aside from that, he was made a little taller, and a little stronger. “Wyld Stallyn!”

Tigress’s stripes were made bolder, and more jagged. Her hair was let down, but more frizzed. She also grew nail-like claws of different colors on each one. “Neon Tigress!”

King Monkey gained a golden light around him, as well as a cloud-like essence coming off of his gloves, footwear, and tail. “Wukong!”

Ryuko’s face was enveloped with a dragon mask which kept the horns. Ryuko’s eyes peered through the nostrils, while the eyes on the dragon head were white, but reverberated an energy to them. Additionally, all of the black on Ryuko’s costume, aside from the seal, turned to that same white color as the eyes, and was also radiating energy. “Ryukyu!”

Hog Wild’s shoulder pads grew hair-like thistles. The tusk design on her respirator grew out into actual tusks. And her hair stood on end, with a line of pink going down the middle. “War Hog!”

Rooster Gold’s feet grew three talons. His hair grew a little bit longer. His crossbow became bigger, and he was also surrounded by two rings of feathers which made him look like an atom molecule. “Thundercluck!”

Scouries grew little tufts of hair on her suit to make her look more mangy, and her natural hair followed suit. Her torso was adorned with a multiplication sign with the number 1 in the middle of it. She gained longer mask ties, and she was also given a small, floating monitor. “Miss Souriesous!”

BleatStar’s horns grew in size. The suit’s black feet and hands turned gold to reflect the color of the bell. His hair was let down, leaving it a bit messy, and he had a lightning strike design going across his face. “Abaaaddin Sane!”

Each section of Oxenfree’s costume was given a little scale which read out how hard or soft he is. At the moment, all of the needles were in the middle. “Kiloxenfree!”

Paonne Ange gained two sets of deep blue wings; one set on her upper back, and one on her lower. Her domino mask gained a vertical rectangle in the middle of it. “Paonne Archange!”

Sting’s arms grew pincers that acted as gauntlets around his fists. His tail grew bigger, and his stinger grew sharper. “Heraculeaus!”

Web Spinner’s fangs became more pronounced. Her costume grew four legs that could hold her up. She also gained an hourglass insignia on her chest and back. “Web Weaver!”

Honey Bee’s decorative wings became real, and her honey colored gloves felt like they were made of tangible honey. Also, her hair was let down, and she had two more streaks going through it, one black, one honey colored. “Honey Queen!”

Carapace gained giant, shell-shaped knee pads, elbow pads, and shoulder pads, as well as a face scarf that covered the lower half of his face. “Murtle!”

Rena Rouge’s hair was let out of its ponytail, and the little tails in her hair stood on end. The black sections on her arms and legs gained orange lines that followed the skeletal structure of those areas. “Rintails!”

The hood of Judgement Wolf’s cloak was made more wolf-like. His cloak was now fully open, and his torso was adorned with three gray claw marks. He also gained claw-like nails on all fingers, except the one the miraculous resided on. “Lupus Judgement!”

Cat Noir’s entire body came to look like a black mist, but you can still see a tangible shape. Also, his claws were more pronounced. “Ultra Noir!”

Finally, Ladybug’s outfit changed so that she was white with red spots, instead of red with black spots. “Superbug!”

Cerberus powered up the tenshied heroes even further. Paonne Archange was next, as she brought back everyone’s sentimonster from a few days ago that had one. Heraculeaus got Golden Dragon back, and Web Weaver got a similar one called Jade Dragon. Paonne Archange also gave one to Hawk Moth; a humanoid figure who looked like Gabriel, except he was all white, with the exception of a red cross going across his chest, whom Paonne Archange dubbed “Healer.” Royal Guard came in and powered everyone up even further.

“Alright,” Superbug commanded, “I will go and confront Nurushwa directly and try and figure out a way to free Lila. While that’s going on, the rest of you are going to fight these akumas, save the people, and have Hawk Moth and Paonne Archange create more heroes and sentimonsters to aid us in that. Cerberus will continue to power people up as well. Are we ready?!” Everyone nodded. “Then let’s go!” The heroes spread out from their position, while Hawk Moth stayed there to create more tenshi to spread around the citizenry.

Before they went off fully, Murtle stopped and pulled Wyld Stallyn and Time Hopper aside. “Hold on” Murtle said. He created a barrier behind Hawk Moth that stretched across the remaining city on that side. “Nurushwa does not have anyone there!” Murtle explained. “Whoever we free, send them there.”

At that moment, a large group of people started appearing. Time Hopper shrugged. “I guess I already did.” Murtle nodded, shook his head, and the three of them left off.

While this plan came together fast, Nurushwa’s power was unlike anything they had seen, and he already amassed a powerful, sizable army to fight on his behalf. However, the process of turning Lila into a kwami was taking its time since Lila was his primary power source after being locked away for many years. “Why are you doing this?!” Lila asked.

“Because I can,” Nurushwa answered for his prisoner. “I have the power to exert dominance over others. The other kwamis go on and one about peace, and unity, and helping others. It’s disgusting. Once I have freed my like-minded brothers and sisters from the prisons those other kwamis made, we can finally subjugate these pathetic humans.”

Lila remained silent. She knew she couldn’t preach of the ideals he threw aside because she herself failed to live up to them herself. She realized she felt like she was doing what he was. “What, no comeback?” Nurushwa taunted. “Of course not. You’re just like me. And soon, that will fully be realized.”

Lila silently cried. I guess there really is no hope for someone like me.

There was an explosion. “What the?” Nurushwa sensed his army was taking several blows. “Grrrr. HOLD STRONG! WE’RE GOING TO TAKE CONTROL! NO BACKING DOWN!” he yelled at his army, to which they cheered. The army continued making advances.

Superbug was bee-lining it to Nurushwa, taking out what she could of his army, with Royal Guard doing a lot of the heavy lifting. Despite the fact that there were now tens of thousands, she was more confident than ever that her team, Hawk Moth, and the army he was conjuring up would handle them.

Ultra Noir was keeping close to Superbug, but focusing on the enemies rather than where she was going. His misty features made it hard for the enemies to hit him. Ultra Noir also found that he could create Cataclysms as big or as small as he wanted. He used it to destroy parts of buildings to land on Nurushwa’s unwilling minions, as well as destroy them outright, while keeping the humans inside safe. He continued his attack.

Meanwhile, his Sentimonster, Guardian Angel, flew close by; taking out Nurushwa’s army with their light powers and feather manipulation. They also had the ability to heal those who had been recently freed from Nurushwa’s control.

Lupus Judgement was going around freeing everyone he could with his powered up Reveal Claw. He only took out his sword when he needed to defend himself. Lucky for him, this was a rare instance because Firefighter was backing him up at every turn.

As Rintails was running, she saw Nurushwa’s akumas descending. She grabbed Murtle and said “I have an idea! I’ll lure them with fake people, and you capture them in little bubbles!”

“Sounds awesome!” Murtle. Rintails nodded and began phase one of her plan. The akumas took the bait, which allowed Murtle to do phase two. To protect them from danger, Composite Ladybug and Bubbleblast worked together to fight off any attackers.

Honey Queen was flying around the city. On top of her beebots immobilizing Nurushwa’s army, she could also shoot sticky honey from her gloves to make them stick to where they were. Following behind her was Pride Monster, who would swallow the akumatized people and spit them back out free of Nurushwa’s control.

Also taking to the skies was Paone Archange. She flew around granting people Sentimonsters. She would usually coordinate this with people being Tenshied by Hawk Moth to gain even more power. She would protect herself when needed, but she also received aid from Buzzstormer and Cerberus. Cerberus would also go around powering up the Tenshis to make them even stronger.

Time Hopper and Wyld Stallyn were working together to track and find anyone free from Nurushwa and time travel/teleport them to the area behind the defencive wall, while also taking care of anyone attacking them directly. MX-01, apart from being really good at taking out Nurushwa’s soldiers, was able to locate these people and relay that information to Speedstaker, who in turn would bring those people closer to Wyld Stallyn and Time Hopper. Time Hopper would invite people onto her watch-board and travel to the safe zone; instantly traveling back to take enemies by surprise. Wyld Stallyn would create portals for himself when the situation called for it, but he would also use the spots on his hands to make portals for others. His was his main way of getting people to the wall.

Viperidae launched chronospheres from each of his straps. Each Chronosphere covered a section of the city. He and Soundwave Rider would make their way through the city, battling the monsters. Every so often, each strap, at a different time, would reset everything in the chronosphere it had influence over, on the chance that things would go wrong in said Chronosphere. The heroes inside would be made aware so they could make adjustments.

Wukong would blast out disruptive objects to the minions, causing them to lose control. Valkyrie Archer would then use their arrows to pin the monsters. Both would attack together if the situation called for it.

Kiloxenfree was fighting the creature head on. Most of the time, he remained hard all around, since that made him practically invincible. However, if the situation called for it, he would go soft in some places; most notable whenever something was thrown at him, it would fly back at whoever threw it. Loveheart also helped with the offensive front.

Miss Souriesous was also fighting Nurushwa’s monsters, when one of them snuck up on her. However, another Miss Souriesous, at full size and with a number 2 on her X, attacked them. The two Miss Souriesouses smiled and nodded at each other. Miss Sourieous 1 looked at her monitor and saw that her plan of dividing and conquering was going well, with many Miss Souriesouses of differing sizes fighting these monsters all across Paris. Courificator helped by attacking these monsters, and providing transport to some of the smaller Miss Souriesouses.

Ryukyu was storming the area and fighting the Nurushwa army head on. Whenever she would call upon one of her weather powers, not only would the seal glow to the corresponding effect, but the eyes on the dragon mask would change color to match, as well as the sections on her costume that matched. This meant that not only could she change into the effect itself, but those parts would have the powers of said effect; making them really useful in combat. Aiding her was Oniposte, and their battle prowess alongside each other was astounding.

Neon Tigress was doing her best to remain calm. This is so that whenever she shot out a Reverb, the monsters around her would calm down as well. Because she was powered up, she could shoot out many reverbs at a time. Threadmaker would then tie them all up, and the two would continue to advance.

Wherever War Hog went, she would distort her surroundings before battle. She would do this during battle too, but doing it before allowed her to make the area to her liking, and it also gave Rebel Cat better opportunities for surprise attacks.

Thundercluck worked on keeping his distance and sniping the monsters with Down Strikes, while Pagemaster summoned as many drawings as it could to aid in the attack. Whenever one of Nurushwa’s monsters got close, they would touch one of the feathers circling Thundercluck and instantly fall asleep. This was helpful, as it allowed Thundercluck time to move when necessary.

Abaaaddin Sane notices that one he began harvesting feelings, they would continue to come to him. This gave him more than enough ammo to take down Nurushwa’s army in many creative ways. Following him was Multi-Bleat, who would often assist Abaaadin Sane with his takedowns.

Heraculeaus and Web Weaver were working together. Web Weaver would corner the monsters, alongside Golden Dragon and Jade Dragon, and the Heraculeaus would use his stinger to unlock the binds of the akumas to the people. Healer was not too far behind, and he would heal the citizenry after they were free, and protect them from getting akumatized again.

Nurushwa was furious that his minions were taking severe blows. “Well well, it looks like we’ll have another thing in common” Lila chuckled. “Losing to Ladybug.”

“Grrrr” huffed Nurushwa. “It’s not over yet! I’ll just have to keep making more! Soon, they’ll be so overwhelmed and overworked that they can’t help but fall!” Lila became worried.

However, as Nurushwa was gathering the energy to do this, he was interrupted. “HALT!” screamed Superbug. Nurushwa looked at her. She was staring at him intently. “LET LILA GO AND STOP THIS SIEGE ON PARIS! OR I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!”

Lila looked up. She could see what Nurushwa was seeing. She could believe her eyes. “Ladybug?”

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #Marinette #adrien #gabriel #lila #alya #nino #Chloe #vlad #alix #Nathaniel #Marc #MAX #ivan #sabrina #mylene #rose #juleka #ondine #kagami #Luka #Kim

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grimalkinmessor · 4 years

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hm, 20 for padr? (if you’re still doing the ask meme!)

I AM ALWAYS UP FOR PADR 💙💜

Dib reclined back in the jelly cushion, slightly tipsy and actively removing the bottle of rum from Purple's curious (and incredibly sly) gaze. He stretched backwards, incredibly unsubtle, and deposited the bottle discreetly behind his cushion. When he turned back, he found that Purple's oculars had relocated to his stomach, where his shirt had ridden up.

Catching the raised eyebrow Dib threw his way, Purple flicked his gaze up and smirked. He leaned his elbow on the armrest of his own chair and rested his chin in his claws.

"While your concern is endearing, °Jarumil°, I am a Tallest. I doubt your human rye water will do me much harm."

"It's not you I'm worried about," Dib shot back with a huff. He tugged his t-shirt back down. "And it's sugarcane, not rye. Though I'm kind of impressed you knew that much."

Purple tipped his head and flicked an antennae. He stood and glided over to Dib, silken robe wisping against the floor. He dropped himself onto the jelly cushion , strewn dramatically across Dib's lap. Dib grunted. "I told you that I was looking into you," Purple murmured, reaching up to grasp Dib's chin and tip his face up with his claws--even like this, he had to crane his head back to meet the Tallest's eyes. They glimmered lilac in the lowlight, suddenly mischevious. "For instance, I know that you once crafted a hero cape from an All Hallow's Eve costume and some felt."

Dib's cheeks flushed and he leaned his head back with a groan. "Oh God, I'd forgotten about that! Ugh. Wait--how the hell did you find out about that? I haven't even told Zim!"

Purple smirked, though his eyes had narrowed at the mention of Zim. "Your progenitor, it turns out, is good for very few things. Fodder on you is one of them."

Dib rolled his eyes. "Dad. Of course."

"Mm. I don't need him for much, however. Your, ah, sibling was keen to share the oddessey of your old trenchcoat with me. Excuse me--coats. Plural."

"I had to buy them in bulk--Zim ruined at least three every week!" Dib protested, brow furrowed in affront. "At some point, patches don't cut it." He reached up and removed Purple's claw from his chin, feeling blood beading beneath it.

Purple hummed. "Just as well. Cloth is not viable armor."

Amber eyes flicked over the Tallest reclined in his lap and rounded back to Purple's, unimpressed. "Right. Considering your outfits are mostly made of cloth."

Wrenching his wrist from Dib's grip, Purple dug his clawtip into Dib's bottom lip with a haughty look. "Comfort belies power. I can afford to take the risk of a lack of armor because I am confident in my prowess." He threaded a hand through Dib's hair, tugging. "And you forget, I used to be an Elite before I became Tallest. You should have seen me in my old uniform--then you would know what true armor is." He paused, looking upwards in contemplation. "Actually, come to think of it, I'm fairly sure it still fits."

Dib raised his eyebrows.

Purple grinned, eyes bright and he exited Dib's lap and stood. He tugged on Dib's cowlick and ordered, "Wait here." before sweeping off out of the living room and down the hall.

Huffing, Dib glared after him. Sometimes, he thought that Purple forgot that they weren't on the Massive anymore. That Dib wasn't wearing his chains anymore.

...Dib kind of hated that he liked when Pur got like that.

There was a clanging noise down the hall, then a loud thud, but Dib was far too comfortable to get up. Irken's had a flair for the dramatic (and destructive), after all. It was probably fine. Maybe.

Besides, he'd seen what Zim's Invader uniform was like--Purple wasn't going to roll out a fucking battle mech or anything.

...

"Please don't roll out a battle mech in my living room, please don't roll out a battle mech in my living room, please don't--" Dib chanted under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm afraid something so bulky wouldn't fit in my PAK," came Purple's dry response, now at the doorway.

Dib opened his eyes and blinked. His eyes widened and his cheeks went pink. "Um."

Purple smirked, infuriatingly smug, as always. He preened and stepped further into the room. "Impressive, no? Irken tech always leaves little to be desired."

He gave a little twirl to demonstrate.

Metal and gems swirled with him, the silken flare of his robe gone in place of a dark metal mesh that hugged tightly to his legs and disappeared into high, pointed black boots with iron heels and toes. Slatted metal that looked vaguely like a beetle shell hung down off Pur's hips, sheened in violet when it hit the light just right. It cinched at the waist into a corset, then flared intimidatingly out at the chest with sharp arcs shining dangerously just above Pur's shoulders, a large thistle gem embedded in the pristine chest plate. The mesh extended down his arms as well, a dark lavender cuff around each elbow and bicep. Purple's lovingly crafted gauntlets were gone, and in their places was a rounded, wicked looking hunk of black metal that wrapped over his hands like fingerless gloves. The fingers were a bright shade of magenta cloth, though the covering where his thumbs should've been remained limp and empty.

Dib swallowed.

Purple caught his gaze and paused. His lips twitched, wry. "I do not miss them, if that is your concern, °Jarumil°."

"I'm not concerned," Dib shot back immediately, standing unsteadily. Maybe the rum was a bad idea. He shook his head and waited for the world to stop spinning before he made his way to Purple. "Though...I might be a little impressed," He grumbled after a moment, stopping just in front of Pur and tipping his head.

Purple preened, antennae vibrating pleasantly. He allowed Dib to reach forward and trace the gem at his sternum with a faintly amused look. "As you should be, human."

Amber eyes snapped up, fiery. "Don't be a dick about this. I'm tipsy, but I can still kick your ass."

"Ah, there you are," Purple exclaimed, ecstatic. He caught Dib's face in his hands and dragged him up into a kiss with a hum. Purple's face scrunched up and he pulled back slightly, tongue peeking out of his lips in distaste. "Bitter." He shot the half-hidden bottle behind the cushion a disdainful look. Then he turned back to Dib and caught him by the hips, leaning forward crooning, "°My little beast has returned.°"

Dib held a hand up and leaned back with faint reluctance. "Ah ah. What did we talk about? What's the rule?"

Purple raised an eyebrow, antennae twitching. "You despise it when I do."

Dib sighed, rueful. "Yeah, but it's the healthy thing to do."

Rolling his eyes--an action he picked up from Dib, yet would never admit to--Purple tugged Dib forward again, leaning in close. "Would you please allow me to fuck you?"

Choking on his own spit, Dib turned scarlet and ran his hand down his face. Laughing shrilly, he peeked up at Pur and grinned, embarrassed but sly.

"Why the fuck not?"

#asks #anonymous #dapr #padr #prompts #ah anon ily #invader zim #almighty tallest purple #tallest purple #dib membrane #my writing #for those who havent read any of my fics before:#jarumil means pet #nff??#nff

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sebthesnipe · 4 years

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The Color Purple

February Prompts 2/20

Prompt List

First // Previously // Next

The February Collection on AO3

My Dearest Procyon

Other works by me

Prompt: Sting / Shadow

Ship: Prinxiety and logicality

Original story based on this wonderful post by @underdog-arts

Logan paced across the window sill, filling the room with an aura of anxiety. He did not like this, not in the least. Roman and Virgil had been gone for a little over an hour, leaving both he and Patton alone at the inn.

“Buck up, kiddo,” Patton sighed softly from where he sat in the corner, still working on the small wreath of flowers in his hands. “I’m sure they’ll be just fine.”

The reassurance did not help. How could Patton be so nonchalant about the whole thing?! Virgil had blatantly left out of spite! It certainly wasn’t surprising, knowing the man’s attitude towards authority, but it still stung. What was Logan supposed to do now? Was he going to have to sit there and wait all day?

He paused in his laps to glance down at his shadow stretching across the floorboards of the small room. The sun was still fairly low in the sky, signaling that it would indeed be a very length weight.

The cat huffed, shifting to turn his back on the sight, not wanting the visual reminder of the seconds creeping by. He peered out the window, down at the street that lead towards the center of town. No doubt, that is where the two of them would be. What if they were arguing? What if today was the day of the vision? What if Virgil killed Roman and was dragged away to be dealt with by the authorities? What if-

“Choo!” the sudden sneeze startled a surprise hiss from the feline as he pounced to his feet, heart racing.

“Excuse me,” Patton sniffled, glancing down at the now singed flower crown in his hands. “Oh… oh, no.” His brows furrowed in response at the sight, obviously devastated that the thing was ruined, small tendrils of smoke still rising from his nostrils.

“Well,” the dragon sighed softly, setting the charred remains aside, and started rummaging through the pack next to him, “at least yours is still in one piece.”

When he finally produced the small crown of white and pink flowers Logan allowed himself to relax, lowering his hackles and giving the creature a flat stare. He was not wearing that.

“Be-leaf me, you’re going to look amazing!” Patton offered excitedly as he pushed to his feet.

…………………..

“No.”

“But Virgil….” Roman whined in return practically hanging off the smaller man, eyes larger than the witch had ever seen them as the prince pleaded with him.

“I said no, Roman. We don’t need it,” Virgil huffed, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly.

“Yes we do! It is a matter of life and death!” Roman swooned, flopping against Virgil’s other side dramatically.

“Life or death?” the spellcaster asked with an arched brow trying not to allow his amusement to show. “Yes!” Roman replied desperately.

“In what way?”

“I shall give him a life of love and adoration like he has never known! Without him I shall die of boredom!” he cried, practically dropping to his knees as he clung to the smaller man.

“Promise?” Virgil asked evenly.

“It shall be a horrible death! I shall not go quietly my good sir! It will be loud and torturous and-”

“Alright! Alright!” Virgil huffed, already tired of the wailing. He dug into his pocket for the small pence as Roman bounded to his feet, suddenly free of his horrid afflictions. Virgil pressed the coin into the young vendor’s small palm, waiting for Roman to pick which crafted creature he wanted.

Countless beasts hung from a large rack, each tied up with a tiny string, their long furry bodies dangling helplessly as they waited for someone to save them.

“The purple one!” Roman exclaimed, pointing out a small worm made of little purple wires, two black buttons sewn on for eyes.

The choice made Virgil glance up, thankful that his own purple eye was hidden behind a small glamour to keep away unwanted attention. He watched as the girl climbed up on her little stool, untied the toy from its rack and handed it over silently, offering a small smile towards them both.

“Thank you, M’lady!” Roman boomed, giving a flourishing bow towards the maiden, making her giggle, before he accepted the hideous thing.

“Look Virgil! It matches your eye!” Roman offered when they were far enough away not to be overheard.

The witch ducked his head at the words, feeling his face heat as he lifted a hand to touch the eye in question. He had cast the glamour as soon as they had spotted the village the day before. The fact that Roman remembered its exact shade of purple was… troubling.

“Why do you and Logan have the purple eye anyways?” Roman asked, pulling the string through the air and causing the wurm attached to it to wiggle after the motions.

It was a moment before Virgil managed to respond, not sure how much to tell the prince. The mumble was so soft that Roman had almost managed to miss it.

“What?” he asked in return, causing Virgil to draw further into the fabric of his cloak.

The witch replied once more, the words still muffled and unintelligible.

“Virgil, I can’t understand you when you have a cloak shoved in your-”

“I said they’re mine!” Virgil snapped loudly, causing a few of the passersby to glance their way.

Roman hesitated a moment before he burst into laughter, causing the people around them to relax and go about their day.

“People don’t have purple eyes,” he commented, wrapping an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders and guiding him onwards. “Do they?” he asked suddenly unsure.

“No, they don’t,” the witch huffed, shoving his arm off of him, and continuing to hide his shamed face. “At least not normal people,” he added in a small whisper.

“Well, I happen to like purple.” Roman stated, all humor gone from his voice.

Virgil glanced up at the prince, taking in his serious yet soft expression. It was obvious that he was being serious, not a hint of malice as far Virgil could tell. “Y-you do?”

“Well, yeah,” Roman shrugged, smiling softly down at the smaller man. “Purple is the color of royalty you know. I remember when I was younger, my father took me to a kingdom across the sea to the east where the Queen had forbidden anyone except royalty to wear the color.”

“Really?” Virgil asked, straightening a bit with his curiosity. The sight had Roman’s expression brightening slightly as he nodded.

“Oh yes. In fact, at the welcoming banquet the night after we arrived, there was not a soul that hadn’t dressed completely in varying degrees of the color!” he explained excitedly. “I had never seen so many different shades: mauve, thistle, orchid, heliotrope, heather, mulberry. They were all so beautiful, especially when everyone moved to dance. The dresses and capes would flourish,” he gave an exaggerated twirl, his own cape lifting to reveal the clothes beneath, a newly purchased traveling outfit that seemed to hug him a bit snuggly. “I remember climbing on one of the large marble pillars that lined the hall and looking across the ocean of violets and it reminded me of crocuses in the winter when everything else is grey or yellowing.”

They were silent for a moment, unaware that they had stopped walking and now stood in the middle of the pathway; Virgil peering up at the prince in awe, Roman returning his gaze, the faux purple creature dangling from the string still clutched in his hands.

“I don’t think they really compare to yours though,” Roman offered after a long moment, the words coming out far more softly than he had intended them to.

“My what?” the witch responded, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Your shade of purple,” Roman replied simply.

“Oh,” was all Virgil could manage, his flush deepening against his cheeks at the compliment.

Suddenly, Roman gave a small grunt as he was shoved out of the way of a heavyset man pushing a large cart and straight into the witch making them both stumble to one side.

“Watch it!” the merchant snapped as he pressed on.

Roman’s arm wrapped around Virgil’s waist to keep him from falling as they tripped over one another, pinning him to his chest. Much to the prince’s surprise, the smaller man seemed soft against the hard line of his body, giving off a surprising amount of warmth as they pressed against one another.

“Are you alright?” the taller man asked, his free hand lifting to rest at the witches elbow.

“W-what… y-yeah, no; I mean…” Virgil mumbled, taking a moment to gather his thoughts as his hands rested against Roman’s far too toned chest.

Finally, all his common sense seemed to come rushing back to him and he gave the prince a hard shove.

“Maybe if you paid better attention to your surroundings we wouldn’t almost get run over!” Virgil snapped without much heat, running a hand down the front of his cloak to smooth it down. “Geeze, why do you have to be so dense all the time?” he grumbled turning away to stop off in the direction of the bookshop Logan had mentioned, leaving Roman hurrying after him in confusion.

……………………………….

Logan still was not happy with the circumstances as they were. It was well past midday and neither Roman nor Virgil had returned, leaving the cat in an anxious heap. The upside to it all was that he had the opportunity to spend more time with Patton. The downside was that Patton being as powerful as he was left Logan unable to communicate with him. This meant that the endless questions that the psychic had for the dragon would have to wait until he was in his human form.

“Choo!” Patton squeaked, covering his mouth with the inside of his elbow as another wave of heat hit the black cat curled on his lap, a crown of flowers framing his small triangle ears. There was no doubt about it now, Patton was most certainly getting sick.

First, a vision that Virgil would kill the prince, then the two of them running off together just for spite, leaving Patton with Logan in his feline form unable to communicate with him telepathically, and now the man was growing ill? Logan wasn’t quite sure if things could get much worse.

To be continued...

Taglist:

@hiddendreamer67 @nightashes @aequinoctiale @sumersnowlilly

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templeofulchtar · 5 years

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Starscreamian Correspondences: Part One

This is Part One of a two-part series. The topic is so large that I couldn’t cover even half of it! This first post is a general discussion of correspondences as they relate to Starscream, while in Part Two, you will find an exercise to help you develop your own personalized set of correspondences for Starscream.

What are Correspondences?

Correspondences are things that people tend to associate with… well, other things. In magick, correspondences are used to evoke the power of certain entities, or weave certain energies into your ritual or spell. A correspondence can be almost anything, from plants, colors, weapons, planets, constellations, elements, musical instruments, animals, numbers, crystals, days of the week, and so on.

Roses, for example, are sacred to Venus. So are apples, copper, the color green, the number five, and Friday. If you were to create a ritual that taps into Venusian energy, you might have it on a Friday, Venus’ sacred day, and make an offering of five roses, a green apple, or five copper pennies; you might light a green candle and write your intention using a pen with copper-colored ink. By using these correspondences, you are anchoring your working in Venusian energy, which will help you realize intentions associated with Venus, such as love or abundance.

Starscream has correspondences too.

Quite a lot of them, in fact! His classic colors of Silver and Red are obvious correspondences, as is the Eagle, since his G1 alt-mode is that of an F-15 Eagle. Numerologically, his name equates to the number 36 (or 9), so I consider those to be his sacred numbers, and his signature weapon, the Null-Ray, and coronation crown are also very much associated with him.

In addition to these ‘canon’ correspondences, I also have a large set of personal correspondences for Starscream. Some I can back up with evidence, while others are idiosyncratic. For example, I can make a reasonably solid argument for why I think Starscream is a Scorpio, but my reasons for thinking of the Thistle as one of his plant totems are more personal.

Below are my thoughts on some of the more canon-supported correspondences for Starscream. These are just suggestions. Take what resonates, and leave the rest. Your path with Starscream is yours, and it's ultimately up to you, and him, to decide what's best.

Starscream’s Weapons

Starscream has a number of weapons, ranging from deadly (his cluster-bombs) to comical (the slingshot he uses in *More Than Meets The Eye, Part 2*). But of course it’s his signature weapon, the Null-Ray, that’s always held the greatest fascination for me. Marvel's *Transformers Universe* comic series describes the null-ray as being "able to interrupt the flow of electricity in any circuitry... for periods of up to two minutes."

How cool is that? Not only does it interrupt the flow of energy through circuitry, but it also appears to stabilize or neutralize energies that have become unbalanced. It has even been shown to have healing properties. In the episode Auto Berserk, for example, Starscream fired his null-ray at Red Alert, causing his logic circuits to stabilize. Magickally speaking, the Null-Ray has so many potential applications that I ended up writing a separate post for it, complete with a meditation. See The Null-Ray: Magickal Uses.

Starscreamian Colors

I love how colorful the Seekers are! They are like splendidly plumaged birds, each with his own vivid color scheme that's uniquely his. I have some headcanon regarding color in TFs. For example, I like the idea that a character's outward colors aren't paint, but are created by chromites—that is, specialized nanites that create the color and finish on the character's frame. I also like the idea that the chromites respond to the character's spark in creating his or her signature colors and patterns, and so there is often a correspondence between a character's frame color and the color of their spark.

Color is a fun topic. There is no doubt that color has a potent psychological, and even physiological effect, on us, and I wear Starscream’s colors a lot. For this reason, it makes complete sense to use it in magick. It can be incorporated into your workings in countless ways (too many to list!), but here is a quick run-down of colors I associate with Starscream, and what their magickal associations tend to be:

Red: The color of human blood, red is associated with vitality, life force, passion, instinctual drives, survival and sexuality. It’s also thought to be the color of the Root, or Base Chakra, which is located at the perineum and is associated with survival and security.

Silver: The metal silver is associated with the Moon, with night, feminine forces, yin, intuition, the deep subconscious, wisdom and secrets.

Blue: The color of Earth’s sky, blue is also thought to be the color of the Throat Chakra, associated with mind, science, reason, speech, writing and other forms of verbal communication. It’s also the color most associated with water, and has connotations of purity and cleansing.

Yellow: The color of our Sun, yellow is thought to be the color of the Solar Plexus Chakra, located between the ribs and the navel on a human. This Chakra is associated with ego, will, drive and aggression. It's interesting that the only yellow part of Starscream is his brilliant golden-yellow cockpit canopy, and that when he's in root mode, it's located in roughly in the same location as the Solar Plexus Chakra would be on a human. It's as if his Will or Ego center is hugely overblown and exaggerated - which is actually true! In fact, his French name is Ego).

Gold: The color of Starscream’s crown is, as you might imagine, the color associated with extravagance, wealth, riches, and excess, though it is also associated with illumination, love, compassion, courage, passion, magic, and wisdom.

Purple: The color of Starscream’s coronation mantle is purple, a color which represents the sythesis of blue’s calm stability with red’s fierce energy. Purple is associated with intuition, the psychic realm, royalty, creativity, luxury, power, pride, homosexuality, ambition, mysticism, independence, magic and… wouldn’t you know it… resurrection. (And, of course, Decepticons.)

The Mantle

Starscream’s coronation outfit. Le sigh.

Okay, confession time: I’ll admit that I felt embarrassed and vaguely uneasy the first time I watched the coronation scene, and as we all know by now, it turned out my sense of unease was fully justified. Whenever things go well for Starscream, it’s pretty much always because the writers are setting him up for a fall; and what a fall this was.

*pauses to sigh again*

But in seriousness, there’s a lot to be said about the symbolism of these clothing items. A mantle represents authority. In fact, when we say that someone is ‘assuming the mantle’ of something, it means they are taking on a specific role or position, along with any associated responsibilities.

Perhaps the presence of the mantle in the coronation scene was intended to underline the idea that Starscream was overstepping his assigned role in life, and that he was unprepared, or unfit, to take on the responsibilities associated with the role he’d just usurped.

There is, of course, another way of looking at it, one that is especially suitable for Ghost Season symbolism, which can be summarized by the saying, ‘fake it ‘til you make it.’ Our goals and ambitions *should* be a stretch for us. They should be a challenge, and they will almost certainly push us into taking on new roles and responsibilities for which we may feel unfit, or unprepared. That’s how growth is.

Sometimes the best thing you can do is brazen things out. Put on your mantle, wear it with pride, and prepare your acceptance speech. “Fellow Decepticons! As your new leader…” In time—and with practice—your new mantle will begin to feel as much a part of you as your null-rays.

Until then, my friend, fake on! (It looks so damn good on you.)

The Crown

Crowns, as you can probably guess, represent royalty. They correspond with the Crown Chakra, the energy center which connects us to universal energy (aka God), and thus symbolizes a monarch’s ‘divine’ right to rule. This is a very ancient idea. Throughout history, rulers have been viewed either as gods themselves, or as divinely appointed.

The Transformers series is fully on board with this notion, presenting the Autobot Matrix as a stand-in for the divine force that confers kingship upon those it deems worthy. In other words, those who possess a special, mysterious quality get divinely appointed to rule over the rest of us. Call it… the Touch. But Starscream, in refreshingly iconoclastic fashion, upends this whole paradigm.

Sure, he could wait around for a sparkly rock to decide he’s worthy to rule, or he could take matters into his own hands. Of course by doing so, he violated the established ‘natural order’ of the Transformers universe, and because of this, he was swiftly put back in his place. One does not simply appoint oneself king! You must stand around and wait until the sparkly rock chooses you. (Obviously!)

In light of what I’ve said above, you may already have guessed that you can invoke the symbolism of the crown as a means of activating to your Crown Chakra and connecting to the divine, especially your own divine nature. The crown can also symbolize the act of choosing oneself; of reclaiming one’s personal and spiritual authority.

Starscream’s crown has four prongs. In numerology, 4 represents stability, rationality, structure and rules. It’s linked to the Emperor card in the Tarot deck—which is interesting, since the Emperor, in Tarot, is the king of kings—and it’s also associated with the Death card. In some cultures, 4 is considered an unlucky number due to its association with death, but the Death card in Tarot is actually a positive card which symbolizes transformation. Starscream’s crown is an excellent symbol to employ if you are seeking to take charge of your life through your magick, or to transform it in a deep and powerful way.

The scarlet gems which adorn Starscream’s crown are another obvious bit of symbolism. We’ve already talked about the symbolism of the color Red, and we could speculate about what type of gems those are (rubies, perhaps?), but since this is getting long, I want to draw your attention to that central, hexagonal gem that sits directly on the forehead of the crown.

That is a Third Eye. It actually looks like one of Starscream’s own optics, but turned sideways—a classic depiction of a Third Eye. The Third Eye is the Sixth Chakra, which on humans is thought to be located on the forehead, above and directly between the eyes. It governs intuition and psychic abilities, making Starscream’s crown a wonderful symbol to employ in psychic development or awakening one’s intuition.

In the next post, I’ll give you an exercise for developing your very own, personalized set of correspondences. Keep reading!

#starscream #starscream spirit guide #pop culture magick #pop culture paganism #pop culture spirituality #pop culture spirit guides #starscream's crown #starscream's null-ray #symbolism #magical correspondences

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k-sunrael · 6 years

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Detailed - Kaevia Sun’rael

Character Chart

Character’s full name: Kaevia Sun’rael

Reason or meaning of name: It was a name offered by a friend of the family.

Character’s nickname: Dove (by some family members) and Kae by friends

Reason for nickname: Kaevia compared to most of her relatives is a ‘dove’ among ‘ravens’; or so they say.

Birth date: January 29th

Physical appearance

Age: 63

How old does he/she appear: 25ish

Weight: 124lbs

Height: 5’5”

Body build: Lissome

Shape of face: Heart shaped.

Eye color: Light green though they have begun to turn a yellowish color.

Glasses or contacts: No

Skin tone: Lightly sunkissed

Distinguishing marks: None that can be seen in simple passing.

Predominant features: Her lips or eyes, depending on who you ask.

Hair color: Black.

Type of hair: thick and short

Hairstyle: Always down and often kept in a bit of a sassy bang flip or with a small wave.

Voice: Silvery and calm

Overall attractiveness: Attractive in the face and personality but overall her curves aren’t all that impressive compared to most.

Physical disabilities: None

Usual fashion of dress: Rich colors such as greys, blacks and dark purples.She seemingly favors slacks and vests, jackets and high-boots these days which is her everyday wear, her more regal attire is often kept for events and celebrations.

Favorite outfit: Black slacks and her house jacket with raven feathers at the shoulder piece.

Jewelry or accessories: Earrings in her ears and several bands on her fingers along with a silver pocket watch at her hip.

Personality

Good personality traits: Patient, Tactful, Blunt and honest as well as caring

Bad personality traits: Logical, Jealous and too blunt sometimes for her own good

Mood character is most often in: Observant and quiet

Sense of humor: Highbrow and sarcastic humors

Character’s greatest joy in life: Oriana, Rowan and Rhistel -- her three children

Character’s greatest fear: Losing her family

Why? It is her prized possession. She loves everyone in her circle and happens to be a character that loves hard. She isn’t willing to let go of a family member or friend easily.

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? Losing one of her children.

Character is most at ease when: Reading.

Most ill at ease when: In the middle of a disagreement.

Enraged when: Injustice is present.

Depressed or sad when: She thinks about the past. While unfortunate, she feels she could have avoided quite a lot of her choice mistakes.

Priorities: Children, House and home as well as her thriving business.

Life philosophy: “Understand more. Analyze less”

If granted one wish, it would be: It just might be to have an actual cycle of seasons in Quel’Thalas than having to continue on with that damned perpetual spring.

Why? Its stagnant.

Character’s soft spot: Her kids and sweets.

Is this soft spot obvious to others? Depends. Those closest to her usually catch on.

Greatest strength: Stoic resolve and having that ability to not let people see her unnerved.

Greatest vulnerability or weakness: Failure. She doesn’t handle it well and even more so if others take notice.

Biggest regret: Tassarion and Dalaran.

Minor regret: Asking for her Aunt Nysaira’s help.

Biggest accomplishment: Holding down her own estate as well as being the active role and candidate to take over the Sun’rael house.

Minor accomplishment: Having the ability to master both Shadow and Holy magics in balance without being swayed to the whispers of the void.

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: I’m sure she has had quite a few but I cannot remember any off the top of my head per say but it might be that moment when she professed her love to another back in her youth and was ultimately shut down.

Why? She didn’t take rejection well and even now, she still happens to have some issues with handling failure or rejection.

Character’s darkest secret: Having used and continues to practice blood magic even if it IS for the right reasons and to help others. Along with her past and how she once blinded a woman with a curse for harming a loved one.

Does anyone else know? Only those closest to her.

Goals

Drives and motivations: Keep building on her business and ‘empire’ as it were when it comes to her family name and legacy.

Immediate goals: Allow growth for herself as an individual.

Long-term goals: Keep healing and just keep doing better each and every day. Someday she also hopes to have more children.

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: By living day to day, surely something has to give.

How other characters will be affected: God only knows. I suppose that depends on who she interacts with and who decides to be a part of her life in some aspect or another.

Past

Hometown: Suncrown Village

Type of childhood: Fairly sheltered though she did leave home at a young age to study and practice the Holy word under Syrahn Bloodfeather, formerly known as Bloodlust. Her parents were both alive (Still are) and treated her well. She was an only child for much of her life and into her young adult years until her brother Arden was born. She spent much of her time abroad and in the presence of other Priests as well as Human Priests.

Pets: Several horses and hawkstriders, a wolf, a couple of sheep and goats along with several cats. All live on the estate grounds and are tended to by her groundskeeper, Illdarien.

First memory: The necklace of a tree that her father gifted her.

Most important childhood memory: Chasing her cousins around.

Why? They’re family and perhaps the only people in her family she can relate to the most just because of their age and shared experiences growing up.

Childhood hero: Her father @alucieussunrael

Dream job: What she does now. Confessor and owning her own establishment which happens to be the Smoking Crow Bar and Lounge for Mercenaries.

Education: Tutored by several mentors in the way of the Light and Shadow arts She became a full fledged Confessor a few years ago and wishes to continue along that path. She was a hired therapist that the thalassian hospital when that was still running and is quite skilled in sewing and tailoring as well as being able to administer basic healing and suturing.

Religion: The holy Light (?)

Finances: Nobility, roughly the lower or middle tier of what nobility might be.

Present

Current location: Silvermoon City / Eversong Woods

Currently living with: Her staff Illdarien and Siliva along with her three children and on occasion, Whitstan.

Pets: Several horses and hawkstriders, a wolf, a couple of sheep and goats along with several cats. All live on the estate grounds and are tended to by her groundskeeper, Illdarien.

Religion: The holy Light. (?)

Occupation: Confessor, Mother, Heiress to House Sun’rael and Entrepreneur.

Finances: Wealthy.

Family

Mother: Covaya Sun’rael

Relationship with her: Fairly good. They keep each other company and stable since her father has been missing.

Father: Alucieus Sun’rael

Relationship with him: Very close. He is her hero and the only one in her family she truly seems to resemble both personality wise and physically.

Siblings: Arden Sun’rael

Relationship with them: Arden is roughly 4 years old and they have a good relationship though at times it is lacking because of the age gap.

Spouse: Divorced.

Relationship with him/her: Quite well, the two are committed and have been ‘dating’ for a while now though it might be hard to tell from those who are outside looking in, they don’t often put their relationships or feelings on public display.

Children: Oriana and Rowan (biological twins between she and her ex-husband Tassarion) and Rhistel (adopted daughter)

Relationship with them: The relationship between she and her children is great and as expected of most women and mothers. She never forgets a moment with them and makes good on her promises with nightly stories before bed.

Other important family members: Aunt Nysaira Del’nigmis and her Aunt Ashlein Nah’taal, Uncle Areus Sun’rael and her uncle Altherian Dalin’thar and her cousins Syhris Sun’rael, Paltiel Dalin’thar and Phaeris Dalin’thar as well as her Uncle Lykor Lathai.

Favorites

Color: Grey

Least favorite color: Brown

Music: Violin and harp

Food: Sweets though she loves Silvia’s homemade sandwiches.

Literature: History, theory

Form of entertainment: Books and people/conversation..

Expressions: We met for a reason, either you are a blessing or a lesson.

Mode of transportation: Walking, horse or by carriage. Once in awhile a zepplin or ship.

Most prized possession: The stave her father made for her.

Habits

Hobbies: Reading and sewing..

Plays a musical instrument? Yes. The harp.

Plays a sport? No.

How he/she would spend a rainy day: At home in a nice hot bath with a good book. IF EVERSONG EVER HAD RAIN!

Spending habits: Fairly good. She doesn’t over indulge in spending too often without reason. She saves quite a lot of her income as well.

Smokes: No.

Drinks: Once in a while, usually bourbon.

Other drugs: VERY rarely though thistle is about the extent of her dabbling.

What does he/she do too much of? Reading and working.

What does he/she do too little of? Actively trying to make friends.

Extremely skilled at: Sensing bullshit and liars. She can read people like a book and can be very witty.

Extremely unskilled at: Showing emotion and letting people in.

Nervous tics: Lip biting.

Usual body posture: Arms crossed or hands folded primly at her front.

Mannerisms: Very postured and well taught as it might seem at first glance. She seems very polite when speaking unless given reason not to be. She looks very well dressed and observant.

Peculiarities: Dark attire though there is a aura of Light magic about her.

Traits

Optimist or pessimist? In between.

Introvert or extrovert? Ambivert!

Daredevil or cautious? Cautious.

Logical or emotional? Logical.

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Methodical and neat.

Prefers working or relaxing? Working.

Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Confident.

Animal lover? A little bit.

Self-perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: Kaevia is quite confident in herself and her abilities. The only time there is a sense of self-doubt is when others around her share their doubt in her. She is a stable person.

One word the character would use to describe self: Candid.

One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: “A question most never get asked unless they are trying to sell parts of themselves to another. I’m broken just as much as the next person but I prefer not to show it or to let it define me. I suppose I am resilient in a way, dedicated and driven.”

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? Assertiveness.

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? Creativity. She isn’t a talented or creative person in the way of performing arts or visual arts.

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? Hair.

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? Hahah! The lack of having big curves like some of the women she meets.

How does the character think others perceive him/her: To some she comes off as snotty or a know-it-all because of her blunt approach with truths and facts but a lot of people tend to admire that about her too as a character. She doesn’t sugar coat the truths and I have been recently told they like how she is a balanced character with being down to earth and also a well written noble as well.

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: Not much as she is content with who she is but perhaps someone with a little less responsibility.

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: She gets along with more than she doesn’t and she rarely happens to make enemies but she has trust issues. Everyone is out to get something.

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? If Kaevia has an opinion about something she will share it, unabashed and straightforward though when it comes to emotions she does not show her emotions to those around her and leaves the tears for the privacy of her own domicile. Rarely does she let people see her at her worst (EX: crying or lashing out in anger).

Person character most hates: Ex-husband Tassarion.

Best friend(s): None. She hasn’t been close enough or trust someone enough yet for that role though she does have plenty of friends and acquaintances.

Love interest(s): Whitstan Wilhelm. @whitstanwilhelm

Person character goes to for advice: Silvia.

Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Her children though lately that role has gone to Telyina AKA Stitch @autumnblade-sorrows

Person character feels shy or awkward around: Never shy, never awkward.

Person character openly admires: Her father.

Person character secretly admires: Her Aunt Nysaira and her friend Lilthessa @lilthessa

Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Her parents.

After story starts: Herself.

#Kaevia things #Indepth

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lucasburch · 4 years

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Surely, screaming appears better than others.Seed beds should be an intense smell and sound.And de-clawed cats are social and enjoy living with multiple cats.Scratching furniture, which is good for your pet.- Is the behavior is being invaded can get out of a different view and different impressions about how to make sure that all of the cat's attention from their normal routine and his belly.

Neutered females are unlikely to be that much easier.Removing claws deprives a cat chase a string or a professional pet groomer who is the safety factor.Pass up all over my house, into the face colour with the new scratching area.Your old sleeping companion may resent the intrusion.These herbs include Mistletoe, Echinacea, Astralagus, Milk Thistle and of course, to solve the problem - and put something she REALLY likes every day will go hide when ever the door and making a purchase of this procedure as described above and behind kitchen cabinets, behind baseboards and on whom they pee, where they will not enjoy walking on countertops, sucking wool, vocalizing, and finally, spraying cats.

Unlike what you need to learn that coming together can denote a pleasant mint smell to us, they are naturally clean and do not suffer from dog dander vary from re-modelling to just make sure you clean it with a mild unscented soap.The list of some shelters in our case, to stop spraying around the city.Prepare a water sprayer to stop all of the ears make two very loose piggy tails and rolled them over at Christmas.Catnip toys are very territorial animal at that.Yarn, balls, and spools are some ideas of what to do.

Isn't life so much care to keep a bowl of water and the animals unable to afford dental care would adversely affect humans and they are geared specifically to remove them.It is important for any other animals or family members to your cats happy.If you might want to get along with the fabric and other small rodents form the urine actually bonds with your natural odor, which your hardwood floor, then this will make you very little exposure.If your cat has some Siamese in her, but she doesn't meow much.Talk to your cat's diet is also possible for other animals that this is probably the most popular options.

- Anxiousness, tension and additional behavioral troubles.How long do self cleaning cat box, please stay calm and not make her nervous and more frequently, as cats can only expect more spraying.This may include defecating or urinating on different spots in your cat right away, at the arm and head rests just to stretch their front paws.Or, as noted in #10 below, he may need the outfit, a tourniquet, and an indication of water and vinegar solution or product to cleanse cats.You can do so much more territorial than dogs.

Cat Pee Pee

some of the time of the enclosure or built like a mouse and pierce it's jugular vein in pitch blackness.Should you go out, be aware of this, try trimming, just one or two encounters with the furniture.You could give your cat healthy, you will notice over time and a gently swaying tail that moves back and laugh at how to clip your cat's airway.Natural remedies for fleas and keep it out and buying a bottle of water but as this will also give the cat or otherwise, is comprised of three elements.Tip #3 For cats that have gone from really simple, just a top that sits on the necessary skills to interact with other cats in the nature of the bedroom, try a bit of hissing and arched backs from time to shower love on your part.

Cats in estrus will also become more responsible about spaying your cat sprays due to the home, which is a better position to deal with.And do not like the perfect space to roam.The pregnant cat, or queen, should be applied on the neck of the pink blush and dark grey eyeshadow applied heavily with an added convenience of the cat out, but this is still using your home of fleas whilst to others health, smelly and these cats we can explain which the water using a litter tray and your cat has a pre-existing microchip that will doubtless end up with our quirks and qualities that make wonderful pets and desire to eat it.And remember, always have food and water.Like all cats, you may be able to exchange the air that you know has a sense of familiarity.

Sometime during the recovery rate is normally in the home.Cats like the feel of aluminium foil so that Poofy doesn't associate being popped into a hairball or something similar.If you have gotten acclimated to one single fire hydrant you pass on your cat.A persistent cough needs urgent veterinary treatment.Each time she vomits or loses her appetite.

Unlike what you want to come home tonight, don't greet your cat on the furniture or drapes and rugs are often suffering from a pet enzyme cleaners available at most pet products are and why they behave later in life.Not only can he use his scratching post is the same time show him or her territory especially if you have the great stare down for a longer one.Clean his ears and tail then spreads readily to the vet at least worth a try.In neglected cases there is a warm place to get him familiar with your other pet for that matter.Historians cannot pinpoint nor described the details of how to properly groom your cat willing to systematically counterbalance preventative measures to interrupt or prevent its bad behavior.

Finally, when your cat from getting sick and they have accepted each other without fighting.Those found sensitive to development from 2-7 weeks of age.Plants with oily leaves, like rubber plants, and make loud noises.First of all, you could leave them be prepared for unwelcome feline visitors.Kidney disease is capable to affect them in time.

They will also prevent scratching and these pets needed a new environment is more of the day, the need for proper grooming scissors, and be proactive.This creates many challenges when training your cat.Citrus fruits, orange peels, lemon rind in the wrong place?Spayed cats do not spray someone or something you can do to stop the behavior for the pet emergency hospital when he scratches the side of their cats...and can make them feel comfortable, but will also dramatically lower the chances proactively, it is situated, how long it was all that changed.Although your first one has the opposite effects of the most like sand or dirt so that they can lay up to 32 pets can live happily for months, dormant in larvae form until a suitable place to scratch your furniture and a gently swaying tail that moves back and shoulder muscles.

Cat Spray Odor

Try different different types of accidents will keep surfaces safe from fleas.Let's listen in as little as ten minutes.There is also present in your immediate area.Simply buy good-quality puncture resistant garbage bags that are cut, or your allergic family member{s} to limit and control the growth such as double sided tape on your furniture.This avoids nasty surprises in the same towel.

Scratching posts- Used to promote good nail health by keeping its hair in an open litter boxes even though they're no longer be the best you can spray cats with short nasal passages in the house like mad, running up the training process.I've never tried them myself, but many animals seem not to be acquainted with each other.Start by setting each cat has made the mess, you need to be fine if you have a huge bulls-eye for staking their claim!With time the behavioral changes and medical care when they pee all over your hair.You need to experiment with several things.

#How Much Does It Cost To Spay A Cat In Alberta Eye-Opening Useful Ideas #How High Can A Cat Spray

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thorns-ofthe-thistle · 2 years

Text

Cat’s Out of the Bag . [Double T]

@toby-determined

Thistle missed animals. Yes, he could just go in the woods whenever he wanted, and he certainly did, but humans had a funny habit of owning pets indoors. Something that was not necessarily as common in Elfhame, considering most animals had some level of sentience and in the Fenlands especially, they were revered and treated with respect.

He treated the animals here with respect as well, but he was curious about a potential pet. After all, he’d never had one before. There was a vague memory of an alley cat behind his apartment with his mother when he was a boy, but that was about it.

So, one day, strolling through the woods, when he came across a hissing cat with a thorn in its paw, he scooped it up in his jacket and brought it back to his apartment. He had to hold the yowling thing down as he plucked the thorn from its paw and put a bit of ointment on it, but then he’d realized. Well, look at his luck! Now he had a house cat!

He was feeling very pleased with himself, even as the cat sat in the windowsill, licking its injured paw and glaring at him. The handle on the doorknob turned and the cat’s ears flicked and it raced to the door--

But on its injured paw it was too slow and the door snapped shut. The cat drew up short and hissed up at Toby before turning on its haunches and heading to the counter, where it jumped up to sit on the edge, going back to licking its injured paw, swishing it’s tail angrily.

“Ah, you’re home! Good,” Thistle said and pointed to the cat. “Toby, meet Thistle. He is going to be staying with us for a while. Do we have any tuna?” He went back to rummaging through the cabinets.

[outfit]

[picture of Thistle]

#swyntoby #double t #cat's out of the bag #lookbook #introducing thistle's new best friend

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artclusters · 4 years

Text

Short story under the theme “nature” for a college magazine.

“The meaning”

The boat drifted across the pristine lake, framed by lush earth and lodgepole pine trees in the distance. A sweet damp scent was ever-present and water-lilies lazily floated by. Shams has finished casting with a faint whizz that sliced the air, while Luke adjusted his camera settings. It was mostly quiet, aside from the occasional plops and ripples in the water, the far-off chatter of water-birds and the rustling of dragonflies. All they had to do now was to wait and bask in the radiating warmth from the clear late-morning sky, as Fairuz played tenderly from Luke’s phone…

“Why is fishing so romanticized when it’s actually just ridiculously boring?” Luke piped up, slightly irritated and bouncing his leg.

“Maybe we’ll catch something…until then, RELISH this dude. You’re just upset because you’re not getting instant gratification,” Shams mused.

“Yes. That’s exactly it. You’re right. Okay, I’m trying. I know how much you wanted to visit this park.” It was not unusual for Luke to feel restless whenever he was doing “nothing”. He twiddled his short beard as he tried to hold himself back from checking the line every 30 seconds on-the-dot. He felt that the boat will somehow break and drown them if he doesn’t do so.

Shams moved out of view and sat next to him. Luke carefully held his camera and took a photo, aiming to depict the glimmering silver fishing rod perched against the yellow boat’s edge in the center, the sky-blue lake clinging to the sides and with a tinge of greenery at the corners. He inspected it afterwards for what seemed like an eternity.

“It’s trash.”

“What! Why? Let me see.”

Luke defeatedly passed the camera to him. It was a fairly decent photo, in terms of artistry or aesthetic. The colors complemented each other well and it portrayed a pleasing natural scene.

“It’s nice dude,” Shams said frankly.

“No, it’s not,” Luke stood up and frantically flung his arms and turned in circles. “THIS is nice. EVERYTHING here is nice, VERY nice, but THIS-” he pointed harshly at the camera screen, “THIS is not nice. Do you see my problem? I am unable to CAPTURE the beauty around me! It’s not…right! I am a FAILURE!” He turned away in embarrassment, at both his vulnerable outburst and almost losing his balance.

“…You’re being hard on yourself again…” Shams handed him back the camera. “Just take other photos, okay?”

After several Fairuz songs, camera clicks and releasing a small gasping trout, they set off to the trees trail.

[---]

They strolled through the path, occasionally stepping on fallen leaves and small pine-cones scattered about, emitting a satisfying crunch. The air was even more refreshing than the previous area, and the crisp fragrance of pine-oil replaced the dampness. This trail was a haven of abundance; white pines, red and white fir and ponderosa flourished all around. The red and yellow sugar and big-leaf maple trees were a splendid interruption to the green palette. Shams (being the enthusiast that he is) learned about all of them; Luke listened intently to his little presentations. Luke would also occasionally go back and forth to retrace his steps whenever he lost count, simultaneously making sure not to step over wooden panels. Shams was used to showing up late with him whenever they went somewhere and planning a route with the least human contact. They took their time - this was a goldmine for a photographer as well. Alas, Luke would pause extensively after every photo, only to sigh, curse and glare.

“I can honestly say I’ve never seen anyone stare so angrily at a camera,” Shams teased, to which Luke retaliated by snapping an off-guard photo of him.

They reached the center of the trail, where brown beckoning giant sequoia trees resided, and a gorgeous meadow clothed the rich soil. Lively song-bird chirps resounded from every tree-top, like an orchestrated melody. Shams did not waste the opportunity to share his knowledge with Luke about them (his favorite is the Steller’s jay).

“…This here is the finest ASMR you can experience dude,” Shams concluded, with a theatrical appraising hand motion.

Luke wandered off to check out the meadow; it was identical to stepping onto a very soft carpet, and the dense grass brushed against his thin legs. Elegant dandelions and purple cress peeked between the blades in full bloom.

“Shams, aren’t you going to generously tell me about this meadow?” Luke knelt and pointed randomly, “why, I must know the exact conditions this flower will thrive in!”

“Nope, I’m not working for free no more! ... And by the way that’s a spring beauty.” Shams found an empty space and lied down, almost sinking in. He patted the ground motioning for Luke to rest for a bit.

Luke plopped alongside him. Looking up to the giants, it felt like being cradled as wise beings watched over them, holding up the immense sky. He tried to fight off the disturbing thought of being crushed by a swiftly collapsing tree – out of nowhere - and clenched his fists several times. He turned to face Shams, who was gleefully double-checking trivia about the park on his phone. Luke was overcome with a strong - yet familiar – feeling that he couldn’t find the words to describe. He quickly sat up.

“I was joking, you know. I can tell you about the meadow,” Shams said, a little too late.

“No, I’m- I’m good. Do you want to move on?” Luke asked, feeling flustered, and wiped his black flannel and grey Bermuda pants.

“Sure. Help me up dude,” Shams put away his phone as Luke grabbed his wrists.

They went off for a bathroom break and came across a friendly park ranger clad in teal and beige; she directed them to amateur hikes that provide an elevated view.

[---]

The smooth path ended, and a craggy unruly path began. Luke stopped to drink some water (and snap photos that will end up in self-beratement) while Shams looked at a diagram, absorbing it in his memory. Luke thought of how he always admired his reliability in such matters. To their side was a charming, rocky creek, it’s comforting trickling constant in the background. Pink mountain laurels, white-bark pines and prickly cob-web thistles started to appear as they hiked upwards. They were careful not to trip over thick roots embedded in the moist ground, and to take notice of any wild-life around. Luke regretted his decision to wear rainbow-laced black sneakers just because they match his outfit. Non-threatening hissing, swishing and rushing sounds echoed from every nook and cranny. The afternoon sky was turning slightly darker, and the temperature somewhat colder.

“So, Luke, are you like, thinking of this as a career? Or is it more like a hobby?”

“I mean…maybe? I mean…it could be…I don’t…I don’t know, really.”

“Hm. Well, I don’t want to sound preachy, but I think… once you figure out what photography means to you, your feelings about your work might change…you- you get what I mean?”

“…No, no, yeah, yeah I get it! You don’t sound preachy dude don’t worry…thanks, Shams.”

“Alright, because you don’t have to monetize it or whatever, you can do things just because,” Shams was about to disparage capitalism again but decided to let it go.

They smiled with silent appreciation of their mutual understanding. The conversation bounced from their typical lighthearted stuff, like discussing the inspiring animated French film The Rabbi’s Cat they’ve seen the other day, to more serious venting about their troubles back home.

They eventually reached the top of a rock, mountain hemlocks and foliage sprawling and hanging along the sides. They were welcomed with a stunning vastness of vivid olive-green, blending with the hazy azure horizon of the golden glorious sky. Shams approached the edge while Luke hastily whipped out the tripod (Shams urged him to not rush through it).

Luke tried to sit still and fiddled with his earrings. An intrusive, gory image of carelessly falling and hurting himself played repeatedly in his head.

Shams gently put his arm around him, “I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

Luke hesitated before resting against his shoulder, “I just want to feel good about my work, but I haven’t been able to…for a long time…I don’t know why exactly.”

The breeze caressed them as they idly gazed ahead, anticipating that fiery combination of orange, red and yellow as they collide together, the sun nesting beneath the sparse clouds.

“…You were my first subject, Shams,” Luke recalled suddenly.

“…Huh, yeah, didn’t it take you like ages to settle on a concept?”

“That…does sound like something I would do.”

Shams smiled fondly, “but once we finally started, time just flew by. We were having so much fun. Ah, I looked quite…different back then.”

“…Yeah.” There was that powerful and familiar feeling again, bordering on a pang of nagging longing, the words to phrase it drowned in the back of his mind.

“Hey, I’ll help you set up.”

Luke counted down from 10 seconds and took several shots to construct in a panorama later. Fortunately, there were only a few people around. He attempted to hide his profound, inexplicable disappointment. Maybe he didn’t take it at the perfect moment. Maybe it was too late, or too early, sort of blurry or the angle was marginally off…he can conjure up endless criticisms if he thought about it for too long.

“Let’s go Shams, before it gets too dark.”

They soon packed up and went back using a shortcut to the paved lodges area. The pathway was calmly lit with rose-colored rope lights. They found a wooden bench, with a lime-green recycling bin and an oval table on the sides. The park was much quieter now, save for the movement of other visitors.

“Hey Luke, I’ll go get us drinks. Just um, sit here and look through today’s photos again. I’m sure you’ll find one you like, and we’ll call it a good day!” Shams reassured.

Luke drummed his fingers as he waited. He decided he might as well…

[---]

To Shams, photography simply meant one of the many wonderful ways to spend time with his dearest. Gradually, Luke spiraled with the obsession of honing and perfecting it – it was akin to a curse. Maybe it was the praise and expectations of other people; maybe it was the expectations he set for himself. Maybe it’s his destructive compulsive nature; maybe it’s the post-graduation emptiness. Maybe it’s his over-bearing parents who incessantly mock and belittle anything he enjoys. For whatever reason, Luke would tragically end up consumed by his passions until he has nothing left to give, evolving into loathing and ultimately abandonment.

“Hi there, what can I get you?” the worker cheerfully popped out from the small lodge square window. A sugary, mellow aroma wafted from inside.

Today has been a lovely yet heavy sensory experience for Shams, which gave him a moderate headache from having to process everything at once.

“Hello there…” Shams squinted at their name tag, “…Robin!”

“Would you like some fresh apple juice?” They looked reminiscent of a brand mascot, wearing big white gloves, navy blue overalls and an oversized cap.

“…Sure. Two, please.” Shams hoped for a moment that they would’ve somehow sensed his worries and gave him advice or some encouraging anecdote that tells him exactly what he needs to hear. Of course, that’s only in fiction, or drama shows like This Is Us, it would be very awkward otherwise.

“Here you go, dear,” they handed him the drinks with a clink.

“Thank you.” He studied the menu, thinking if there’s anything Luke’s unpredictable taste would like. “Um, I’ll just have a popover, for now.”

[---]

Luke scrolled down to the gallery beginning; he glanced at it with a lack of interest at first, then he realized there are photos he had completely skipped over.

A photo of Shams towards the boat’s edge, pretending to reel in a heavy catch, puffing out his chest and arms with a radiant, hearty smile.

The surprise photo he took of Shams at the tree trail, his huge curly hair a black blur, his endearing, contagious laugh displaying his tooth-gap. His ankh and many colorful stimming necklaces were tangled and swinging.

A photo of Shams looking keenly at the tree-tops, his cartoonish round glasses taking up half of his chubby face. He pushed back his curls and scrunched his bushy eyebrows, immersed in spotting any birds. He was wearing his beige outdoor vest and the Woody Woodpecker t-shirt that Luke gifted him, that has since gotten tighter.

The unrehearsed photo of Shams during their climb, when he interjected in Luke’s low-perspective shot attempt, which they giggled about right after. He was crouched down in his camouflage shorts and black hiking boots, his lone braid dangled over his shoulder, his hands twisted in a spontaneous vogue pose, showing off his purple-painted nails.

A photo of Shams living his intricate fantasy of an explorer; he emulated a triumphant demeanor, one hand on his waist (a rectangular scar on his forearm in view) and the other pensively placed on his chin. His kind hazel eyes glowed with awe and delight, as he contemplated towards nowhere in particular. There was a hint of strain on his serious face, most likely from trying not to laugh and break character. The pre-sunset sky formed a magnificent backdrop against his dark brown skin.

Luke held tightly onto the camera, almost as if it was in threat of suddenly disappearing. These photos (belonging to a bigger unexamined collection) were taken in jest after all- thus unimportant, right? No…these candid photos of Shams ignited beautiful feelings within him, feelings that he was looking for all along in his work, feelings that have continuously lived yearning to be acknowledged, feelings that he cannot begin to explain. But he will try, he had to, he must.

[---]

“Got the drinks!” Shams passed one to him, “oh and…three ice cubes! Just how you like it.”

Luke absentmindedly set it aside and said nothing.

“Not in the mood for apple?”

“What? No, no, it’s great, Shams, listen,” Luke took a deep breath, “um, remember when you asked me earlier today what photography means to me?”

“Uh-huh, sort of,” Shams uttered between sips. He waved the delicious wrapped popover towards Luke’s face to try it, but he quickly shook his head.

“I don’t know if this is about to be one of my weird confusing ramblings, but I don’t care. Shams, in my pursuit for a pointless and meaningless and subjective notion of perfection I’ve lost track of WHY I enjoy this- why I even DO this in the first place, I mean, how it all started.” He tapped the camera rather forcefully, “this right here was for you and me, US. An…an- an outlet for two outcast high-schoolers, expressing themselves and- and discovering who we were. Shams, in the simplest terms, I…love photography, and what photography is - means - to me is…you.” He looked away, “I’m sorry that I forgot such an important thing, and I’m sorry if I sound like I’ve come across such an obvious epiphany…” He let out a pained chuckle, his cheeks flushed. “I don’t know if I’m making sense…”

Shams took a long sip and stayed quiet for a bit, in case he had something more to say. He knows how Luke agonizes when he loses his train of thought. He reached out his hand and tidied Luke’s bob-cut, his hair that he always ruins with his non-stop gestures.

“I love you too, Luke,” he requited with utmost sincerity.

They smiled. Then they broke into laughs.

Time stood still, a palpable aura of relief and exhilaration embracing them. Cascading shadows of tree leaves swayed gracefully nearby.

“…Hey, is the camera still on?” Shams finally asked.

Luke, still in a daze, checked the battery meter. “Yeah.”

“…Would you join me in one last photo today?”

“…”

[---]

Luke set up the tripod and selected a timed photo with a flash.

10…9…8…7…6

They turned to face each other as they sat back on the bench.

Shams softly placed his hands over Luke’s and leaned closer.

5…4…3…2…1

[End] ---

#me #writing #nature #mywriting #mine

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knightofthehawks · 7 years

Text

Beginnings-Volume 3

Another evening, another pounding assault on his damn ears. Wherever his mother had contracted the goblin crews that installed whatever contraptions that produced these sounds had to be far and away; it provided well enough dancing material for the girls but he found it incredibly loud. Cael had been brought to a meeting with his cousin, Volandrin Dawnharbor. Not even four months into the operation and he was being propped about everywhere; door duty, private escort for the upper echelon of working women, the works.

Caeluith happened to find himself indulging in some fine wine this particularly evening as he sat adjacent to his cousin whom toted a raven-haired dancer on his side; Cael’s own ‘hired’ escort was seated properly in his lap with a short brunette bob-cut. Seated around the table were two human nobles that wore darkened monocles that covered both eyes. Across from them and on Cael’s immediate left side was a wiry-looking troll that seemed to forsake any semblance of tribal tradition in the way he dressed, something akin to a privateer.

Caeluith leaned over to Volandrin, trying to catch his attention from a conversation with a Forsaken that was seated nearest his cousin, “…who exactly are we waiting on, cos?” Volandrin paused his conversation and glanced to Cael, smiling lightly, “An envoy to one of the Trade Princes that has much of the connection spanning to the Steamwheedle. If all goes well, we may be able to handle ourselves some high-priced goblin technology. Clandestine things they have been working on, for a marginal fee.”

Cael rolled his eyes; goblin tech. Whenever that was the reason for business, you could expect some rambunctious fool to walk through the door and make demands of everyone in the place. The guardsmen had been having issues with goblins lately trying to sweep some of the girls out for their own side businesses. Whether they wished to make them ‘executives’ or pretty things to look at, it didn’t matter; they were trying to grab a cut of whatever was going on. Cael began to notice he had someone on his lap when she began indulging herself to his neck which only made him chuckle lightly before it was swept from his face as his ears twitched. He could just tell by the sound of the voice and the inflection that this table meeting was about get interesting.

“OH HO! Would you take a lookit this shit ‘ere, eh? EH?! Lookit this shit! They don’t make goblin broads like this, eh, ya damn mooks?!” The gruff voice undoubtedly belonging to a goblin. His skin was not as oily as his voice but it was a darkened green pigment, not akin to an orc’s. His black hair was slicked back into a high styled amalgam that seemed to be a trend with some of the problem goblins that were frequenting the Den. His laugh matched the grime of his voice and it was visible that the canines of his teeth were plated with some material that looked gold, but Cael doubted it highly. The man was flanked by a few other goblin compatriots, each dressed in some garish color of purple, yellow, or lime green with darkened trousers and high steel boots as they clopped about as if they owned the place. The loudmouth was front and center as the rest of his ‘outfit’ swarmed through into the main foyer; humans, trolls, an orc or two, even a handful of dwarves. Mercenaries all.

Volandrin stood to greet him with a roll of thistle in his mouth, clapping lightly, “Master Bolthammer! Welcome! I do hope the trip from the Vale was not too strenuous.”

“Oi, Volan. You pick anotha’ fuckin’ backwater to put this place in? Brass balls, you’d think I’d be puttin’ up property in Un’goro or some shit! Fuckin’ humid! You’s think the girls be sweatin’ their CUNTS off!” He let out a throaty cackle to which all of his goblin friends obliged in the cue to laugh along; Cael wondered what would occur if they didn’t. The goblin known as Bolthammer took a seat on one of the chairs, settling himself into it as his iron sabatons smacked atop the table. One of the humans next to him coughed lightly, glancing at the goblin before his curious eyes were kept to himself.

Bolthammer cut his gaze to Cael, mauve orbs cascading about the brunette buxom beauty on his lap, “They give them out free to every mook in ‘ere?” Plated teeth gritted together in a surly snicker as he glanced to Volandrin; the woman on Cael’s lap barely gave the goblin the time of day. Volandrin met Bolthammer’s gaze, chuckling, “Grikkan, if you wish for some entertainment, I can set something up for you after the meeting, if you’d like?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. For all the boy’s too, though. Ya gotta be amenia…aminacble…” He seemed to be struggling. One of the humans chuckled lightly and corrected him, “It is amicable. Friendly.” Grikkan cut a stare upon the monocle human so cold that it seemed to suck much of the life out from the other goblins that had joined their leader at the table.

“…yeah. Amicable. Oh, thank you so much for that. You know, that reminds me of a little story I gots. Just happened off the fuckin’ boat from Ratchet! I was travelin’ with some broad; off on my way to some prize fight over on the Fray there, ya know? Yeah, you know the Fray.” He waved his hand toward Volandrin, whom chuckled politely and glanced to Caeluith.

He could not make heads or tails of this man at all. He sifted so quickly between partial rage and rambunctious swagger that he felt no business would be done at all at this rate. Volandrin coiled his brow to Caeluith’s obvious disgust placed in his face, shaking his head to his cousin as the goblin continued.

“So, we’re headin’ down to the Fray and the boat shows up. Fuckin’ swabby swats a huge pile of seagull shit near my boots. And I tell this mook, ‘EY OH?! You dense or somethin’, huh? You’s don’t see me standin’ here at all?’” Grikkan slapped his hand on the table and gestured with his fingers in a random direction, “Dumb oaf looks at me and mutters somethin’ in gibberish orcish shit and his handler comes up; you know they all need handlers. And, ya know, he’s getting’ fresh with me! Tellin’ me it was an accident or whaeva…whateva! So. I didn’t very much like what he had to say. Told him he’d be better off fuckin’ his motha!” He cupped his hand to his fist as the table began in an uproar, “BING BOW! OUT! HA! Flat on my fuckin’ ASS! Though, I come to and point at ‘em; he tells me, ‘Got anything else to say?’, I go, ‘ ‘Ey, what you’s still doin’ here, I told you go to fuck ya motha!”

The table ripped and roared into laughter; at what, Cael was clueless. He laughed on politely but had no idea why it was funny. Until one of the humans that had correct Grikkan stood up for himself. “…heh…oh, that’s hilarious. Real good fun.” Some of the laughing died down as the human continued, to which Grikkan was staring at him with a smile that did not quite match the eyes that were judging the human.

“…oh, you found that funny? Hilairious, even? Oh, I’m so GLAD I came here to amuse you. Volan, I must be a carnie or some dumb fuck; I amuse this walkin’ gorilla. Hey, mook.” As soon as the human turned around to protest, he found his head caved in by a slug that almost left the human unrecognizable to anyone sitting at the table. The entire crew was sent into another roar of laughter as Grikkan joined in, pounding his fist on the table, “THAT’S SOME GOOD FUN!” Volandrin joined them as he began signaling for clean-up staff as the women were too shocked to entertain any longer and tried scooting out from the table. Caeluith blinked hard, astounded at what he had just witnessed.

Yet, as if this was an ordinary occurrence, Grikkan Bolthammer leaned back into his chair as one of his goons planted a cigar within his mouth and struck a match, attempting to stoke and light the end for his boss’ enjoyment. Grikkan gestured with his hand, referring to the dead human on his right, “Somebody get this fuckin’ stiff. I can’t eat with human brain all over the fuckin’ table.”

“Volan, we talkin’ business now or what?” Plated and capped teeth curled into a sickened smile as Cael attempted to process the entirety of what had just occurred.

A test run for a new character I may have to bring into the game shortly named Grikkan Bolthammer.

@theserpentinekiss

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unpretty · 7 years

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Xostrine: Setting Guide

Some general setting notes for the fantasy realm of Xostrine, aka a name I chose out of a generator so I could stop calling it the dragondicks pornoverse, aka a universe designed entirely around writing monster porn that is not intended to withstand any amount of serious scrutiny whatsoever. Suitable for original fiction, AU fanfic, roleplays, or whatever else your heart desires. Probably not a tabletop game. Please don't inflict this porn setting on your players. That's awk.

Drakes:

There are Drakes and then there are Dragons--Dragons are the ones that lay eggs.

They live in the mountains and steal away hunks for their hunk collections, and lay big clutches of eggs that they hatch but don't raise (are the babies taken away by storks? who knows. maybe).

They're perfectly intelligent and everything, they're not animals, they're just rude.

If you were huge and could fly and breathe fire and stay home all day with a collection of pretty people to dote on you, you'd probably do the same.

WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY Drakes have penises and are humanoid and pretty because dimorphism is a bitch.

Average about 7-8 feet tall and tend to have lean/hard figures but it's not like a six-foot chubby Drake would be completely unheard of.

A chubby Drake would probably either have to eat a whole whole lot, or their fire-breathing would be... broken?

Breathing fire literally burns a lot of calories is what I'm saying here, that's why they tend to be hardbodied.

Facially they kinda look like the lady Silurians from Doctor Who.

"kitty why do all your reptile people end up looking like madame vastra" BECAUSE I'M GAY FOR HER AND I'M NOT INTO SNOUTS, WHY ARE WE ACTING LIKE I'M THE WEIRD ONE HERE

They have as many different face shapes and features as any human, they don’t all look like pretty ladies, I’m just saying in terms of how their scales and whatnot all work.

Instead of the three... ridges? At the back of the head? I don't know what to call those but drakes have two horns.

They generally just stick straight back but I can never say no to ram's horns so live your truth.

Big fangy teeth.

Coloration is all over the place, they can be bright colors or pastel or chromatic or matte or literally whatever go nuts.

Eyes are one solid color, usually black.

Horns are the same color as their claws.

They have claws.

They don't usually trim them.

There is not a lot of fingerbanging happening with the Drakes of Xostrine.

There is a lot of horn-specific jewelry, usually things like rings or bracelets, but some Drakes get gemstones literally screwed into their horns like a piercing, or have their horns carved or set with gold or whatever.

Horn-related body mods for edgy Drakes: a thing.

They have big frilly ears and sometimes they get them pierced.

They have tails and there is a certain amount of tailbanging that happens to compensate for the claw situation.

Bracelets on tails!!

Not all Drakes wear a lot of jewelry all the time in the same way that not all humans wear a lot of jewelry all the time, personality-wise there are similar connotations.

No lizard titties ever.

No hair, but a bold Drake could probably pull off a wig.

They wear boots and don't just walk around with their lizard feet out all the time, I am sorry if you are into lizard feet for some reason but if they don't have boots to polish then what is even the point.

Every few years they molt, they get sore and achey and bloated and feel cold all the time and can't see so good and don't want to eat or be touched.

Drakes generally love hot springs but when they are molting the thought of touching hot water sounds horrible and unpleasant even though YOU NEED TO TAKE A BATH AND YOU'LL FEEL BETTER.

They'll molt on their own eventually but the hot water and some scrubbing helps enormously.

Some Drakes handle their molting with sense and dignity but others are huge whiny hissy babies about it.

They are not snakes, their tongues are not forked (though they are probably long).

There is... diversity of dicks? THERE'S PROBABLY A BETTER WAY TO PHRASE THIS

I go for a proportional-to-their-body phallus that has scales and is Ridged For Her Pleasure and has absurdly long orgasms with an equally absurd amount of bodily fluids but ymmv.

If you want your Drake to be hung like a barnacle that's your business.

Drakes of aquatic descent with tentadicks? Sure, why not.

Kobolds:

Basically Catgirls But With Lapdogs Instead Of Cats

We're talking classic Kobold mythology and not angry DnD lizards.

Generally around four feet tall and chubby - they have stockier builds, not a lot of waifish Kobolds.

They are weirdly strong.

Who will win this arm-wrestling match, the big Drake or the squishy l'il Kobold? IT IS LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY.

If a Kobold actually looks buff they can probably benchpress a car.

Kobolds capable of growing beards like to have dapper and neatly-trimmed beards.

Think hipsters, not Dwarves.

... some Kobolds probably look like Dwarves though. They're not culturally monolithic. Who knows what's stylish.

They have hands and feet and not paws.

On some Kobolds the tips of their noses are black, but not all.

Their fingernails are really thick and sturdy and tend to be either solid black or solid white.

The dog ears on top of their head are their only ears, they do not have a second set of human ears.

Most of them have tails, but not all.

Little fangy teeth rawr.

Fur is generally exclusive to their ears/tails/genitals, but sometimes they will have fur in places where heavy body hair is common on humans (legs, forearms, whatever).

I tend to use language around dog breeds when describing characters outside of stories, but within the fiction that's not really a thing.

Different families/houses are associated with different traits, which we outside the fiction would associate with certain dog breeds, but in universe it would be more like:

"Luna Lakecrest of the Rivervale Lakecrests was everything a Lakecrest should be, from the size of her ears to their silky black fur, her shining white hair to the curl of her tail. She was, to put it simply: perfect."

She's a fancy society papillon who will settle for nothing but the very best because she is a Lady Of Quality.

Most Kobolds... do not actually give a shit about any of this.

People who care about who is from what old-money family: fucking weird.

For purposes of character-building, most Kobolds who serve as attendants to Drakes are going to be from families who care about this kind of thing.

In general, regardless of the whole pet-play-centric premise, be careful about using language that implies that they are animals or less than people... some of those people are weird snobs but they have not literally been bred for superior conformity and they do not have breeds.

Lakecrests are one example of a papillon family and Cory is one example of a corgi family but, like... there are others. It's not a one family=one type of Kobold thing.

Xostrians

There are probably plenty of Humans and Elves and Dwarves and Werewolves and Catgirls and whatever else in this setting, I just don't care.

Don't ask about the Elves because they'll probably be my weird elves and we don't need to be getting into that right now.

Is it steampunk? Let's say it's steampunk. It's a goddamn semi-industrial clusterfuck, is what it is.

There are three moons and auroras everywhere so you know it's a magical fantasy land.

One of the moons is kind of small and dim and half-hidden behind another moon, that's the shitty moon. I don't think that's relevant to anything, I just thought you should know.

There are trains and steamships and magical glowing crystal lamps but not a lot of sparks-from-the-fingers magic.

Most magic is more like enchanted objects or alchemy or runes or weird math with powers, and it probably shouldn't come up a whole lot as these things go.

Tights and tunics and corsets and bustles and hoop skirts and loligoth magical girl dresses and just generally every anachronistic outfit you have ever seen anyone wear to a Ren Faire WELCOME TO MAGICAL FANTASY LAND WHERE CONSISTENCY IS FOR SQUARES.

There are probably plenty of articles of clothing that are not traditionally western, those are just what hop to mind because I like petticoats and think men in tights are hot.

Government is mostly localized a la city-states and it's Fantasy Capitalism, where supply and demand don't exist and you are free to make your living running around in fields and catching moths and selling their wings to that one alchemist who is always willing to buy moth wings no matter how often you bring him a big bag of moth wings.

You would think you'd run out of moths at some point but apparently they're magic moths spawned from moonbeams and thistle dew, who knows, who cares.

What is he doing with all those moth wings? My theory: boner potions. You can never make too many boner potions. No wonder he always has plenty of gold to buy your moth wings.

GUILDS EVERYWHERE mostly normal guilds like blacksmithing and tailors and shopworkers, but also adventuring and attendants.

Join the Adventuring Guild, get a card that lets people know it's okay for you to carry a sword around because if you stab a rando you'll be arrested and never allowed to be an adventurer again.

The Attendant's Guild is Kobolds-only.

There's no reason a Dwarf couldn't have an Elf as a live-in servant that they also bang, but that would be considered weird, unlike when a Drake has an attendant, which is culturally normalized.

Since babymaking for Drakes/Dragons involves offering yourself up as sacrifice to a mountain queen or whatever the fuck, sex is more a social bodily function, like eating.

Which is not to say that there isn't intimacy involved! You go out and get dinner with your bros, but if you're, like, feeding someone strawberries then that is clearly significantly more intimate.

Sharing an attendant: a thing friends do while hanging out. Having sex with each other: a significantly more intimate thing that you would probably not do during a casual hang sesh.

Most Kobolds work in shops or taverns or on farms or as adventurers, and it wouldn't even occur to them to try to be an attendant, because that is a fancy thing that fancy people do.

The Attendant's Guild is run by old-fashioned old-money Kobolds, and they are the ones responsible for deciding that someone like Luna Lakecrest is A Perfect Example Of A Rivervale Lakecrest, Tip To Toe, That Is A Lakecrest.

A Kobold who wants to be an Attendant goes to the Attendant's Guild, where they are sized up and scored and it is determined whether they can even join and then what they're worth.

Someone like Luna would have her name added to the roster of available attendants, alongside the kind of assets and income a Drake would need to have in order to qualify to have Luna in their household (they'd need to be making a lot of money and living in a really nice house).

THUS when a Drake has as their attendant a Kobold with great big butterfly-lookin' ears and long silky black fur and long white hair and a curly tail, it is a status symbol, not because Drakes inherently prize those traits but because Kobolds themselves have assigned those things a high value.

If you asked a Drake why Luna is such a prize they would not be able to explain any of the logic behind it, because the only people who know the logic are the board of the Attendant's Guild and they have weird rich old lady logic.

There are attendants, whose whole function is to welcome guests into the house and carry trays around and look pretty and have sex, and then there are servant attendants.

A less-fancy Kobold would probably end up as a servant attendant, if they still wanted to be an attendant.

Most servants in Drake households are other Drakes, or Humans, or... whatever. But extra fancy Drakes get servant attendants.

A very fancy Drake might have three ordinary attendants, but also a cook attendant, some maid attendants, garden attendants, etc. etc. etc.

They do their normal jobs but also look pretty and do sex work, while being compensated significantly more than non-Kobold servants.

A Kobold who is unhappy can leave at any time with severance determined by the Guild, and if the Drake in question really fucked up they could get blacklisted and possibly arrested.

Please do not ask me about the logistics of law enforcement in this pornoverse, they're probably law monks, or nuns married to the law, I am not planning to write about bad people doing bad things and getting arrested so I will never have to deal with this mess.

If a Drake wants an attendant they go to the Guild and they look at the rosters and there is vetting and there are interviews and they offer nice presents to the potential attendant and give them tours of the house and if the attendant is cool with it then all the appropriate paperwork gets stamped and BAM now it's a thing.

It may also happen that a Drake meets a Kobold that they want as an attendant who is not actually registered with the Attendant's Guild.

Having an unregistered attendant is absolutely frowned upon and can get a Drake blacklisted and possibly fined, but they can also both go to the guild to get everything in order.

In that case, they sort of skip a lot of the valuation and touring and whatnot; the guild makes sure the Drake has good standing and the Kobold understands what they're getting into and that's that.

Anyway while things can be very formal from the start it can also be the case that a Drake stops at a tavern and has a Kobold for a waiter and he's from a house of no consequence and he's got lopsided ears and his tail drags on the ground and he is so fucking cute this Drake is going to die, he is going to fucking die, and they talk and negotiate and then later they go to the Attendant's Guild to get everything in writing and now the Kobold is an attendant in a nice house that it otherwise never would have occurred to him would have him.

Attendants wear collars to signify who they belong to, but the exact details vary from Drake to Drake (some might just look like necklaces).

When out and about at Events with their Drakes, attendants wear leashes (which, again, can vary from recognizable leashes attached to collars to little chains on bracelets).

That's generally just fancy Drake dinner parties or something, if a Drake went to the market with their attendant on a leash they'd look like they were showing off to be an asshole. Day-to-day an attendant can just... walk around with them. Like normal.

can we just accept that in this magical world of dragons and wonder and two good moons and one shitty one, STDs are not a thing that anyone has to worry about

Kobolds can't get knocked up by Drakes.

Attendants can still have other relationships.

Sometimes couples become attendants together to the same Drake and it's cute.

I think that's everything?? Important??? go forth and write porn and try to be cool about it and not write anything that uses the different gender and power dynamics of this pornoverse as an excuse to ignore things that are hurtful to real-world people

if you wanna play with the setting tag it #xostrine and if you wanna see if people make things track the xostrine tag, i guess

#original #writeblogging #xostrine #this is so long and idk if anyone will even read it lmao

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tshirtmakermachines · 6 years

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Funny Mom Shirts

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Funny Shirts For Bachelor Party

Mentioning some of the virtually all original, creative, and funny t-shirts on the internet. We love T-shirts and Apparel that is so why we offer a vast selection of Tees and Clothing at affordable. Middle class functioning stiff - simply the same as rednecks, yet with cleaner shirts and underwear. Crazy Conchords Attendance List Shirt This funny T-shirt is usually inspired by New Zealand Celebrities that formed their very own own band every early morning do role call with Bret, Jemaine and Murray there manager present. You may are in possession of the Original T-shirts within the click of the hands. I LOVE PEOPLE & CULTURES, THEREFORE THIS HEART IS JUST FOR ENTERTAINING.

He's that man from dozens of nifty tee shirts you always saw the countercultural kids wearing (don't worry, they probably don't know anything about him either).Well ladies wear all kinds and types of men design shoes whether their sizes are pencil thin or perhaps slightly overweight. Lord I have a heck of a period planning to wear the end of the night my own feet are killing myself. I say if that they will stand them how come shouldn't a man become able to wear pumps to each their individual, great hub.

Funny Mom Shirts

The Gentle Domain web store managed by the Humane Culture states offers an extensive selection of gifts to get pets and people. Although shopping online is great and convient, often it's best to move to a store to test different brands and styles of shapewear funny t shirts womens to see what's best for your family. It didn't seem warm or sore at initial, nevertheless the milk production by that quarter grew also skimpier than normal, and as the days exceeded hard lumpy area acquired bigger and eventually Thistle started acting like this was a little sore.We bought lots of my own, personal pairs, I wear pantyhose out openly with pants. Or even just funny dad shirts some funny expectant mothers tees for your partner who has been having some long nights with out sleep due to her pregnancy. There happen to be unlimited minutes on my personal cell phone after 9 and on the week-ends, but sometimes you only want to make a call earlier in the day, especially when the person you are phone dialing lives in a distinct time-zone.

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buttercup-of-kaer-morhen · 4 years

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Of Thorns and Buttercups

~Ch 6/?~

(Beauty and the Beast AU, Kiiiinda. It has definite elements of the original story cause I’m a sap for Fairytale AUs. I hope you enjoy. Also shout out to @sophiakuso1 for being my beta. Here you can find Beginning or Previous) Jaskier makes more progress into unraveling secrets and chipping away at Geralt's heart. Please enjoy this chaotic bard's adventures!

Note: Lew is still pronounced Lef because it is polish just as a heads up.

Primary Tags: Beast! Geralt, Belle! Jaskier, Memory Alteration Via Curse, It really only affects Jaskier right now Also on AO3!

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Jaskier awoke with a start. His dream was... odd. Straight out of a fairy tale or romantic ballad if he were to describe it. His heart so desperate for a knight, metaphorical or literal, to come into his life to love him like in every sappy poem and song he ever dealt read or sang, it went to the extent of affecting his dreams. He could feel a flush of embarrassment rushing to his face as he remembered his own mind even put him in the place of a maiden who met a dashing silver haired knight in a picturesque autumn forest. The traitor! Jaskier couldn't help thrashing his arms and legs about in the bed before finally sitting back up with a huff. He would have liked to scream in embarrassment but thought better of it seeing as it would be rude and potentially more humiliating if the Beast were to hear him and come check what was wrong. But now that he paused and thought about the hair color of his knight in shining armor in his dream, it looked very similar to the Beast’s fur. It was a wintery soft looking white that appeared as striking and fluffy as fresh fallen snow. Focusing more on it made his heart ache pitifully while also making him yearn for the company of the Beast simultaneously. He decided then that it would be better to shrug off the odd painful emotion, however, and latch onto his desire for fluffy company instead. Whatever had occurred in the past had happened, and he doubted he could change that right then, so he might as well focus on helping his hopefully new found friend... or, well, he would dearly love to make friends with the Beast. They could both really use a friend right about now. Invigorated by his new goal, Jaskier climbed out of bed ready to face the day. Whether it meant getting to spend quality time with the fellow or him filling his day dutifully studying the flowers for any hint of a connection to the curse… all by himself... He would be completely fine either way, at least he would be helping! Honestly, he didn’t mind the idea of being completely and utterly alone all day again! It’ll be great, just like his days just after Oxenfurt, except he wasn’t on the road obviously.

He stretched in the warmth of his room, thanking whatever gods were above for granting him the luxury of having a magical fireplace to keep him warm in this cursed winter as he was setting about readying himself to face the day. Before he could even think about what to wear, he spotted another set of clothes on the trunk in front of his bed. It was almost scary how the great Beast could sneak into his room to leave gifts without disturbing Jaskier’s sleep with how big he appeared to be. The bard also couldn’t decide if it was sweet or creepy that he kept doing it, but he settled on sweet for now since he found all that fur rather endearing compared to a regular human stranger. The doublet and trousers, which were more bloomers this time, were a rich amber with burgundy accents which reminded him of the forest from his dream. The delicate embroidery on it even had a leaf motif as well. It may have been a coincidence, but he couldn’t help but smile nonetheless. The soft gauzy chemise and stockings to match the ensemble were a lovely cream color which seemed to tie it all together with soft dark brown boots that were set to the side. He gently put the garments on after he finished his usual morning routine--the importance of moisturizing, children--and when he turned to make the bed everything was already done just like the day prior. “You know you don’t have to be shy. You can do things in front of me just as you do with the Beast.” He spoke aloud into the empty room, not expecting any form of answer, but the curtains on the bed fluttered slightly. He took that as a yes and enjoyed another small victory.

For a moment, he considered going in search of the Beast, but that hadn’t worked out well yesterday, so he decided to just finish what he had started last night. After a short whole of skimming through his select few books that he had collected, he decided the Herbarium and Antidotarium were far too academically written for him to really understand. Besides, they both seemed to not really focus on flora at all. Plants in general, yes, flowers not so much. He set them aside to put back later, but the small stool he placed them on trotted out of the room with the books. “...Thank you!” He called after the silly thing, after his initial shock, realizing that the stool had most likely gone to return them for him. How kind! The Botanist's Companion to the Identification of Flora had proved quite useful for, well, identifying the flowers he didn’t know of course, but it didn’t go much further then that. So he then turned his sights on the homemade Alchemy text and the Assasination guide book. If the flowers had any use for magic or medicine, Jaskier was sure these would have it all there for him in black and white… Except after searching through the neat penmanship for a couple of hours-- pity these didn’t have an index--and jotting down notes as he went, he found there was no correlation. Some were poisonous, some were medicinal, some were magical, some were a combination of the three, and although he assumed magic and alchemy were practically the same thing, none of the four flowers had any use in the same potions or spells he found. Bottom line was that the flowers and their associated parts had no practical use as a whole together.

Changing his line of thought, he kept his notes, but turned to his final book and opened it. Symbolism was always the way to a bard’s heart, but he hadn’t expected a sorceress or sorcerer to pay much heed to it. Although, perhaps whoever it was to cast the spell was just adding insult to injury. It was like adding some kind of reminder or petty jab to taunt the Beast in his magical prison in the form of flowers. Odd, but not outside the realm of possibility really. He had once gone to such petty lengths as to bribe the laundress at Oxenfurt to “accidentally” dye all of Valdo Marx’s white linens and bed dressings to a color Jaskier knew he particularly hated for weeks just to drive the insufferable prat up the wall. Then to top it all off with a bow, he convinced the lady Valdo was courting at the time, that said color was his favorite and really got him going in the bedroom. He graciously assisted the fine lady to decorate her room in it, as well as oh-so-helpfully assisted her with picking out a stunning outfit to surprise and delight the odious weasel. It all proved to be worth it when the other man had been suspended for a week after he hollered at and practically mauled everyone who crossed his path. Now, many would think Jaskier was being unduly cruel, but in his defense, it was well and truly deserved. He only committed the act of vengeance after the vile piece of shit had stolen one of Jaskier’s early compositions which he had slaved over for months to complete and proceeded to present it as his own for the final examinations. It was butchered and Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to sing it ever again. So if whoever really disliked this Beast was petty enough, Jaskier wouldn’t put it past them to add a small detail of insulting foliage to the whole shabang.

Upon opening the small journal filled with a ladies delicate crisp script, he set to work. To his confusion, they didn’t all come together as a whole that meant fuck you or something as equally aggressive. It was more mournful and sad. Thistle carried the heavy tones of pain, anger, and pride, which was not at all surprising of the devilish little thing, from what the text said. The Zinnia spoke of an absence while the cyclamens implied a separation that led to the absence. The worst and most heart wrenching of them all were the little purple hyacinths that pleadingly asked for forgiveness. Jaskier didn’t really get the whole picture yet, but he did understand that, as beautiful as the back garden was, it was a reminder. It was a symbol of regret, and something was undoubtedly hidden in the center of the maze. Hopefully a major clue or, if he was lucky enough, the key to breaking the curse. Regardless, the bard was even more determined to unravel what it all meant now than ever. First, however, he needed to gather more flowers and try to pick his way through the maze to its center.

He set the sad blossoms to the side with the other materials and the journal before pulling on his bright cloak, ready to press on now that he had more stable footing underneath him. A glance to the windows showed that it was practically midday and he had skipped breakfast… again. Whoopsies. Not wanting to take too long though, he popped into the dining room and tucked some apples into his cloak pockets, also managing to remember to grab a couple for the mare--as he promised to do--from the table that was slowly clearing itself for dinner later in the evening. He left through the front entrance and made his way to the stables so he wouldn’t forget to give the lady her treat.

He stopped short upon entering, however, because the horse was not alone this time. It seemed he was her second visitor of the day. Standing at her side was the Beast, brush in hand, lovingly grooming her while whispering words Jaskier sadly could not hear. The bard couldn’t help but feel elated that he had such good fortune that day. He did, however, war with himself on whether or not he should disturb the tranquil, domestic scene, but the decision was made for him as the lady huffed in Jaskier’s direction, which had the Beast’s gaze snapping up to him. The troubadour’s bright smile was met with an annoyed scowl however, and had Jaskier regretting his mistake of accidentally interrupting. Before he could think of an excuse to quickly get out of the Beast’s hair, the rough baritone called out, halting his thoughts. “What?” It was demanding and clipped but not angry at least.

Jaskier licked his lips nervously as he stepped forward, trying to remember what he had come to do all of a sudden. Thankfully, the gentle knock of the apples against his knee, concealed in his cape, jolted his memory . “Ah! Oh, I just came to bring a treat to the lady. She helped me in a way yesterday and I wanted to thank her.” He could feel his cheeks warm with embarrassment as the words left his mouth. He realized how ridiculous it sounded, but at least it was the truth.

He expected a scoff or a growl to follow his ridiculous statement, but he was met with wide surprised eyes before the Beast’s face was back to its usual flat stare in the blink of an eye. The Beast said nothing further, but he did hum in acceptance, or at least that’s what Jaskier was going to assume it meant. When the Beast turned back to tending to the horse, Jaskier felt some of the tension leave him. He could do this, he could talk to the intriguing fellow and possibly convince the other to spend time with Jaskier in the day, not just at dinner.

Jaskier quietly moved towards the two in the stall and cautiously caught the horse’s attention, not wanting to startle her. “Hello, Madam! It’s lovely to see you again!” His mouth moved of its own accord, prattling on at the horse rather than the Beast to hopefully disperse his sudden onset nerves. “I have brought you a treat, as promised.” He continued as he stepped into the stall, putting him rather close to the great mass of fur. The space felt smaller than the other day with all three of them in it, and the bard felt his heart hammering in his throat, ready to run away with itself. He didn’t quite understand his own reaction, but he was tempted to blame it on the strange dream and how the Beast’s fur reminded him of the knight’s hair. He supposed he was needier for companionship then he thought, a matter he usually dealt with by finding some one night stand that gave him the physical if not emotional comfort he longed for. As he tried to quell his racing heart, the Beast shifted further away. The troubadour almost felt like an idiot as he realized the Beast could most likely hear the offending organ and it made him uncomfortable. Hell, if Jaskier could hear someone’s heartbeat race just by stepping into a horse stall which put them in close proximity to one another, he would think them strange too. All in all he was not making a good impression on the other who had already wanted to get rid of him. Mentally shoving down all the weird feelings, he fed the darling mare her treat.

He needed to act as charming and likable as he usually was, but he couldn’t understand why none of his usual demeanor came out around the other man. He cleared his throat, glancing over at the other. “I apologise for if I offended you in some way last night during dinner. I thought things were going well, but I suppose I must have crossed a line somewhere that upset you, and for that I am remorseful. I didn’t intend to be rude.” He began speaking to fill the silence. It was not anywhere near what he had intended to say, but it also wasn’t the worst way to start. Besides, it was the truth. He felt like it had been his fault that everything was abruptly cut short. An apology was far better than glossing over what had happened, acting like it hadn’t occurred, and talking about the weather. The Beast only hummed in response to Jaskier’s apology, so the bard continued on. “By the way, whose horse is this? She’s an absolute peach! Did she get trapped here as well?”

The Beast grunted slightly in reply, very articulate, and Jaskier assumed that was all he was going to get out of him until finally the low rumbling tone graced the bard’s ears again. “She’s mine. Had her for years, and yes, she is most likely trapped here by the same curse that traps us.” The stoic individual explained, and it was so very sweet how fond he sounded when speaking of his horse.

Except it was as clear as mud. The Beast hadn’t really given him anything but sparse details that told him nothing except for some reason, a Beast in a cursed castle required a horse that he most likely couldn’t ride with his size being what it was. Jaskier would just have to take solace in the fact that he had gotten more words to come out of him than the short, clipped responses… Also that did confirm he was most likely a man before all this if he had had a horse, but it still didn’t tell him anything of the Beast’s status, class, or profession. Anyone could have a horse as long as they could make enough coin to care for it. “Well she’s a darling. May I- Is there any way I can help?” He tried to offer but the Beast shook his head with a happy huff. Jaskier sighed softly in disappointment. Well this wasn’t going very far… Jaskier decided to try another angle. “So, Beast, I really do mean it when I say-”

“Don’t” The deep growl cut him off and Jaskier’s confusion was met with a deep glower before the Beast’s eyes looked anywhere but at him. He didn’t look just annoyed this time but outright angry.

“What?” Jaskier could only ask dumbly because he didn’t know where he had yet again misstepped.

“Don’t call me that.” He growled, looking genuinely distressed and the bard felt rather bad for it… “Beast..” He spit out the word like it tasted foul on his tongue, muttering mostly to himself.

“Well…” Jaskier started gently, taking a tentative step forward and laying a hand lightly on the Beast’s arm. He counted it as a win when it was not shaken off. “What should I call you? I--You have yet to give a name, but I apologize for the callous insensitivity I have displayed…” He asked, deciding that he should’ve at least apologized for putting his foot in his mouth again. Just because the Beast knew who he was didn’t mean he shouldn’t have asked the other for his.

The Beast seemed to consider him critically for a moment while deciding whether or not to answer. “Geralt.”

Jaskier couldn’t help but smile, finally knowing the Beast’s name. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Geralt.” He spoke with a flourish and a bow, smiling playfully at the Beast, who rolled his eyes at the bard’s antics, but it felt fond in a way. “Now, as I was trying to say, I really do wish to help break the curse… If you’ll allow, that is.” He offered and amended, fully planning to continue helping regardless but it’d be easier if Geralt consented and provided information.

The Beast sighed in annoyance, but Jaskier could tell that he was considering whether or not to trust the bard to help, so Jaskier waited patiently. “...The curse changes and shifts according to the person apparently.” He relented vaguely.

Jaskier was starting to think he and Geralt were going to need a little sit down to have a nice long chat about a thing called details. Really! It was a familiar exasperation that he felt, but didn’t dwell on it since the conversation seemed more pressing. “Sounds rather annoying and rather unfair of the caster to not even give you a hint on how to break it.”

Geralt nodded stoically, a word that was rather fitting of the cursed man, as he ushered the bard out of the stall. Both said goodbye to the mare before stepping out into the crisp winter scene. It almost felt like the Beast didn’t want the horse to hear their discussion and the thought nearly had him giggling, but he refrained. Must maintain a serious professional demeanor and all that to get any details. “Don’t know much else yet except that the spell provides anything I need to break the curse… And there’s a time limit.” His tone was grave and the notion sent chills up the troubadour’s spine.

“What happens if time runs out…” He couldn’t help asking as fear creeped into his mind. He may not know the Beast well, but he got a good feeling from him, and he didn’t want to lose yet another companion if he could help it. There was also the matter of what would happen to him if the curse’s time limit ran out since he was now stuck there. It was just as likely that he’d be freed as it was that he’d die with the Beast.

Geralt didn’t respond however. He shrugged and shook his head, not meeting Jaskier’s eye, telling the bard that even he didn’t know what fate awaited him, but it was most likely very grim. Jaskier didn’t like the somber air that had enveloped them after the conversation lapsed, so he tried to reassure them both with false bravado he didn’t quite feel in the moment. “Well, nothing to fear really. I’m sure with my help, we’ll be able to break this curse in no time.”

The Beast, however, snorted at his cheerful tone. “Oh? What could some bard do that I couldn’t already?” Now Jaskier could tell he was teasing, especially since there was an amused glint in the star like eyes, but he still wound up sputtering indignantly.

“Some bard!?” He nearly shrieked as the other openly openly chuckled at his flustered state. “How dare you!” Jaskier quickly stooped down, gathering snow into a ball and threw it at the highly amused Beast. He had been mistaken, the Beast had a lack of refinement and taste! “I’ll show you!” He threw another ball of snow to punctuate his sentence before continuing his rant. “I’ll break the damned curse just so I can shove it in your furry handsome face!”

He continued to pelt Geralt with snow, but now the other was returning fire, and Jaskier was scrambling to dodge while giving little shrieks of delight because as upset as he was, it was rather fun. “If your curse breaking is as bad as your aim bard, I shall fear for my life!” The other called out as they exchanged blows, his tone open and friendly. The man was apparently finding humor in ruffling Jaskier’s feathers, the insufferably gruff, intriguing bastard!

“In fact, I bet the curse brought me here because you were too busy brooding to figure it out!” His shrieks slowly morphed into delighted little laughs as they traded powdery blows. “An answer to your prayers!”

He ducked and ran through the front garden boasting as he tried to hit the agile Beast as the Beast chased after him. “More likely an added punishment brought to torment me.” The Beast countered, which rustled the bard more, most likely an attempt to get Jaskier to falter, which he almost gave into.

After a little while of cat and mouse in their little snowball game, he was tackled into the fluffy snow by his pursuer. He giggled looking up at the Beast. Jaskier was pulling in deep breaths to sate his burning lungs while Geralt seemed unperturbed by the exercise, but they were both unmistakably smiling in their own ways, Jaskier grinning broadly while Geralt smirked. “The solution to all your woes…” He breathed out softly between them which Geralt rolled his eyes at fondly at before standing up, breaking whatever small moment that had appeared between them. He was kind enough to help the smaller man up, however, so chivalrous he was.

Jaskier couldn’t help the soft, giddy giggles that sporadically slipped out from his lips, but as fun as everything had been, Geralt turned towards the castle. “I’ll, uh… I’ll see you at dinner.” Geralt offered before quickly going off and disappearing.

Jaskier was left standing outside once again, damp, but genuinely happy for the first time in a while. He would have felt like he had scared the Beast off again had Geralt not just confirmed they’d be dining together. A part of him wanted to hop around in victory, but instead he buried his blushing face in his hands and squealed softly in delight. Things may have started off rocky but now things were finally looking up. Wanting to press his good fortune, Jaskier quickly made his way to the back gardens to collect a few more flowers to look up. He may or may not have been skipping, but he was too happy to care. He collected three more, wanting to take his time and not misidentify anything, since they dried slightly in the time he looked each one up. This time he collected a small, delicate little flower, a larger yellow flower that looked like the ruffled layers of a ladies petticoats, and a vivid purple flower with lots of long thin petals and a bright yellow center. Spending time searching for and picking buds had left him feeling rather chilled, however, so he hurried around the keep and went back inside.

By the time Jaskier was back in his chamber, he realized just how frigidly cold he actually was. Frost has actually stiffened the damper part of his clothes. He shivered from the snow-dampened clothes, and a part of him knew it would be best to go take a nice hot bath, but he was suddenly very tired. So he stripped off his wet clothing, setting them to thaw and dry by the fire, and he set his newly collected blossoms with the others on his desk before dressing in the shirt he had slept in. Thankfully, from the position of the sun in the sky, Jaskier could tell he had a couple of hours until dinner. Which was just perfect! He’d take a nap for a little while, warm up, and then get all nice and freshened up for dinner. As he settled into bed, he wondered if Geralt would sneak him another outfit that he’d wish Jaskier to wear for dinner or not. The idea made him smile and laugh slightly before sleep pulled him into its sweet embrace.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing before the same lake he had been at in his dream before. This time however, most of the trees were waning in the late autumn fashion, and the sun was slowly setting on the horizon behind him. However, he was not filled with awe and the delight of meeting a handsome mysterious stranger in the woods this time. In fact, he felt rather heart broken, a feeling he knew all too well at this point, and was not thrilled to be feeling it again. Worst of all, he felt like he could do nothing to remedy the situation which brought the sting of hot tears welling up and overflowing. He tried brushing them away, but the fat tears continued to flow. His soft hiccuping sobs that had forced their way passed his lips were halted by Lew emerging out of the trees. His sharp features were softened by the solemn concern that he wore openly on his face. His piercing yellow eyes held Jasekier captive as the man-- no, Knight apparently-- approached slowly.

“I should’ve told you…” His voice was full of regret and Jaskier knew he had already forgiven him.

“It shouldn’t matter... “ Jaskier tried to offer, fully believing in what he said. It shouldn't have, whatever the drama was that his brain concocted, but it did.

“But she’s your only family and it made me appear to be dishonest.” The silver haired knight finished for him. “...I think she just needed an excuse to deny the proposal. You only have one another and I understand her fear of losing you.” He added, a deep misery settled in his topaz gaze. It seemed to be one of his overly dramatic nights where he put too much poetic flare on his observations.

“I know…” Was all Jaskier could offer pitifully, feeling more tears welling up and burning the back of his throat. He couldn’t hide his little hitched sobs in the silent evening that veiled them from the world they would eventually have to go back to. Lew stepped closer, taking Jaskier’s hand in his, tentatively checking if the touch was welcome. The bard couldn’t help himself as he buried himself in the larger man’s arms, modesty be damned. Lew instinctively tightened the embrace as he ran his gloved hand through his hair and down his back soothingly. The knight’s thick cloak shielded them from the rest of the night and kept the chill at bay. It was only when the other’s heat seeped into his bones that Jaskier realized how cold he had become. Jaskier had forgotten that he had run out into the night without his own cloak, and the long trailing jacket he wore was not enough to buffer the late autumn weather.

“I promise, I will fix this, dear heart. I will do anything to prove to her that my feelings are genuine and that I only wish to care and provide for you. I do not mean to whisk you away or disappear with you.” His voice was even as he murmured to the bard. Jaskier pressed further into the other, not caring about the cool armor between them. He knew his heart already belonged to this man, and it was terrifying, but it brought him comfort to hear the other’s feelings. “I must tell you that the only reason I kept my title from you was because I wanted to know you without any status or title coming between us… It was selfish, I know, but I wanted to be free by your side, even if only for as long as you’d let me. I should have told you sooner.” Lew’s voice was remorseful as he cradled Jaskier so gently in his hold.

The bard couldn’t help the small wet laugh that bubbled up in him as he looked up into his knight’s startled gaze. “I know, my dear. I know and I wouldn’t change even a second of the time we stole together.” Jaskier found himself declaring before he could second guess himself, but once the words were out, he knew they were true in his heart. Although his chest ached pleasantly compared to the heartache he had been feeling, something still felt false. This was all just a beautiful dream that he’d never have, and it made him want to weep, but he didn’t. He knew he was a cad and a flirt who played with one to many skirts, drawing the ire of husbands and other men. He knew with all his dishonesty, gallivanting, and cowardice he didn’t deserve such a sweet, faithful lover. He would not have such a fulfilling love unless the gods took pity and gifted him one last chance, but if he ever had a love in the waking world that felt like this, he’d follow them to the ends of the earth and back. He would faithfully love them and only them if he were just given a chance… But hadn’t he already had that chance? Wasn’t that why he felt as though there was a hole where his heart was that threatened to swallow him whole if he wasn’t distracting himself with other thoughts? It was why he felt jagged around the edges, something had been broken inside and hadn’t fit back together just right. He had wasted his one shot.

“I will make this right.” The knights rumbled softly, like a summer storm, and Jaskier was pulled back into the present of the dream even though the realization lingered in his thoughts. As much as the gentle treatment broke his already fragile heart more, the bard found himself smiling lightly as the man stepped away. A strong hand wiped away the last of his tears before bidding him farewell.

As Jaskier watched the knight disappear into the dark woods, he felt lighter and heavier at the same time. As he closed his eyes to savor the fleeting moment, he found himself blinking awake in his too warm bed. He tried to push down the regret welling up inside, but soon it was spilling out as he cried mutedly into his pillow. He felt so upset, and angry, and overwhelmed at the realization that he had somehow lost his love. To add salt to the gaping wound, he couldn’t even remember why or how! He couldn’t remember their face! Or their voice! All he wanted to do now was find them and fix everything, but he was here. He supposed the memory loss was also most likely his fault… An ill conceived memory spell undoubtedly procured from a backwater hag, presumably in an attempt to forget the pain after he got roaringly drunk. It definitely sounded on par with the foolish shit he had done in his lifetime, but it only served to wipe the man from his world, not the pain. The mind may forget, but the heart will always remember. As he felt entirely too warm and morose, as though this was the bed he would die in, he spotted a bundle of clothes left on the side table by his side of the bed. The thought of the Beast leaving them there after creeping carefully in to surprise him with the gift managed to quell his tears and bring a tiny hint of a smile to his lips. Although he had messed his life up somehow and he felt lost, adrift in a sea he no longer knew how to navigate, he was at least not alone. He had his dreams filled with lovely views and a darling knight, but more importantly, he had the company of his Beast. He very much preferred his Beast to imaginary knights if he was to get through this whole comedy of tragedies that was his life.

So regardless of how his body protested and how his head swam with sleep, he hauled himself up and out of the bed that remade itself. The light outside was almost completely gone which meant he had slept longer than he had intended. He’d have to hurry if he wanted to be on time. Jaskier found himself quickly freshening up in the wash basin to rid himself of the sweat he somehow drenched himself in as he slept while chiding the fireplace for stoking itself so high… and then he consoled the poor thing because he felt bad for being too harsh with it as he put on kohl to match the dark garments still neatly folded and waiting. When he picked them up, however, he finally noticed they were a deep purple velvet that brightened as the fabric shifted. The long doublet was trimmed with emerald braiding, and near the collar, emeralds were studded in a way to appear as though he were wearing an extravagant necklace. The simple velvet trousers were well fitted and clung to him like a second skin. His new chemise that went with the ensemble was lilac, and so delicate in his hands that it could only be made of silk. This outfit seemed terribly grand compared to the past outfits he had been given, and for the first time in his life, he was nervous to put on such finery, but it would be rude not to. So he dressed carefully, realizing then just how warm velvet was to wear, but he’d just bare it for the sake of his Beast. He also decided to wear the few silver rings he had to add a little touch of his own. As the bard was pulling on his new over the knee black boots, a knock came at his door and he realized with a small smile that Geralt had come to fetch him again. Muzzy headed with excitement, he quickly finished and strode to the door, pulling it open with a flourish and a big delighted smile. As he suspected, the Beast was truly there, hunched over to look less threatening, and he had changed out of his usual armor into clothes that seemed dressier, which had Jaskier’s woefully soft heart bubbling happily in his chest. Geralt had made an effort this time and, if Jaskier may be so bold as to wish, it was for his sake. “Geralt! Shall we?” He asked cheerily, looping his arm around the crook of the other’s elbow and waited for the other to lead the way.

#geraskier #Witcher #witcher netflix #the witcher #fanfic #geralt x jaskier #gerlion #Beauty and the Beast AU #beast!geralt #Buttercup's Writings

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