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kabutoden · 10 days

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In your bugstuck au, you said that lime-bloods have resurfaced on another planet in the Empire. Does this mean that there are other Nursery Worlds in the Empire other than Alternia itself, or does each planet have their own 'Kid Sector' where children are raised before assimilating into adult society?

THANKS for the great question!! Sorry for the long answer but i might have mispoken or changed my headcannons; limebloods have re-emerged in colonies outside The Empire. Propaganda denies the existence of the multiple settlements outside of their domains, but this is untrue. As a result of one of these cultures deconstructing casteism and allowing their Jadebloods freedom to live outside the convents and reproduce, a few young limebloods have hatched!

CAESER and CALIGULA are a pair of planets locked in BINARY ROTATION with each other. These planets were colonized by gold-blooded helmsman revolutionaries. The helmsman and their allies planned and collected all they needed from ALTERNIA and elsewhere settle the planets, then one goldblood sacrificed his life to create a powerful psychic barrier around the planets. He was posthumously declared the GOLDEN EMPEROR. No seadwellers were trusted by the revolutionaries, and as a result no violet or fuschia bloods live there. The smaller of the two planets, CAESER, has a massive megastructure city created by combining several grounded ships. This structure has three tiers: below the earth are huge caverns with trolls aged 1-6 sweeps and their lusus, acting as a nursery layer that keeps them safe from older trolls. In the center of the structure is a giant institution for trolls aged 6-9 sweeps, including dorms for them to live, divided by bloodcolor. They're moved up more quickly than on Alternia due to lusus underpopulation, and are allowed to visit their lusus and their sibling once a month (a lusus's next charge is considered a trolls sibling.) At the top is a palace where psychic-gifted goldbloods live separate from all other hemotypes and raise their heirs. Adult trolls migrate to the larger planet CALIGULA unless invited to stay at the school as instructors. The planet is otherwise dominated by fields and two seas, with the birthing caverns and mothergrub hidden somewhere beneath the fields.

The GOLD RULE binary system, following the teachings of the sufferer as whispered among helmsmen, abolished the hemocaste system; but many beliefs about bioessentialism of blood colors remain. Trolls are referred to as warmbloods and coolbloods, as opposed to being ranked, and are somewhat permitted to seek their own callings in life. The dorms house trolls by blood color, which is intended to keep warmbloods that are prey-imitating safe from predator-imitating coldbloods. Class schedules are also determined by blood color, with trolls needing to apply for classes outside of their schedule if they’re interested. For example, Floria, a petal mantis mimic and purpleblood, really keeps his head down to stay in his painting classes he adores. His scythes are wrapped with linen to keep them from intimidating warmbloods. Otherwise, most his assigned classes are physical and combat-based. Some of his fellow purplebloods disrespect his interests and most warmbloods he shares classes with ignore him. While the hierarchical system has been abolished, struggles remain.

#bugstuck #buggy trolls #homestuck #lore #limebloods #ask #this was even longer before but i deleted the bits on Beforus and the reversed-caste planets LOL

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mugiwara-rosewolf · 6 months

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All My Life

Part One II Part Two

Sabo x F! Reader

Summary: Reader has been a Revolutionary since birth. But her first mission went terribly wrong, leaving her friend Sabo terribly scarred. They've stuck together since the day he lost his memory--but she remembers everything. So when news hits the papers, and Sabo falls ill, Reader has to grapple with the outcomes and consequences of her first and longest-running mission. Has she succeeded or failed? What happens when her former-amnesiac Sabo finally remembers her?

Warnings: Slight Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Trauma, Medium Angst & Mild Cursing.

ROGER'S SON, FIRE FIST ACE, DEAD AT MARINEFORD

This is it. I failed. Two out of three thoughts circled in Y/N's head. Day in and day out. Sun up to sun down. The third, well, the third, was on a loop all its own. A sensation not unlike an iron brand or an ice pick to the chest every time she heard those words inside her head.

Guard him with your life.

That's what Dragon had told her. Her, her mother, her father - her parent's final mission when they set off all those years ago. 'I've hidden something precious on that island. Your mission is to Guard it with your life.' At first, she thought it was just Luffy she was meant to protect. They had docked at Fuschia Village and moved in right next to a little barkeep and one Monkey D. Luffy, and she assumed that was the end of that. Just keep that little twerp out of trouble as best she could, and her mission would be complete.

Then those blasted pirates came to town and threw a wrench in their plans. She should've known those pirates were a goddamned trouble magnet. Bringing mountain bandits down on their heads. Convincing Luffy to stab himself in the face...and that stupid straw hat. After that, things only ever got worse. Luffy was dragged into the mountains by his grandfather, so of course, Y/N chased after him. But then - for reasons unfathomable to her - Luffy started chasing after Ace. The idiot was constantly risking his life for the sake of some stranger who literally put the two of them through Hell.

Of course, that boy would turn out to be the son of a Demon.

Portgas D Ace, the lost son and only descendant of the legendary Gold Roger. A boy she hadn't put any stock in at first. A feral child she assumed to be some spawn that loud-mouthed bandit lady didn't want. At first, the truth sent Y/N reeling.

Wait, is this what Dragon really meant? She thought. Something Precious. Guard it with your Life.

Suddenly, not was she in the presence of the son of Dragon, but also the son of Roger -- two of the most wanted legacies in all the world. Two lives the World Government would love to snuff out for good. Guard it with your life. Guard it with your life. The words kept cycling, skipping, repeating in her head over and over again. So that's what she did.

Sworn to secrecy, Y/N dedicated herself to ensuring that Luffy and Ace survived to reach their majority. Saving Luffy's sorry butt from those blasted Blue Jam Pirates. Bailing that hot-tempered Ace out of fights he couldn't win. Teaching both boys how to sneak behind grownups undetected. To pick their pockets. To play to their sympathies and get what ya want from them. Garp and the bandits called them all reckless hoodlums. But the only hoodlum who had ever reached back and saved her skin - was Sabo.

He knew the lay of the land better than almost anyone. Could navigate both Grey Terminal and the Inner City even with his eyes closed. And if Ace wouldn't listen to her in a fight (which was often), he would listen to Sabo. And that was good enough for her. He was kinder to Luffy than either Ace or Y/N had the patience for, trying his best to train the boy in his devil fruit even with no powers of his own.

Powerless. She remembered that day. The day that golden boy in blue turned himself into - no, for us. Y/N bit her cheek. He left to save us.

She remembered the night when the fire started. Everything happened at once till all that came to mind was a rush of sensations. The smell of burning flesh. The ring of dying screams. The stampede of footsteps, desperate to escape.

'Luffy! Ace!'

Howling and screaming for her parents in the wreckage, when she couldn't see a thing.

'Mama! Papa!'

Lost in the maze of melting metal and tongues of flame. Guard them with your life. Guard them with your life. The words on repeat and repeat and repeat - and then he appeared. The source of that never-ending mantra.

Monkey D. Dragon himself.

Y/N reported the situation, just as she'd been trained. It didn't matter that she was straining for breath. The tears blurring her vision didn't matter. Coarse hands smeared the saltwater and grime from her cheeks.

'Head to the ship,' His deep voice instructed. 'I will take it from here.'

Y/N did as she was told. Upon Dragon's ship, her fellow Revolutionaries were awaiting her. All senior agents and officers. She spent all night in the crow's nest of that ship, watching the black plumes of smoke rise into the night. Eyes eagerly searched the dancing firelight for any silhouette she might recognize.

'Luffy, Ace, Mama, Papa - where are you?'

Surely Dragon would find them. Surely Dragon would take them home. Goa was no longer safe if it ever was. Surely Ace and Luffy could be better protected on Baltigo. Surely she and her family could take a break from active duty. Then finally, she could be honest with her friends.

Her parents never came home.

She never saw her friends again.

Upon the first light of morning, the only thing she saw was the smouldering wastes of Grey Terminal. -What was left of it, anyway. The Revolutionaries set to caring for those who escaped the wreckage. The refugees who now, more so than ever, had truly lost everything. All that day, Y/N's fellow agents looked after the wounded, offering them food and drink, even a place among their ranks. All the while, Y/N kept her eyes fixed on what remained of her family's hunting grounds. The jungle was thankfully untouched. The Upper City almost disgustingly so. But she saw no movement amidst the smoke and metal. No familiar silhouettes. No one.

The only things of note were the sounds of cheering and the blasting of a canon. Some sort of fanfare or festival must've been going on on the other side of the city. The sky scraping sprawl of the Nobles' estates kept Y/N from getting a clear view of its source. The Celestial Dragons must've been approaching the southerly port, she thought. She wouldn't have known that if Sabo hadn't drawn a map for her all those months ago.

Sabo... Her chest ached at the thought. She imagined the boy trapped behind a window in one of those pristine white buildings. His whole life was condemned to stay behind layers upon layers of cold stone walls. If Ace and Luffy died in that fire, their brother would never be free.

And what about me? The thought occurred to her as a chill down her spine. What force for good would she be if she knew he was trapped there and did nothing? What kind of friend would she be if she left them all behind? Yet again, Dragon's commission reverberated in her mind. Guard them with your life. Guard them with your life. --but how?!

Sunlight was already being swallowed by the sea by the time Dragon returned. Y/N could see the black of his cloak wandering between piles of smouldering rubble. But beyond her target's line of sight, something else caught her eye. Out there, floating in on the tide, was a familiar stove pipe hat. The glint of those oversized goggles at their brim was unmistakable.

Sabo!

Without a thought, Y/N leapt from the crows' nest and dove headfirst into that tepid water. The impact stole the breath from her lungs. But she didn't have time to stop. Arms and legs pressed her onwards, chest burning. Through the blur of the salt water, she could see the petite silhouette, those tailored blue clothes stained in smoke and blood.

Blood-?! Y/N paddled faster. The current pushed and pulled her side to side, tearing her off course, but she would not be deterred. Diving deeper, she perched herself on the nearest boulder on the ocean floor. She could feel the pressure of the ocean trying to pull her down. But the shadow cast by Sabo's limp body in the water spurred her on. She pushed off the rock and up towards the surface. Her arms crooked *just so* to catch Sabo under his arms and catapult them into the fresh air.

Foam and shards of wood sprayed around her. Y/N gasped for air. Every muscle burned and ached. Beyond her, a discordant choir of voices were hollering and calling out her name. She could see her leader's black cloak reach the shoreline. His strides paused upon hearing his crew's commotion.

'Dragon-sama!' she cried. 'Here! Right here!'

The Revolutionary turned. Every scrap of seafaring wind squealed in shock at what he saw.

'Help!' Y/N called out. 'He's hurt, please!'

The tides seemed rattled by the change in weather. A breaking wave shoved both Y/N and her unconscious friend forward. Out of her eye, she saw that stove pipe hat getting knocked about in the torrent. Wait-! Grabbing a nearby bar of flotsam wood, Y/N scrambled to hook the hat like a fish on a spear and fling it towards the shoreline. When the next wave hit, she transferred her limp friend's weight from her front to her back. When her feet finally touched the sand, she could race to Dragon's side and snatch Sabo's hat from him.

'We need to get a doctor, sir, right away.'

Dragon blinked. As he scanned the injured Sabo from head to toe, something shifted in his face.

'Y/N, do you know this boy?'

'Yessir,' No reason to lie to her leader. 'He and Luffy were bond brothers.' she glanced at her friend's face. Dripping in saltwater and blood. Everything within her ached. '...All he wanted was to be free.'

Her elder nodded. 'Very well. We can grant him that much.'

And that was the beginning. Or...maybe the end? Y/N never resumed her initial mission in Fuschia Village. When Dragon told her about her parent's fates in the fire, he formally dismissed her from active duty. She tried to press the issue, saying Luffy and Ace still needed her, but to that, he said:

'At least one of them has unlocked Conqueror's Haki. After this, neither should find much danger in the East Blue.'

Your job has been done for you. --He didn't say that last part, but she certainly heard it in his voice. Her mother always said, 'Spies are well versed in the art of subtext'.

Now, years later, come to find out, neither of her East Blue friends had ever been safe. From the moment Ace left Fuschia, he was dogged by an Ensign and then enslaved by a Yonko. Two Yonko, if Y/N's information network was to be believed. She found it hard once she got word that Ace was pursuing an exiled crewmate who'd turned around and murdered another in their ranks. That second Yonkou, Whitebeard - Ace wouldn't have done that if he didn't believe in the old geezer.

Then Luffy was chased to Paradise by an East Blue captain, where he proceeded to dethrone one of the Shichibukai! And several more after that! Hell, Luffy went all the way to Enies Lobby and fucking declared War on the World Government! The first time Y/N read that headline, she swore she nearly had an aneurysm. Meanwhile, Dragon was sitting at the head of the conference table fucking smirking about it. Little did she know things were only gonna get worse from there.

Ace was captured by the Marines.

Ace was sent to the deepest level of Impel Down.

Ace was revealed publicly to be the son of Gold Roger.

Ace was sentenced to be executed at Marineford.

A secret of the highest clearance has been exposed to the world - and Y/N wasn't there to keep him safe. Not like she promised. Not like she'd been tasked to do for as long as she could remember. Her orders were to 'guard them with your life'. ...And she hadn't done it.

The moment she heard the news of Ace's arrest, she raced to Dragon's office immediately. Requested reconnaissance, search and rescue, and any team fast enough to get him out of Impel Down before Luffy decided to pull a stupid and do it himself. Because he would. She knew he would. Because she still knew him, even after all these years.

Being a part of the Revolutionary Army, agents were forbidden from contacting anyone outside their trusted communications channels. Even passing on a message through her own communication network was considered a breach of conduct. Ace and Luffy probably didn't even know she was alive, or that Sabo was alive. But then again...Sabo didn't even know Ace and Luffy existed.

'Sir, if we don't act first, your son is gonna put himself in danger,' She remembered arguing with her leader. Something she never would've dared to do as a child. 'If he dies trying to break Roger's son out of Impel Down, then -'

'You are certain that will be his next course of action?'

'Of course, sir, Luffy and Ace are bond brothers. Same as he and Sabo. Luffy would drop everything to save his Naka-'

'Evidence serves to the contrary.'

'Are you kidding me?!' Dragon threw her a stern look. Y/N winced. 'A-all due respect, sir, but the whole reason Enies Lobby happened is because Luffy was looking to rescue a crewmate.'

'A crewmate who also happens to be a valuable asset,' Dragon noted. 'The last scholar of Ohara capable of reading the Poneglyphs.'

'That's not why he did it, and you know it.'

'Do I?'

You would, if you any spent time with your son. Y/N knew better than to say that retort out loud. Instead, she said: 'Sir, the first orders you ever gave me were to protect the secrets you'd hidden on Goa. Ace may no longer be a secret, but if we don't act, Luffy's cover will be blown, too.'

'Portgas D Ace has nothing to do with your orders.' Dragon said sternly. 'Your request is denied.'

'But Sir-!'

'Our mission is to free the people. Not one man,' The man's eyes were sharp as flint and harder than bedrock. 'Your request is denied, Y/N. Let. It. Go."

And he was right. Y/N hated to say it, or even to think it, if only to herself. But Dragon was right. The resources required to ensure success, either infiltrating Impel Down or foiling his transport to Marineford, would likely ruin their chances completely. If they were to fail, their forces would be wiped out. Their plans for the Reverie would be compromised. And the Revolution could not afford that...not even for the sake of her friend.

The Army's mission was to free the people. Not one man. Dragon was right. She knew. He told her to let it go, and she tried. Tried to fight other battles and go on other missions with Koala and Hack, and Sabo. -But she was off her game. Getting knocked by blades and bullets, she should've been able to dodge. Stealing more files from outposts than they'd actually need. Striking too hard and accidentally killing a few enemy soldiers. Something Hack most definitely disapproved of. Koala pinched her cheeks and tugged on her ears. Tying bandages too tight and making new bruises when Y/N scrambled for excuses. Hack even noted how he sensed her Chakras were out of balance or something.

But the worst part of it was Sabo. At team meetings, he would keep sneaking glances at her. Even when she stood on his left side, where he couldn't see, and his scar left no sign of any eyebrows furrowing in concern - she could still sense it from him. It was in the way he stood close enough to brush her shoulders in the hallway. Or the way he'd play with her fingers under the table. It had started out as a habit to help him sit still during class when they were little. But now, she knew it was a reassuring gesture. Something he did to reassure himself they were both okay. - Which meant he was picking up on the fact that she was not, in fact, okay. And that was a problem.

What she didn't expect what just how big of a problem it would grow to become.

It happened when she was going to Dragon's office, having just gussied up the courage to argue with him about this whole Ace debacle (again). She'd just bypassed Sabo and Koala in the officer's lobby, she caught hold of the whispers in the halls.

'Hey, check it out, the News Coo just arrived,'

'Eh, Hack-san, you better take a look at this,'

'Hm? New on the war, I presume.'

'Yea. It's finally over. The only reported casualties were Whitebeard, the Emporer, and -' Y/N's stomach twisted. '-Fire Fist Ace.'

Every drop of lifeblood in her body immediatley sank to the floor. Y/N's knees shook. The world spun around her. She couldn't think, could barely breathe. Y/N scrambled to clutch the nearest wall for support to keep her upright.

Ace, Ace, no- She gasped. Her eyes burned. Like she was drowning in salt water all over again. the corridor blurred around her. Only she wasn't in a hallway anymore. She was looking up from the bottom of the ocean as someone else's corpse floated above her. Corpses. Y/N clasped a hand over her mouth in an effort to contain her sobs. Ace, Luffy - oh, Luffy....

The headline staring her in the face was more than proof enough. That freckled face. That mane of tangled hair. That wicked smirk pressed ear to ear on the front page of the News Coo - that was him.

That's when she heard it.

A voice screamed - a howling cry of anguish and agony. Y/N's heart seized in her chest.

Sabo.

That's when it all went to shit.

***

Ahhh! This got way out of hand. I am so sorry, my dear but I'm afraid the epic conclusion to this swelling saga has become its own 3rd part. Please forgive my tardiness. I hope when this is all complete, you will find this story well worth the wait.

All the best,

Rose

#sabo x reader #sabo the revolutionary #one piece sabo #one piece #rosewolf writes #mugiwararosewolf #portgas d ace #ace one piece

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spideystevie · 1 year

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hi allie! thanks for the invite to ur party hehe <3 i was wondering if i could request 💘 “look, the bed’s surely big enough for us both.” from prompt list three with stevie? i am a sucker for a cliche love and kisses!! happy heart shaped month 🫶🏼

alice! thank you for coming to the party <3 i too love a good cliche and this one is a favorite for sure. happy heart shaped month mwah enjoy - [1.1k] | join the party!

Road tripping with Steve was proving to be more of an adventure than you thought. You’d already gotten lost twice and nearly ran out of gas once. For all the trouble the two of you had gone through, it was a miracle your friendship was still entirely intact.

It felt nice to get away from Hawkins, if only for a little less than a week. Just you and your best friend, an open expanse of blue skies above you and dark asphalt creeping away beneath Steve’s car.

The summer air is sweet smelling and full of that special kind of hope only summer can bring. When Steve lets you roll the windows down on open bouts of highway, it whips through your hair and kisses your skin with a perfect warmth.

You’re miles outside of Indiana, on your way to Chicago, Illinois. You’d already spent a couple days in Indianapolis, exploring the city and its tall buildings. Small town living has its perks but you think you crave being in a city. That feeling of being a part of something bigger than yourself, the sense of anonymity that comes with a bigger population.

You’d gotten on the road later than you wanted and gotten lost a second time. The sun has started its descent below the horizon and the sky has turned fluorescent. Steve’s thrown down his visor to block out the near blinding rays. They shine on the road, making it look almost like it’s lit from within. You take a peak at the map you’d bought just outside Indianapolis.

“We should probably find a motel or something for the night,” you say. You probably could’ve made it to Chicago by now, truthfully had you’d given the right directions. Now, you were probably a good couple hours away, open road coasting past you. One of Steve’s mixtapes plays in the background on low.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says. You glance at the passing signs and compare them to the map. The sky’s started to turn bright shades of orange and fuschia, looking much like spilt cans of paint. It’s stunning and you rack your brain trying to remember the last time you’d seen a sunset so magnificent.

“There’s one off the next exit. About two miles,” you note, hunching over in your seat to start rifling through your bag for your camera. Steve glances at you for a moment. When you straighten up, camera in hand, the colors in the sky wash over you, making you look like a mural in itself.

As you take a picture through the windshield, you already know it’ll never do it just the right amount of justice. You turn in your seat and point the camera at Steve instead. He looks over again briefly and you snap the photo just as he does, grinning.

Steve takes the next exit like you said and pulls up outside a small motel not even five minutes later. He has you wait in the car while he runs in to see if they have a room available. You’re doubtful they’re booked out with how empty the parking lot is.

You’re leaning against the hood of the car when Steve comes jogging back out. He wishes he had his own camera to take a picture of you, perched on his car and staring at the sky.

“Room 205,” he says, walking towards the trunk where your luggage is. He insists on carrying your small duffle bag for you, leaving you with just your backpack slung over your shoulder. The room’s closer to the car than you had thought.

Steve drops your bags to the ground and pulls out the room key. When the door unlocks, he swings the door open and shoves the key back into the front pocket of his jeans. You step inside first and your heart sinks. Your lips part, opening and closing around nothing.

“Um, Steve?”

“Yeah?” from the sound of his voice, he hasn’t seen the dilemma. At your silence, he gets a little worried. “What? What’s wrong?”

“There’s one bed,” you state. You hear the door click shut behind you. You can hear Steve’s footsteps as he walks over.

“What? No there’s not. The lady at the desk said…” his footsteps falter with his voice. His left shoulder bumps into the back of your right one. You don’t look at him. “Oh.”

“Oh,” you nod. Steve sighs, trying to think of a way to fix this. He runs a nervous hand through his hair.

“I can go back down there,” he starts to say. This time, you do look at him. “Yeah, I’ll just go back down there and tell her she gave us the wrong room by mistake.”

“Steve, wait,” he’s at the door but he freezes at the sound of your voice. He turns his head to look at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah?”

You bite on your lower lip, shift on your feet. Your fingers fidget nervously with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Look, the bed’s surely big enough for us both,” you look over at it. It’s probably a queen size, maybe even a king. You look back at Steve. “I’m fine with sharing the bed if you are.”

Steve blinks, lips parting ever so slightly. He seems to fight off a blush.

“Oh. Okay. Yeah…yeah we can do that,” he says, letting go of the door handle. You nod once and walk over to grab your bag. He watches you in silence as you carry it over to the bed and set it down to pull out your pajamas and toiletries.

The two of you flit around each other as you get ready for bed, both feeling a little nervous and for the same reasons you don’t even realize. You can hear crickets chirping outside when you slip into the bed. The two of you lay on both sides respectively, on your backs staring at the ceiling.

“Is it okay if we…” Steve’s voice cuts through the silence, trailing off with a question that you catch effortlessly. It’s like the two of you speak a different language only you know and after so many years of friendship, you think it might be the case. Slowly, you nod, your hair rustling against the pillow.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. Your heart starts to beat a little faster in your chest as you and Steve shuffle closer together. He wraps an arm around your middle and you press yourself against his chest. It feels nice, normal even to be wrapped up in Steve as you prepare to go to sleep.

Once the two of you are situated, Steve asks: “Is this okay?”

You don’t even have to think twice before whispering: “Yes.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #📝: a writes!#allie's valentine's house party <3 #allie's vday party blurbs!

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chungledown-bimothy · 9 months

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My favorite spot to grind in FireRed is a group of bikers east of Fuschia City, for a lot of reasons.

One of them is what this particular biker says before getting into a battle:

Because I read that in Johnny Spells' voice every single time.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #johnny spells #pokemon

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witchofthesouls · 3 months

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any thoughts or concept ideas that you are cooking in you mind over Camiens?

the last one might have perked my interest. Some part of it ring similar tones that i had been working on on my down time (tho this was on an oc with a different craft that being a Blacksmith (Weapons maker kind) and the ever occuring difference between Cybertron and Caminus, despite looking the "same")

would some of the other think All Camiens are similar to the D.J.D or is does it just happen to that One indivdual that happens to be similar to that of the D.J.D?

Oh, I would love to see your interpretation of Camiens! Personally, I really fell in love with the idea that Camiens have deep cultural roots from Seekerkin societies and the War-Forged.

Early Camien society was far more militaristic and heavily focused on combat as the survivors of the Tribal wars and the First Cybertronian War went with the grieving Titan. Not only did Caminus bring his own citizens, but Megatronus' Darklanders, Liege Maximo's warrior-diplomats, and Crystal City skilled workers as well.

Those roots still exist in their language, dynamics, and even in their leadership roles. The Hammer of the Mistress of Flame is both ceremonial and practical as it invokes Solus Prime's Warhammer and the imagery of forge and forger as well as a weapon itself.

Unlike Cybertron, Camiens have far more social mobility and opportunities to jump into different careers. In fact, it's expected of citizens to have a variety of skills under their belt, including defense maneuvers.

At one point, all citizens were required to serve in the military and were rotated out. But millenia of relative peace loosened restrictions. Tradition and hostile fauna still demand Camiens to have some form of combat and weaponry training.

The establishment of the Torchbearers is a relatively new phenomenon as they are a dedicated six-member team of elite peacekeepers that travel across the planet. However, it's Healers and Cityspeakers that the population adore.

Camiens believe that each of them carries a fragment of Solus Herself, but the sparks that become Cityspeakers and Healers have more.

If Cityspeakers are Caminus' dream-speakers and His voice, then Healers are His direct touch.

Camien Healers are a cross between paladin, cleric, and a medic. Much how a forge creates tools of peace and war, Healers are very much both as they are able to manipulate and guide Caminus' own energy to others and within themselves to do incredibly impressive feats. Some are drawn to the denser population centers, remaining in hospitals and clinics to perform delicate operations in tandem with Caminus. Others are drawn to the dangerous edges of the dreaming, scattered Titan and the far-flung settlements of the planet, seeking out elements that cause great harm to the flow of Caminus' children.

This is a unique cultural and religious feature of Caminus as it blends faith healing, elite combatants, and medical training along with the constant war with the planet’s fauna and their own splinter groups as well as integrating newly activated War-Forged into the soul of their community.

Because the War-Forged have a monstrous capacity to deal and withstand damage as well as terrifying deep-core combat systems that are set to achieve directives no matter the cost, it is incredibly important to ensure that a newly awakened Healer pledges devotion to Caminus.

Hence, that is why Healers are easily identifiable by the intense fuschia optics and pink plating.

The process to become a Healer is a fiercely guarded secret of the pious Order of Luminara (a legendary figure that pledged loyalty and service directly to Caminus after Megatronus’ betrayal), but even promising candidates could ‘fail’ if Caminus refuses to impart a certain amount of His essence into the acolyte to awaken certain programs and coding. In the end, only a single handful are initiated into the Healer ranks every century or two.

Because of the intensity and strict regimen for potential Healers, many private groups keep a close eye on the individuals that fail to court them away from the Order as they can fulfill a multitude of highly skilled roles. While some do leave, many stay with the Order as they have ties to many organizations and fields and do receive preference.

Tourniquet is a notorious Healer for absolute dedication to hunting down extremists that deliberately target the far-flung settlements and hamlets. Much like how fire can have many names, the Way of Flame has many branches. However, there are branches that must be pruned away, such as the zealots of Sol's Lathe, who slaughter everyone and everything as a sacrifical tribute to bring back Solus to life as a reversal of Megatronus' sin ("From Death, springs Life."), and the strange cases of individuals under the throes of their version of Primus apotheosis -the delusion of being Solus' direct heir combined with paranoia and the rabid cannibalistic urge to devour sparks.

While Camiens do have a robust medical field, the presence of Healers are source of security to the population. Not only are they visible manifestations of Caminus and Solus, but should an invasion occur, they will be pulled from all operations with a new directive: slaughter.

The Nurse feels homesick because the D.J.D. reminds them of a heavily Order of Luminara-flavored Torchbearers.

#ask #transformers #transformers idw #idw #mtmte #religious imagery #the donor clause au #tourniquet #caminus #cybertronian culture #cybertronian biology #tf headcanons #maccadam #my writing #you bet your ass the Healer process includes entheogens #War-Forged either have immense wanderlust or latch onto a very specific group #their loyalty and devotion is incredibly Intense

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teratocrat · 9 months

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A single yellow dwarf, unremarkable, of about 1.0218 solar masses. And in its corona, dancing aurora-dragons, ribbons and feathers of nine-colored light, singing and reciting poetry to each other and hitching freezing rides on the asteroids and comets that swing close enough to the star to leap out onto.

One small, dense planet, frosted over with incandescent stormclouds that snow lead flakes onto the slopes of volcanoes whose calderas are choked with galena coral reefs, the bones of colonies of radiation-tolerant extremophilic microorganisms, and where sulfur-swamps coat the lazy tideless beaches of the planet's only ocean, stirred and tilled by people like lanky bundles of black ironstraw, who heap their storehouses high with xanthous dried fusegrass.

One larger, much cooler planet, the calcite gleam of its moon hidden from the surface much of the time by cloudcover. warm, shallow, mildly acidic seas of lavender mucous, tentative marshes of weeping fuschia ferns, translucent lapine blobs with probing antennae that could be eyes or ears or questing tongues, and in the middle of the deepest ocean, a massive gelatinous thing, a superorganism like a rose with its stem plunging down into the volcanic baths of an oceanic rift, a mind from whom all other minds on this planet came and to which they occasionally return, eager to share their stories.

One rocky planet, bitterly cold and with the merest wisps of atmosphere clinging to it. Lifeless, all its water burned off it by baleful solar glare, the vast horizon-spanning saltpan seafloors bone-bare under the violet sky, and its moon hanging above like a clenched fist of black basalt.

An asteroid belt, scattered diamond motes of ice and stone and clay and metals, with three dwarf planets in its embrace, and the largest of them bearing a banner of silver and midnight, a unicorn guarding some alien tree.

A planet one might almost mistake for Earth, for all its snake-necked tortoise-camels and gold-feathered tigermen, for all its gleaming pentagonal ziggurats of diamond and steel, its three space elevators anchored in the emerald forests that girdle the equator, the capital of an interplanetary empire founded at the mouth of an immense river lazily piling hundreds of tons of silt a year into delta marshes, its vast ports berthing wide, flat-bottomed barges hauling iron and salt and sand and cinnabar, barrels of fish and wine and oil and perfumes, tigerman janissaries and scholars and poets and wizards, all tallied and accounted for in the lightning thoughts of supercomputers domesticated by bureaucracy. spaceplanes like silver songbirds or leaping fish ferrying the nobility (who disdain regular shuttle flights from the tips of the space elevators as base transportation for commoners) from the surface of the planet to its moon above, or to any number of gleaming stations in high orbit.

A gas giant, pale as pearl streaked with delicate pink and green pastels, skirted by dozens of captured child-moons, many of them bearing the same unicorn banner, some of them mined for this or that rare earth element, cities buried under the shielding crust of a scant handful, and two of them habitiformed enough to support imperial hunting grounds - managed grasslands or forests full of imported game - and hunting lodges of squat domes and towering spires, mirrored labyrinthine greenhouse-gardens and treasure-vaults of platinum jewelry set with nebula-gems snatched from their condensation-nests in the gas giant's depths.

Another gas giant, the blues and purples of a ripe plum blushing from clouds of midnight-black marbled with gold, icy rings slicing through swirling lunar orbits, merchants and mercenaries and privateers gliding from port to port in their sapphire-hulled ships, out where the empire scrabbles to find purchase. hollowed-out asteroids house cylindrical farms or monasteries of fatalistic leonine faiths or the huddled bodies of wound-down murine clockwork eunuchs, commissioned to advise and amuse some tiger-empress whose phoenix standard had long since faded into obscurity by the time the founder of the unicorn-banner dynasty first rallied soldiers to his cause.

An Earth-sized ball of grey-green ice, glassy smooth surfaces broken up by cryovolcanoes pumping volatiles up from a sooty core to rain down again in miserable pattering drizzles of methane through ammonia blizzards.

An ice giant, the immense azure sphere its inward neighbor might have been were it not for the vagaries of fate as involved in early star system formation, accompanied by seventeen bitterly cold moons whose tides have woven something enormous and ponderous of thought out of the inner sea of supercritical fluids.

a dozen or more dwarf planets of packed stone and ice, swinging through the outer black clouds on vastly elliptical orbits, witnesses to tumbling nickel-iron visitors and alien probes relaying streams of blurry photography and other observations back to some unknown homeworld as they fall endlessly through interstellar space.

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sailorrlino · 11 months

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Crown | Teaser | lmh (m)

↣ Pairing: Unseelie!Lee Minho x Half fae!reader

↣ Summary: The prince of the Unseelie Court has a single job: find a suitable marriage to strengthen the ties of his court and to keep the peace of the city. But when he stumbles across you at a bar and feels the thread between you form, Minho knows immediately that he’s found his other half, his mate. When he comes across you again at the ball meant to find his marriage match, disaster ensues and the fight for his crown begins.

↣ Word Count: 916

↣ Type: Mini Series

↣ Genre: Urban Fantasy | Soulmates | Angst |

↣ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

↣ Warnings: Mild mentions of blood/past trauma, angst and bickering, tense conversation, sexual tension, explicit language

↣ A/N: Happy WIP Wednesday! I am so so excited to be writing this after being very intimidated and afraid to write for anyone other than BTS. I've been wanting to write something for Lee Know for a very long time! I hope you enjoy a peek into my chaotic brain and brand of chaos. Also thank you @rapline-heaux for vibe checking this for me and giving me the confidence and support to step out of my comfort zone and write in an unfamiliar fandom space.

Disclaimer: All members of Stray Kids are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Playlist | Ask |

FIRST CHAPTER POSTED NOW!

His grip grows tighter as you try to pull away. You grind your teeth and look up at him, ready to pull back cock your fist and let it fly. But you pause when you see the look on his face. You expect the same, dull anger that seems to never leave his face and voice. Instead you see desperation, Minho’s face painted lilac from lights behind you.

Time becomes imperceptible. His dark eyes reflect the coalescing lights, turning them shades of violet, fuschia, lavender. His gaze is fixed on you and instead of pinched brows and a frown, his eyes are softer. Rounder. His lips are parted, a plea locked just behind them on the tip of his tongue.

Again, you feel awareness sliver through you, the subtle tug toward him. Where his hand grips your wrist tingles, warmth spreading from the contact. This close, you can smell him: clove and honey, making your head dizzy. Not for the first time, you think that there is nothing better than his scent.

Without thinking much of it, you step closer. You wobble, a little uneven in your shoes and Minho’s other hand shoots to your hip, holding you steady. Base pulses through the floor of the club and up your spine, but it’s Minho who has you buzzing, drowsy, spinning.

Tilting your head up, you lean a little closer. His eyes are heavy-lidded, focused on your mouth. He pulls your wrist toward him a little, pressing it against his chest. You feel his heartbeat and it becomes the only thing you can hear, a rhythm that beats at the exact same time as yours.

Two creatures, two hearts, two bodies, one soul.

Minho’s lips are so close you can smell the honied whiskey on his breath. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, feeling his breath fan across your face. You just need to tip your mouth upward an inch to press your lips to his. You wonder if his mouth is as soft as it looks, as sweet as his breath smells. You want to try a taste, to close that distaste and press your lips together.

And yet you shouldn’t - can’t - have him.

You pull your hand away and step back, shattering the spell. For a moment, Minho’s eyes remained shut, face painted in shadows and swirling lights. He is so placid for a single moment that you think you’ll remember his expression of utter peace for the rest of your life.

Then he opens his eyes, and there’s nothing but darkness. His mouth smoothes out and his brows are pulled down, once more the impassive prince.

“Fine,” he murmurs. “Live the rest of your life in misery. Shouldn’t be much different than it is now, right?”

“Oh look, he does have claws. Here I was thinking you were entirely emotionless.” His jaw flexes but Minho says nothing else, resorting back to his usual, taciturn self. “Didn’t last long.”

This time, he doesn’t stop you when you turn on your heel and dive into the crowd of people. Even as you hurry away from him, lost in a sea of bodies, you can feel the thread that connects you to him. Anger thrums down the connection like a sour note plucked on a string instrument. You hate that you can feel his anger as hotly as your own and you move faster, trying to put distance between you. You hate that it’s the only way you know what he’s feeling.

Outside of the club, the air is sharp. Winter is finally descending on the city in full swing, wind howling down the alleyway and kicking up garbage as it goes. The ground smells wet from the afternoon rain and reeks of piss and beer-filled puddles.

You walk a few paces into the middle of the alley, hugging yourself and running your palms up and down your arms for warmth. Rage alone nearly fights off the cold as you scowl and curse under your breath. Minho makes you so angry and you barely know him. You hate the way his silent frown sends you into a fury and the way he has a logical answer for everything.

Trying to imagine a life where love and companionship is dictated by rules, logic and schedules sounds worse than experiencing any physical pain being away from him can cause. Your father is evidence enough that sometimes having a mate is worse than death.

Something skitters behind the dumpster a few yards away from you. Your head snaps in the direction of the sound, eyes narrowing. There are no safety lights on the sides of the building, bulbs broken or burned out. You can’t imagine they’ve been replaced in the last decade. The dumpster is near the dead end, tucked against the wall under a fire escape to the apartment above.

A soft clicking sound makes you lean forward and narrow your eyes. You can just make out the shape of something, you think. A blob of darkness that is darker than the shade cast by the lack of light. You take a step forward and you feel it then, the dull whir of energy that skitters across your skin.

Panic seizes your heart. You’d remember that otherworldly feeling from anywhere, memories of screaming and wet-hot blood splattering across skin playing through your mind as you take a single step backward. There is a soft chitchitchit of the creature's teeth and you freeze.

This is surely how you’ll die.

#lee know smut #lee minho smut #lino smut #lee know fanfic #skz minho smut #skz fanfic #lee know x reader #lee know #skz #stray kids #minors dni #minors do not interact #skz smut #lee know imagines

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toxic-ninja-master · 4 months

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🕷️ I’m Janine! A modern ninja and the Gym Leader of Fuschia City! I heard Lance, Clair and even Bugsy are here on Rotomblr so I decided to hop on too!

Oh yeah, and here’s my trainer card too!

Now, I do have Gym duties to take care of, so I won’t be on all the time, BUT! I’ll hop in when I can, okay?

Oh, also Dad and Papa will sometimes come on here, so you can ask them questions too!! I'll give them my phone so they can introduce themselves!!

⚡Hey there! Lieutenant Surge from Vermilion City here! If you wanna get your Thunder Badge, or even just go for a battle, now ya know where to find me!

Oh yeah, and here's my Trainer Card too!

Hey Koga! You're up!

🦇…………………….. hm.

🕷️… Well that went pretty okay?

⚡ Yeah, don’t worry about him Janny. Ya know how he is bout talkin’ to crowds.

((OOC Under the Read More))

Blanket Unreality Warning

Guess who lost their self control again, it's me

Overall rules for this blog will be that it is low/no stakes, because I don’t have the time/emotional strength for anything huge. Also, if you try to pull me into a plot without asking, I will not only delete your ask but block you. NSFW will also get you blocked as Janine, the default muse, is a minor on this blog.

About the Mod

Name is Lyra, age 29, she/they. This is a side-blog so I will be following from @batscrem This also isn’t the only pokemon irl blog I have, and the others are listed on here. OOC talk/posts will be tagged “((OOC))”, and in double parentheses, ((like this)), sometimes under a read-more depending on the topic.

About the Muses

Janine As the main/default muse for this blog, her text will be plain black and have a spider emoji (🕷️) as an indicator. Her posts will be tagged “Janine Speaking”.

Koga (Koga) Koga's text will be indicated by a bat emoji (🦇) and be purple. His posts will be tagged as “Koga Speaking.”

Lt. Surge (Lt. Surge) Surge’s text will be orange and be indicated by a lightning bolt (⚡). His posts will be tagged “Surge Speaking.”

#Pinned #Janine Speaking #Koga Speaking #Surge Speaking #pokemon irl #((OOC))

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dani-sdiary · 1 month

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Story: That Time When I Was 12 That My Mother Accidentally Took Me To A Burlesque Show

Mom's favorite book is The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas, a classic tale of adventure, justice, revenge, love, forgiveness, and, apparently, nipple pasties. So when she saw there would be a play adaptation running for one night only in the Big City near Hometown, she was so excited that she immediately bought the tickets without reading the playbill too closely.

So, there we were: country mice on an awfully big adventure, off to Big City to bond over wholesome, family-friendly fun in manner of Gilmore Girls or similar. The bouncer (there was a bouncer) asked to see our I.D.s, I said I wasn't 21 and asked if I could still sit in the theatre since the bar (there was a bar) was in the lobby. The bouncer said she'd ask her manager, but my mom went all real housewife gangsta on her: "I'm her mom, and it's okay with me that she's here." She wasn't about to miss the show when she'd already bought the tickets and had to take the train to get here, and the bouncer knew that. I love my mom.

We found our seats and I read the program while we waited for the curtain to come up. We started out like this:

"That's so weird, I didn't even know this place was 21+."

"Yeah, that seems strange for just a normal theatre, like any other. But everyone here is, like, super old."

Then we got to:

"Oh, so this is like, a modern re-telling?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Oh, so it must be like Clueless or 10 Things I Hate About You or something like that."

"Probably."

Then:

"Wait, this theatre company is called Manustrip?"

"Huh. That's a weird name."

And eventually:

"Mamá, is this a burlesque show?"

She didn't get the chance to reply before the show started, but I got my answer from Fuschia Folds, Annya Neese, and Miss Trixie Vermouth soon enough. Incredible performances, the highlight was watching two drag queens gag Villefort with her with her own barrister's band and whip her for misbehaving while sitting next to my middle-aged Catholic mother in a very vocal audience.

Where you lead, I will follow.

#burlesque #showbiz #performance #performing art #adult performer #theatre #the count of monte cristo #drama #story

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robotgirlservos · 10 months

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Name: Adennezene Fausfate III

Username: ChemicalHusk

Classpect: Maid of Void

Blood Color: Magenta???

Weapon type: Polearmkind

more details and story below!

Your name is ADENNEZENE FAUSFATE III and you have been stuck in this stupid EMPTY CITY your whole life. For you this is just normal, but anyone else would likely find it odd how the ELECTRICITY and WATER is still running, but there’s nothing except PERMANENT FIXTURES in each building, and no other people or animals or plants, aside from stupid grass.

Oh yeah, and it’s also ETERNALLY NIGHT, which would be very concerning if you had ever experienced daytime, but for you it’s just EXTREMELY COLD.

Your “days” are full of TRYING NOT TO STARVE when there’s no food to be found, TRYING NOT TO FREEZE when there’s no clothes or blankets besides what you have always been wearing, and TRYING NOT TO GIVE UP when everything is only getting harder. Basically, you would say that your favorite thing to do is TRYING NOT TO DIE, since that’s all you ever do.

To succeed in your favorite activity, you have had to develop some useful skills, one of them being SYNTHESIS of various resources, each with a certain amount of usefulness. The NUTRIENT PASTE you’ve survived on for your whole life comes to mind as the most useful, while on the other end of the spectrum is practically everything else you've managed to synthesize.

Though it seems something swept through this city long before your time and took everything that wasn’t NAILED DOWN, as they say, you’ve become quite adept at UN-NAILING THINGS DOWN, as they also definitely say. Being able to UN-NAIL THINGS DOWN has been essential to your survival, as no PRE-UN-NAILED-DOWN THINGS exist. You can even take UN-NAILING THINGS DOWN to an extreme degree, UN-NAILING things from the rest of themselves, breaking them into their base elements, or as they are better known: SMITHEREENS.

Smithereens have names too, and it would be rude to not acknowledge whenever the SMITHEREENS’ INITIALS came up in conversation. Like this:

“Th₁e qU₁I₂C₁K₁ Br₂O₂W₁N₂ F₂O₂x jU₁mP₁S₁ O₂vEr₁ Th₁e lazY₁ dOg₁. Se₁e? I₂Ts₁ No₁t Th₁at H₂Ar₁d.”

Some SMITHEREENS pair with themselves when isolated. They’re probably just lonely.

You know the feeling.

Your inventory can only hold one item of each type of SMITHEREEN. Whichever SMITHEREEN is most prevalent in an item determines the item’s overall SMITHEREEN type.

Certain things about Adennezene do not add up and throughout the session, they begin to build up and become more and more obvious.

She appears to be fuschia blooded but has no fins

She has no dream self

She has been in the game since before it began

She never runs out of stock for her trades

She has several static phrases for responding to certain sentences

She appears “simplified” when observed from far away

She fights like a bad videogame CPU

Eventually it all gets pieced together, but at this point Adennezene has become a close friend to everyone. You all showed her the joys of life she missed from struggling just to survive for who knows how long. She ate a sad, squished, day-old burger and cried because it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. You let her hold your scalemate and she was starstruck even before she learned it squeaked. So the group procrastinates. She deserves to know the truth about herself, but how do you tell her?

How do you tell someone that they’re an unfinished NPC?

And what happens when they learn the truth?

#homestuck #fantroll #robo beeps #I need a proper art tag #blood #but only a little #not sure what else to tag this with let me know if there's something I should add #oc: adennezene #homestuck oc #homestuck fantroll #fan troll

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phasebun · 4 months

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—OCS as OBSCURE ASSOCIATIONS

Solene "Sol" Nath | Bhaal's Devoted Spawn | hopeless romantic | ♡

Tagged by (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )づ♡ @julietvoid ♡♡♡ tysm!! your gorgerous Naenia gifs literally made me attempt them again---nah LOL another time ndhusgbfyhu

Soooo sorry for constant Sol, but she's been the mood as of late ♡

ANIMAL: black panthers COLOURS: amber | fuschia | black | scarlet MONTH: january SONGS: tear you apart by she wants revenge | saturday night by misfits

NUMBER: 80 (looks like someone screaming to her) PLANTS: bromeliad SMELLS: vanilla | small hint of ... metal? GEMSTONE: aragonite

TIME OF DAY: 6pm (busier the city, easier to conceal) SEASON: autumn PLACES: beaches | dungeons | caverns DRINKS: gnome eyes milkshakes (they're sweeter than you think) | ginger ale ELEMENT: fire or sulfur ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: capricorn FOOD: vanilla ice-cream with cookie bits | stews & hearty soups SEASONINGS: lemon pepper | cayenne | cardamom SKY: clear, with only the sounds of nature WEATHER: thunderstorms | sunny but windy MAGICAL POWER: of draconic ancestry/sorc | fire WEAPONS: halberds covered in a paralyzing agent | darts SOCIAL MEDIA: 'scuse me? (would be too paranoid tbh) MAKEUP PRODUCT: eyeliner | lip oils CANDY: lemonheads | almonds dipped in chocolate METHOD OF LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL: walking (if too far, brougham carriage)

ART STYLE: surrealism FEAR: Paemon dying, and not by her hand MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: sirens PIECE OF STATIONARY: scented wax paper THREE EMOJIS: 🌍😈🤭 CELESTIAL BODY: black hole

Tagging. @nightmareelise | @bugged-0ut | @greaveyard or honestly any mutual w/an OC cause yes, I love lore of any~~ if you waaaaant ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

#OC: Solene #Solene #bg3 #bg3 screenshot #baldurs gate 3 #my ocs #bg3 dark urge #dark urge #tiefling #Father's Favorite Girl

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12thperigeeball · 5 months

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is there a drawn out map of the mansion ?? it would be great to have for plotting and stuff

Hi anon!

So i'm gonna be upfront - ever since we got this like 5 days ago, I have been trying very hard to figure out and draw out a rough idea of what I believe the ball looks like.

Unfortunately, I have failed. I am not a skilled architect to place my ideas on paper and make it look workable

SO, TEXT DESCRIPTION IT IS. The ball has always left the grounds amorphous, so people have the flexibility to headcanon in what they need or want to have at a ball, as well as allow people to create their own backdrops for their RPs that they need (such as hedge mazes, kitchens, VIP rooms, secret evil bunker lair under the mansion, whatever!) to achieve whatever their RP threads aim to do!

Here are some things to keep in mind, under the cut:

Canonically, the ball is held in a mansion tucked away at the base of a valley between two mountains near a major city. Far enough away to sell the illusion of being removed from society, yet close enough that it isn't difficult for even the lowest caste of troll to hitch a ride there. The mansion itself is large, with a U shape that hugs a small lake that has pooled in the valley. This leaves the ball with a lovely view of the water and privacy for those who will stay there. The lake itself is swimmable, and has a handful of boats that allow people to traverse it for a romantic moment. The boats, however, are limited, so reserve your turn ahead of time!

As of the 12th Perigee Ball 2022, one of the cliffs that surround the lake was destroyed after the ball ended after an unruly guest with a rocket launcher broke the 'no live weapons' rule. Kilran honestly should have seen it coming.

As of 12th Perigee Ball 2023, with the funding of a VERY rich fuschia clown ancestor-in-law, the cliff has been repaired, re-planted with foliage, and the lake even got terraformed into a heart shape, increasing it's appeal to guests.

The mansion is quite lavish on the inside with a custom foyer depicting paintings of the previous ball Kings and Queens leading into a gargantuan, three level ballroom. On the first floor, social areas with tables and couches are placed to facilitate a place to rest, while the second floor is reserved for dancing. A stage where performers and an orchestra can play lies against the back wall, near the doors to reach the wrap around balcony that allows guests to admire the lake.

The third floor is a simple balcony view, where the VIP guests can enjoy the main hall's music and festivities. These are connected to the VIP rooms, with their own dance floors, performance stages, and social areas. These are accessible through elevators and stairs just off of the main dance hall.

Outside of the ballroom is an extensively decorated garden specifically planted and geared towards beautifying a winter landscape. Ice Sculptures are common, as well as semi-private gazebos and pavilions for couples to have their own romantic moments in.

Next to the main ball rooms are the fully furnished dining rooms, which allow trolls to sit either individually or in a group and order from the waiters who will serve them food. When it comes to the feast time, a large table is placed at the front of the main dining rooms where the host and his personal guests sit.

There are multiple bars situated within the dining room, the ball room, and the outside gardens where trolls may order drinks, but alcoholic drinks aren't served until 11PM when the underage trolls are removed from the premise.

The mansion itself has social rooms for trolls to retreat to beyond the ball rooms. These are wings of rooms on the first and second floor, and are filled with crackling fireplaces and sofas for trolls to lounge on along with butlers who can serve them drinks and snacks.

There are further wings of the mansion that are blocked off during ball time. These are the personal bedrooms of the host, his personal guests, and any VIP guests who would prefer to pay to reside at the ball itself for the duration of the ball. They are heavily guarded with physical and digital security and trolls found leaving the allotted public ball grounds are rebuffed back to where they should be.

There are also spa, makeup, and tailoring services and facilities for trolls who rent a room at the mansion.

#mod cal #qna #WHEW #listen i struggled trying to draw it AND build a rough idea in sims 4 #every time i was defeated #so i hope this helps!

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