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#I think she just has some cool powers

summerbummin · 1 month

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For the lightsinger/siren Gwyn theory what if not only could she do hypnotic singing but also use a scream as a weapon like Black Canary

#gwyn berdara #acotar #acosf #lightsinger #lightsinger gwyn berdara #siren gwyn berdara #theory #btw I don’t think Gwyn is evil #I think she just has some cool powers #she’s only part lightsinger/siren #because of grandma #gwyn with a canary cry would be dope af

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purpleshadow-star · 8 months

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Imagine if Nico could learn to control when he turns into shadows.

Like, in The Blood of Olympus Nico would start fading after shadow traveling too much, and sometimes Reyna and Coach Hedge wouldn't be able to touch him, and one time he even accidentally walked through a tree. Imagine if he learned to control that intangibility.

Imagine if he could just turn parts of his body into shadows. Imagine if, in a fight, someone swings at him, and he knows he can't dodge in time, so he turns into shadows for a second so the weapon goes right through him, and while his enemy is confused he uses the distraction to land the final blow.

Imagine if he could just walk/reach through walls and doors and stuff.

I just think that, for someone with the title of ghost king (and as a child of the Underworld), he deserves more ghost-like powers.

#i might write a fic about this 🤔#we'll see #i just think itd be so cool #he would be the best at a haunted house #and it would be so useful in fights #maybe now that he's taking better care of himself post tsats he'll have enough energy to not get so tired after using his powers #so itll be safer to start experimenting with smth like this #tbh i think nico has the best potential power-wise bc the underworld is so vast so he could potentially have a lot of different abilities #hazel too tbh #like we've seen that nico can control the earth/rocks so i bet hazel has some contol over the dead and she just hasnt really tried yet #but im getting off topic lol #point is i think nico should have the ability to basically become a ghost at will (but not in the dying way)#nico di angelo #riordanverse #rick riordan #heros of olympus #pjo hoo toa

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seagullcharmer · 5 months

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rusty lake posting (again)

this is really just a little thing but i keep thinking abt it. i've seen people talk abt how horrible nicholas is (he is!) but thru the lens of his marriage to caroline and how he's completely grey by the time david is born ('ewwww he must be soooo old!') and while i do believe he's older than caroline, i don't think it's as awful as people make it out to be. sure, we don't know for certain the age difference between him and caroline, nor between him and gerard, or his age in general really, but i do believe he went prematurely grey. this is entirely because when we see david (canonically somewhere between 15-17, due to him being Very Small in the family portrait where jakob says 'my family, 15 years ago' or whatever) without his hat, guess what! his hair's turning grey!

idk if i had a point with this. i just like thinking abt the eilanders.

#libra.txt #unrelated but caroline is so powerful. she based her entire look off of that one painting of salome with the head of john the baptist #like girl. where did you get that blue dye. and the intricate beading of her headpiece.#i do believe she did the work herself. all to cosplay this one girl.#caroline you sure made some fascinating choices #yeah nicholas is terrible but i like to think there was some affection between them. at least at one point #maybe he thought she was really cool for cosplaying a painting #although it's still just. an interesting choice. rusty lake i want to understand why #i want to know more abt caroline. like there's gotta be a reason beyond just the aesthetics right?#what does it mean abt her?#although it is an interesting inverse. salome asks for the head of john the baptist while caroline refuses to let her son be sacrificed #it's not a 1:1 inversion but it's still an interesting contrasted parallel #idk how to do proper analysis. if anyone else has thoughts though my askbox is always open

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crimsonscloud · 6 months

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have yet to work on the Chloe Meta more because i have other things to do but i'm thinking about it, so here's a few things i'm rotating in my mind:

chloe is an epithet of the greek goddess demeter and refers to the young, green foliage or shoots of plants. chloe's tattoo contains leaves, thorns and flowers.

max's vision of the storm at the lighthouse comes right after chloe curses the bay for "taking away everyone [she] ever loved" and this is then followed by a sudden snowfall. demeter is believed to have caused winter and famine when persephone left to be with hades.

the newspapers max can find talking about the animal deaths and other anomalies describe them as "inexplicable" and there's no apparent environmental explanation for them. what did this immediately make me think of? the forest fire in before the storm set by rachel, which is also described as mysterious.

off that, rose amber describes chloe as a "force of nature" when you talk to her in before the storm and says this could be why she and rachel get along so well. side eyeing that.

"this could be rachel's revenge... our revenge." do you see the prospero/prospera and ariel parallels here. because i'm seeing them.

in max's nightmare, the "ghost max" in the diner starts to tell max she's being stupid and that "someday chloe will destroy-" but gets cut off when chloe comes over to the booth. since she was just talking about her being toxic for max (getting her in trouble, forcing max to time travel to save her) the first interpretation is that that's what she means, i.e. chloe will destroy max through her own self destructive behaviors. but when i read back through the transcript for polarized and saw this bit i went eyes emoji at it because "ghost max" could have also been talking about the storm.

the storm and the associated anomalies persist in some way relating to chloe even in other timelines. max sees beached whales in the alternate timeline, where that chloe is still angry at the world, even if she's better at hiding it. watch her reaction if max refuses the choice she gives her. in the comics, waves!chloe builds a sculpture that is called "the storm" (this chloe also keeps getting flashes of deja vu from the dust timeline, so that's interesting). when i saw this panel i jumped. look at the symbolism in there. chloe builds "the storm". chloe builds the storm.

in general the devs of before the storm like to put a lot of focus on stating how destructive chloe is as a person. life is strange also loves to use the personality powers trope. this is definitely the case with max -- she questions her decisions, she's hesitant, she can be a little slow to action sometimes, so: time powers. for chloe, someone who the devs describe as "a wrecking ball" and being very brash, and someone who harbors a lot of resentment and anger (justified or not), wouldn't a destructive power like that (however you classify it) with such a connection to her emotions fit her?

#life is strange #life is strange before the storm #life is strange comic spoilers #lis comic spoilers #(brief mention but tagging just in case)#chloe price #chloe price has powers #“a few things” she says (writes a paragraph)#i've seen a few chloe has powers fics but not a lot of them use the storm as an idea #since it's been so often attributed to rachel #which is cool too but after playing bts i tend to associate rachel more with fire #and the force of nature line made me think if rachel has that what's chloe's thing #so spawned this idea #idk i just think the idea of chloe being powerful and not really knowing it #(not having the chance to know if you sacrifice her)#is something that's both interesting and utterly tragic #which i think fits this series as a whole lol #interested to see where anyone else takes this #could make for some neat post game fic ideas #or alternate universes

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ecoamerica · 24 days

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dollyreblogs · 2 years

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YOU KNOW WHAT!? IARA IS DISRESPECTFUL AS HELL TOO WHEN SHE'S FIGHTING. Keep in mind, she has ENTIRE LIFETIMES worth of fighting and she was literally killed in her first life because she was that much of a warrior (technically, her brothers attempted to kill her but she killed them so Ra's had to take her by surprise or else he could've died) so whenever Iara unlocks a new combat ability or past life, she goes from a shy little sweetheart whose all awkward and has no social skills to A STRAIGHT BEAST. Like I said, the only reason she holds back is because she doesn't want Jaci to hate her and that Kojo got offended when she was holding back against him, NOT KNOWING THAT IT WAS A SAVING GRACE ACTUALLY and that Damian used to act all high and mighty because he stabbed her throat and made her mute but again, IARA HOLDS BACK FOR THE SAKE OF HER FAMILY AND WHEN I SAY HOLD BACK, I MEAN SHE'S REALLY HOLDING BACK.

But one of her abilities is some Naruto Susanoo shit where she can use her energy to create a giant avatar of herself (obviously it resembles her in her first life) to attack and level people so she's fighting Denji and he's summoning a whole ass storm and lightning and shit and he hits her with a tsunami which breaks her avatar and she ends up flying and Denji is all: "Your skills are impressive. You were almost a challenge."

And Iara just signs at him and is all: "Not bad but what are you gonna do about the second avatar?"

And Denji has to process what she said before turning around and seeing there's another avatar she created with her energy and when he tries to attack it with an insane amount of lightning, it stops his attack with a pinkie finger and then just slams him into the ground.

#SHE ON SOME ANIME SHIT #Iara Al Ghul #AND THE THING IS SHE DISRESLECTS THE ENTIRE YAMISOKA'S BY TAKING DENJI DOWN SO EASILY.#THE ONLY ONES WHO'D STAND A GOOD CHANCE AGAINST HER WOULD BE EIJI (at full power) AND HIBIKI.#BUT EVEN THEN THE FIGHT WOULD END WITH HER NOT WANTING TO KILL THEM AND HIBIKI GETTING BORED.#But yeah she has riencarnated and each riencarnation was trained to fight and create their own fighting styles.#Fighting styles that haven't been heard of because it's past down from past life to past life.#She has to train and meditaite consrantly to unlock new abilities #And be able to survive using them.#idk I just think she's a really cool character to me but yeah.

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gallusrostromegalus · 7 months

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The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

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I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

youtube

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

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So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

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#Family Lore #Dogs #It's Halloween babey #friday the 13th #blood mention #I hope that kid had a good night and at least one of his friends believed him #Long post #Video

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