#esoteric rangers

[preservationofnormalcy]

[As I climb the multiple levels of stairs to the ranger tower, I take a moment to stop and reflect. I’m exhausted - after the hike to get here, the relief that I felt upon seeing the tower was tempered by the realization I had several flights of stairs ahead of me. I was in Washington State, flown here by my handlers to talk to seemingly the only Esoteric Ranger that would be available for the next month. Not for the first time, I wondered what it meant that they heavily suggested my interview subjects. The best person for the job, or the best PR face in the department?

I reach the top and stop again, and take a drink of water. A figure sitting inside the room at the top turns and sees me, and gets up to open the door. He is young, in his mid to late twenties, long brown hair done up in a bun, a large scraggly beard over the top of his ranger uniform. He has a look of amusement on his face, a sort of polite smile doing its best to cover up a smirk. His accent is thick, Appalachian, and his demeanor still manages to convey a sort of genial calm.]

S] Meghan, right?

M] Yeah. Hold on, let me…catch my breath.

S] Aint no worry. Take the time you need. I’ll just leave the door propped open. And if it helps, there’s iced tea in here waiting for you.

M] That does help. I’ll just….be a second.

[After a moment, I joined the man in the observation room. A cot, a shelf of supplies, a desk with a radio setup, a laptop on a table. A simple room for an apparently complex job. The tree-eye logo of the Rangers is plastered on many surfaces, well worn.]

M] Sheamus Doyle, right?

S] Yes ma’am.

M] I’m Meghan.

S] Pleasure to meet you. Lemme just….

[He takes a jug of iced tea from a minifridge and pours some into two mismatched cups, sitting at the small table and glancing at his laptop for a moment as I sit across from him.]

S] Pardon me, just watchin’ the ‘squatches.

M] Watching?

[He turns the screen around - a topographic map of the area is displayed, black with white lines, with about a dozen white dots congregating in two places.]

S] We’ve been watching the cryptid migrations. They been odd since….well, since. Ain’t been following their normal routes.

M] Is that what the Rangers do? I’m sure you know I’m here to ask questions, so….I guess that’ll be my first one.

S] A large part of it, yes ma’am. Cryptid watch.

M] I guess that’s the “catch and release” part of the poster I saw.

S] Mhmm. It’s hard work, y’know. Better here’n in the Everglades taggin’ skunk apes though.

M] Let me look at my notes…kind of scrambled after the hike here.

S] Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Everyone’s gotta do a stint in the firewatch, and we pull double duty takin’ notes on the ‘squatches while we’re here.

M] Tell me a little about the Esoteric Rangers.

S] We’re older than the Office is. Bet they ain’t told you that.

M] How so?

S] Office was founded in ‘27, right? E-Rangers were a secret division of the National Park Service, founded –

M] 1916, eleven years earlier.

S] That’s right. Even then they knew weird stuff happens in the forests, so they had a little bit earmarked for people to investigate or protect people from the weird stuff, and the weird stuff from people. When the Office came around later, we got folded into them instead. But by that time, y’know. Eleven years. That’s enough time for a place to develop a sort of….culture.

M] How do you mean?

S] We’re under the jurisdiction of the Office for the Preservation of Normalcy, ma’am, but between you an’ me, the Rangers have our own ways of doing things, our own rules. Was a requirement of the merger.

M] I see. So forested areas are your jurisdiction?

S] Anything that takes place on ‘r around a national park or a nature preserve usually has at least one of us onsite. We have our checklists, our methods for findin’ out what’s going on. Weird shit happens far from civilization.

M] Like what?

S] Reality sorta…gets weak, out here. I heard y’talked to Wren.

M] I did.

S] They’re always on about that noosphere stuff. Out here, with no people, noosphere kinda gets a little…wobbly. It’s like…if enough human minds are the bungee cords holdin’ down a tarp. It’s fine most of the time, but sometimes there’s a wind, you know? The noosphere don’t have the guidance to tell it what to do, so you get…

[He trailed off.]

M] What?

S] I seen weird shit, ma’am. Woodpeckers that move backwards, sealing up holes in trees. Hikers from twenty years ago, missing their faces. Places where the sun never shines, like that old song. Areas that looked like Lucifer’s vacation home, all burned and sulphur-smoke. Deer speakin’ in the voices of dead relatives, antlers shining blue. Gunshots where there shouldn’t be people. Realspace is weak out here. Veil gets thin when there ain’t no one to see it.

M] Is all that true?

S] As true as Mama’s promises.

M] Mmh. Tell me about the….cryptids. What is a cryptid? I know it’s like…unknown creatures, but for you they’re clearly….known, right?

[He sat back after a drink of his tea, giving a wince and a so-so gesture of his hand.]

S] That’s the mundane definition, yeah. The Office’s definition of a cryptid is….a creature whose existence ain’t really evolutionarily plausible, that would raise a lot a’ questions were it known. Jackalopes, you know, no other bunny has antlers, sort of thing. They probably didn’t evolve, per se, so…

M] What about the sasquatch? Wouldn’t it just be seen as a missing link?

[He nods, thinks for a second, looks at his computer, and then jerks his head to the door.]

S] Lemme show you something.

[On the platform outside, bolted onto the railing, is a telescope - or I assume it is. Attached to the long barrel of the device are a lot of wires, a plastic casing that looked like it housed a small electronic assembly, and a revolving series of lenses that look like they can be rotated into the eye ports like an optometrist’s testing machine. He looks into the scope, adjusting the lenses and a few knobs on the side of the device, and locks it into place.]

S] Here, take a look.

[I look into the scope - for a moment, I think there’s something wrong with it. I can see a clearing in the forest, and three….shapes. Smudges on the lenses? No, he’d have seen that. The shapes are blurry blobs from this distance, out of sync from their sharper surroundings. I’m about to take my eyes away from the scope and ask what I’m looking at when I feel him reach over and adjust the lenses again, rotating a new set into place. It’s accompanied by an electric click and a soft whine from the device, and now I can see them clearly. The three blobs were large, humanoid figures, covered head to toe in rusty brown fur. One stands guard in the clearing, while another sits on a stone, grooming the fur of a third, possibly a juvenile. They are...impossible. Majestic creatures, even from this distance.]

S] We call it an Obfuscation Field. They’re sort of always….blurry. In the 30’s we developed techniques to see through it, y’know, but it’s one of those things people can’t find out about.

M] Unbelievable.

S] Somethin’ wrong?

M] It’s just…this whole time, you know?

[He leaned on the railing, taking a vape pen out of his shirt pocket.]

S] Yeah, I heard they kind of threw you into all this. Sink ‘r swim. I wager most people get a slower introduction.

M] Did you?

[He took a hit of his vape pen.]

M] Should you be doing that on the job?

[He gave me an amused look, gesturing around to the forest. I could almost imagine a hypothetical camera comically zooming out to show the remoteness of the tower.]

S] Nah, I grew up in all this. My family’s been practicing “The Work”, so to speak, since they came here four or five generations ago. I never got the hang of witchcraft, myself. You get a dud every other generation, so they say. My sister’s a natural though, she’s interning with the Office in Archival.

M] Some people are sort of…born into knowing this stuff.

S] We call it being “in the community”. At a certain point it all blends together. Your family does folk magic at a certain level, you grow up with your best friend bein’ a lycan, that kinda thing.

M] I feel like I’ve missed out.

S] Ma’am, sometimes it’s more trouble’n it’s worth.

M] Yeah?

S] I love my friends, my family, but….you think I wouldn’t flick a switch, give all this up? Be Sheamus the hipster and not Sheamus the cryptid hunter? Be a hell of a lot more simple. Weird shit attracts more weird shit.

[He took another hit, exhaling a thick cloud. For a moment, shapes in the cloud coalesce - the prominent brow of an ape, a rabbit with antlers. I wonder if he was being modest about his lack of magic.]

M] I’m not really sure.

S] You’re letting it get to you, all of this. So quick, so extreme. I think you need an industrial grade chill pill, ma’am.

M] Maybe I do.

S] I got a guy coming in to bring me supplies tonight. Stay here, watch the sunset, you drive back with him.

M] Are you sure?

S] Hundred percent. Take the evenin’, ma’am. You need it.

(Buy the poster here!)

#office for the preservation of normalcy #interview #esoteric rangers #cryptids #Bigfoot #sasquatch #jackalope #cryptidcore #in the pines in the pines #ooc: sorry I’ve been so quiet. hopefully back on the horse <3 #urban fantasy

[rogueddie]

Creature Feature Steddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 🖤

Who Embraces the Monsters

novemberthorne

"I'll never fucking forget you," Steve tells Eddie genuinely, letting himself feel all those vulnerable things he usually just swallows down.

Eddie just looks.

The black ink under his skin has spread into his face, and it's pulsing, shifting under the surface, moving like a living thing. It's seeped into his eyes, black bleeding into the white of them and starting to take over.

Then Eddie smiles, and it's a monster's smile.

"Go," he just says.

And despite every cell in his body rioting against it, Steve leaves.

Words : 10,373 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Cassiopeia, Orion, Bootes

AidaRonan

When Steve finds the flyer for Bayou Bobby's midnight swamp tours, he's excited to finally get the opportunity to do something interesting on his work trip to New Orleans. Until he finds out he's human bait for something that lives in the swamp. Something with claws and scales and eyes that glow red in the moonlight.

Words : 10,780 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

and the ships are left to rust

severaldragons

There is something strange in Lovers Lake, and Eddie Munson is a sucker of the highest order.

Words : 4,499 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Don't Talk to Strangers (Cause They're Only There to Do You Harm)

montemoon

Eddie Munson decides to summon a demon, he gets Steve. What's the worst that could happen?

Words : 12,110 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

paradise by the dashboard light.

oaseas

Things were weird in Hawkins. The fields were rotting, there was something in the woods, and Steve Harrington's Beemer had a new problem every week.

Words : 154,035 Chapters : 8/8 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Hic sunt dracones

Just_my_latest_hyperfixation

The day that Prince Steven Harrington turns twenty is the first sunny spring day after a seemingly endless spell of heavy rain that left the castle grounds drowning in mud and its inhabitants freezing and miserable in the inescapable dampness of everything.

But that is not why he will remember it so vividly for the rest of his life.

It is also the day that his father, King Richard, chooses to ride off into war with great fanfare, to strengthen the glory of Hawkins and expand its wealth and territory.

But this also isn’t why the day will be forever ingrained in his memory.

No, the actual reason Steve knows that he will not forget his twentieth birthday until the moment his heart stops beating and his eyes close forever is an entirely different one.

It is the day he finds the dragon.

Words : 99,706 Chapters : 15/15 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

I’m on the Hunt (I’m After You)

OhlioOh

Odd is Eddie Munson’s thing, acquiring knowledge of the esoteric and strange a core tenet of his personality. Yet Hawkins National Park had been one big, beautiful blind spot. Plenty of people visit, plenty of people vanish, and yet not a soul is talking about it.

Something is stalking these woods, and Eddie is going to be the one to find it.

If only Park Ranger Steve Harrington wasn’t such a giant, unfairly attractive pain in his ass.

Words : 16,362 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

Runnin' With the Devil

Monsterunderthefedora

Eddie "The Freak" Munson continues to live up to his name when he tries to summon a demon as a joke. Not only does it work but now he's stuck with the guy until he can finally decides what he's willing to trade his soul for.

Steve just wants to finish the job as quickly as possible but despite himself, finds he's falling in love with the mortal who summoned him. He knows this won't end well for either of them.

Words : 17,412 Chapters : 15/15 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

I'm Going Through Changes

Hawkkind

When Steve Harrington tossed all the kids up out of the tunnels to safety, knowing he'd be left behind for the pack to feast on, he had expected to die. One moment he was in extricating pain, begging for release, the next? He was waking up, dazed, confused, and impossibly alive.

Post rebirth, he's dealing with strange cravings. Not exactly his fault, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Now in this time of uncertainty, how is he supposed to explain to the local drug dealer that he is not in fact, tweaking out and or a murderer.

Words : 2,961 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #fic rec #ficrec

[blackjackkent]

Jaheira's office does indeed look completely overgrown, which is apropos to be honest.

There's several notes in here from various people regarding her investigations into the cult and the shadowlands prior to her departure to Last Light. Also a note from the Flaming Fist indicating that Rion and Jord have been helping to "settle street disputes" in a fashion the Fist disapproves of, and a clipping from the Baldur's Mouth Gazette relating to the Beloved Ranger statue (which was actually Minsc) disappearing.

There's a button operated by the pin Tate gave us on the side of her desk; it opens a pathway down into "Jaheira's Hideout" beneath the house.

Whoa.

There are quite a number of these traps set up. The Narrator informs us, on a passed arcana check, that these are attuned to the druid who set them - Jaheira - but that they can be overwhelmed by being hit with the same element.

I trust you implicitly, Jaheira, and also I can't figure out what pressure plate you're talking about. So I hope you're right. XD

At the bottom of the hill is... well, a sort of paradise.

A gorgeous green lagoon rounded with trees and plants and a run-down but sturdy house of wood and thatch. Next to it is a badger, labeled "Postmaster Badger", and several "Messenger Rats."

"The only patch of wilderness this city permits me," Jaheira says wistfully. "There ought to be supplies here to aid us."

"You know this place, Boo?" Minsc says indignantly. "Hmph. Minsc has never been invited."

Everything inside the house is trapped. XD I quicksaved aggressively while disarming everything because I was very afraid of exploding Jaheira's sanctuary by accident.

In disarming the traps, Hector finds a hidden door behind a bookshelf.

Jaheira reaches out and puts a hand on his arm before he can proceed. "Keen eye," she says quietly. "But if it's supplies you seek, weapons to aid in our fight - you won't find them behind that door." He can hear a sudden effort in her voice, one he knows all too well - the struggle against sudden emotion. "There is nothing back there of worth to anyone but me."

Hector looks at her thoughtfully. His curiosity is piqued, certainly, and it is a powerful force on its own - but more than that, he has been fascinated, over this past hour or so, at seeing beneath the brittle shell that Jaheira always presents to the world. "If it matters to you, it matters to me," he says earnestly.

She looks away from him, her eyes flicking rapidly around the room. "On my word," she mutters. "All you will find inside is dust, and the mouldering keepsakes of a much younger woman."

"Jaheira," Minsc rumbles gently. "Our friend has put their trust in us. Boo thinks it only right to return the gesture, no?"

For a moment, Hector thinks she is going to lash out, defensive-- but then she hesitates, and smiles ruefully. "You so rarely make a habit of being right, ranger, that it puts me ill at ease when you are." She sighs, looks back to Hector and nods. "Pass, then. Go on. See what it is a foolish old Harper thinks worth hiding away."

Hector holds himself still for a moment, giving her the chance to change her mind. He is curious, and he welcomes the chance to connect with her here-- but he will not push where he isn't wanted.

When she doesn't object, he leans over and pushes the bookcase aside.

It's an unassuming little area, really - no more than a dirt cave behind the house. A large chest, several display cases and crates and a table covered in scrolls.

-----

The table first, and the scroll on it:

"Rite of the Timeless Body," Hector says thoughtfully. "What's that about? I'd best ask Jaheira."

"I found a strange scroll in your sanctuary. Something about a 'timeless body'?"

She snorts. "The threat of spanking never kept the children from poking through my things. Why should it deter you." She glances at the paper on the table. "It is... a ritual. Or it describes one at least. Practiced by druids of certain esoteric circles. If they be learned and powerful enough, the practitioner of this ritual might slow their aging, extend their life well beyond its natural reach. In greener days, I might have been strong enough to do it. I might be yet, with the right preparations."

Hector blinks. "So you plan to do it?"

Jaheira hesitates, shrugs. "I make no plans. Only... contingencies." She scowls, seeing the expression on his face. "Do not look at me like that. I have been content to see the span of my natural years - a privilege far too few in this world can claim. I do not speak of clinging to life for its own sake. I just... look back on that life's work and I wonder... is it done?"

She lets out a heavy breath and leans against the wall of the building behind them. "The Dead Three plague the world still. The city still falls prey to small minds like Gortash or lost souls like Orin. It is every Harper's hope to be a light that drives out darkness. But I've lived long enough to see so many of those lights burn out, while the shadows cling stubbornly on. Knowing that, isn't it our duty to burn on if we can? To fight for as long as we are able?"

Karlach gives a sudden, sharp laugh at Hector's side. "You're preaching to the doomed choir, ma'am," she says sardonically.

Jaheira smiles sadly. "You've done more than your share of fighting already, Karlach," she says. "If there is one person I would trust to make the most of a longer life, it is you."

Hector knows he shouldn't ask, he knows it isn't fair with Karlach standing right there to hear him... but the words slip out anyway. "Would you live on at any cost?" he asks.

She quirks an eyebrow at him. "In truth, I had put this ritual from my mind - until Last Light. Trapped in that darkness, I turned to my research again. What if I was a little stronger? As fast as I once had been?" She shrugs. "Then you came, and made the question moot. But I kept this. Just in case, I told myself. A final resort. Perhaps you were not the savior you seemed. I had learned better than to think of life as some simple tale, after all. There is no guarantee of happy endings, or true heroes."

She looks at him thoughtfully for a moment before going on. "I believe that still. But when I look on all we have achieved since, I wonder... perhaps it is not heroes we need. Only people who are willing to try. I do not know what manner of story that makes. But I do know that, without an ending, it would be no story at all." She gives a short, sharp nod. "So I will accept mine, when and however it comes. As for this city's story, well..." She grins suddenly, pockets the scroll. "Well, that is entirely your problem now, cub."

He smiles slightly. "I'm honored you think of me that way."

"Hah. Do not thank me for slinging a weight around your neck," she says dryly. "I might start to feel bad." She huffs out a breath and shakes her head. "I do mean what I say - but I am also a Harper. In every honeyed word, there is a hook. But I do not plan on going anywhere just yet."

She pauses, and then grins with gallows humor. "And besides, you still have a tadpole in your skull. You are almost certainly going to die first."

Hector doesn't really think that's particularly funny.

-----

(A/N: Time for some incredibly self-indulgent headcanon - in this worldstate and in my particular headcanons for Jaheira post-BG2, you cannot convince me that she didn't obtain the information on that ritual partially for Rasaad, knowing she was going to outlive him by a century and not wanting to face losing another man she loved. Though I think the more altruistic explanations for her wanting it still also applied. (And perhaps Rasaad wouldn't have accepted it anyway even if she'd been able to figure it out.) She does say she put it aside for quite a while, until Last Light. Probably after Rasaad died.)

-----

Throwbacks!

There are two Very Rare quality weapons in the chest opposite the table:

This is a scimitar first found in a haybale near the Druid's Grove outside Trademeet, in Baldur's Gate 2.

This staff is obtained in Watcher's Keep in the Throne of Bhaal expansion. Caden (to my recollection) never went there during my playthrough, but that doesn't mean he didn't while I wasn't paying attention. ;) Cespenar also apparently can upgrade it in the pocket plane.

I miss Cespenar. I hope he's doing well.

-----

Finally, at the back of the room is a slightly dusty-looking display case.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Aw man, c'mon, I just teared up. You can't hit me with a throwback like that and expect me to remain normal.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

This is the necklace that Khalid makes for Jaheira (if you help him) in the Siege of Dragonspear expansion between BG1 and BG2. He was incredibly cute about it and talked about how he declared his love for her for the first time. SHE was incredibly cute about it and talked about how lucky she was to have him. The item description was also incredibly cute and talked about how just wearing it revitalized her.

HNNNNGNNNGHHHH I NEED TO GO LIE DOWN.

*quiet wailing*

We can ask her about it further, too.

"About that amulet I found in your house..."

"Oh dear," she says, looking at him warily. "Should I brace myself for some fashion advice?"

She pauses, then sighs. "But I suppose you have earned better than glibness from me. It was a gift from my husband, Khalid."

He can hear the emotion that rockets through her with the single word. He is sure he sounds much the same when he speaks of Karlach.

"He was a Harper," she goes on. Her expression grows distant, lost in memory. "A better one than me, truth be told. Any idiot can swing a sword. But to believe in the cause, with the whole of your heart? A much trickier thing."

She draws a breath and lets it out shakily. "He died. Alone, in pain, and far too young. Murdered by a mage who craved immortality." A muscle works in her cheek. "I'll not grant it by naming him in the same breath as my husband."

[HISTORY] Recall what you know of Khalid.

Narrator: The quiet, unassuming shadow to Jaheira's strength, Khalid was another warrior who helped end the Bhaalspawn crisis. Shortly after, he was murdered by the mad mage Jon Irenicus.

Hector and Jaheira have spoken of this a little before. Jaheira first mentioned him in the context of Karlach's engine, and the impending similar loss that Hector faces himself. In that moment, and in this one, he felt and feels a sudden deep surge of connection with her, a terrible bond that steadies and reassures him even if he wishes neither of them had to bear it. He is not alone, and neither is she. He hopes his presence gives her similar solace.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I hope I didn't bring up any bad memories."

She smiles weakly. "Nothing that wasn't already there, fear not," she says. "But I've lived many lifetimes since Khalid died. You, ah..." She trails off before the slight shiver in her voice can take root and blossom into tears. "You twine your life around the people you love. And when they are gone, you grow around their absence instead. It is just another way they shape you..."

She swallows, then goes on suddenly louder, faster-- "Which is my sage way of saying... I am in no danger of forgetting how my husband died. But I choose to remember how he lived."

(A/N: God, the writing in this game is gorgeous.)

Hector wonders, briefly, what Karlach thinks of this conversation, but he does not dare to look at her, or that same emotion will rise into his own throat and choke him. Instead, he focuses on Jaheira, listening intently. I choose to remember how he lived. "Tell me something about him no one else knows," he says, tone deliberately light.

She gives a slight laugh. "Most Harpers swagger and flash their feathers to catch your attention. Khalid was of a quieter sort," she says. "I have never known a warrior who would go so far out of his way to avoid a fight. Which meant the few he chose were usually the right ones." She pauses, and then laughs again, shakier this time. "And when we were married... on an upturned cart in the rainy Dalelands... he stammered so much, I've never been sure if our vows actually counted."

Hector smiles. "You seem an odd pairing," he says, gently teasing.

Her eyes narrow, taking on a sudden almost playful air. "The druid in me would like to say it was a thing of balance. The younger woman recalls rather more about a fine bottom-- and the habit not to speak unless he had something to say."

This comment is so unexpected that it startles a laugh out of Hector - and he's relieved to hear Karlach laughing too, behind him. Jaheira looks rather pleased with herself at the reaction.

"The songs make much of Khalid's meekness," she goes on after a little while, more seriously. "The quiet little Harper who had to keep a tight hold on his courage. But he had it when it counted. And more than that-- he had compassion. When you live a Harper's life, see all that a Harper sees, that is by far the harder thing to hold onto."

She looks down at the aquamarine pendant in her hands, then slips it around her neck. "But a bard can tell you all the rest," she says, turning away. "As for all the things they cannot... well. I shall just have to keep those for myself."

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #AHHHHHHHHHHH #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #y'all i love jaheira so much okay #and i'm having so many feels and this post is enormous and and and #i'm a mess #weh #yes this is all massive fan service but i am a fan and i am here to be serviced #so thank you larian #i will probably have to write some drabbles or something about followup to this #either hec talking with jaheira or hec with karlach #or karlach with jaheira :O #oh man having ideas #but it's 1am so i should go to bed right now XD #jaheira #jaheira bg3 #bg3 jaheira #khalid

[baitpaintsbadly]

"Unleash the esoteric, experimental, and forbidden superweapons! ...What do you mean they're all just plasma guns with a different coat on?!?" Some equipment and bodies to bring me up to 2 decked out squads of Rangers and Vanguards each. Made me realise how much I need to fix some of the old ones, the Omnissiah tests me so...

#admech #model do a spin

[earthstellar]

Concept: IDW 1 D&D AU

Ratchet is a Cleric as the strongest among his healing class, but he struggles with the more esoteric nature of what he does, and often struggles to utilise more prayer-based healing methods

Pharma is the leading Cleric at his temple as a result of Ratchet's struggles, as Pharma is considered a devout practitioner with strengths in ALL aspects of healing

Drift is a Paladin who used to be a Rogue/Ranger/something along those lines, and they meet at Ratchet's healing temple when Drift goes on a spiritual pilgrimage and Ratchet is in the middle of a crisis of faith (in both his temple deity and his own skills; he worries if he can't fully spiritually connect, is he really a good healer?)

While Drift is visiting and participates in a reception of blessings ritual with other travellers and those undertaking pilgrimage, something goes awry, and the rest of the Clerics are possessed by some unknown evil-- Ratchet is spared, due to his connection to prayer being the weakest among the rest of the Clerics present, thus making it easier for him to break free of the ritual, and he pulls Drift out of it as well

It turns out Pharma was approached by another Paladin on a pilgrimage; It was Tarn, who threatened the reputation of their temple and manipulated Pharma into utilising a prayer from Tarn's deity to open the reception ritual, which ended up being an invocation of a dark entity rather than an actual prayer

Drift and Ratchet have to escape the temple-- Or, alternatively, they have to try to purify it, in an effort to spare the rest of the Clerics. (This would include Ambulon, First Aid, Hoist, etc.)

Ratchet, being connected to the deity of the temple by nature (even if it is a nature he doesn't fully accept at this point) is the best one to attempt purification, and Drift bolsters Ratchet's strength with his own powers of faith

With Drift's help, Ratchet is able to fully connect with the deity of the temple for the first time, and successfully clears the shadows of possession from the temple and its inhabitants/visitors/patients

Pharma is taken in by Paladin guards, while Tarn is nowhere to be found. Banished with the shadow entities, or simply escaped?

They want Ratchet to be the new leading Cleric while Pharma is held for investigation, but he declines as he is still shaken by having a purely spiritual experience that he can't quite integrate with his conceptualisation of faith or healing, so he leaves First Aid in charge before leaving with Drift to accompany him on the rest of his pilgrimage

IDK I feel like this could be interesting; Drift is secure in his faith here, while Ratchet can't reconcile the spiritual elements of his work with the physical, tangible elements of it.

Bonus: Since Drift and Ratchet are from different temples, they have different deities and different beliefs/spiritual abilities as a result.

A Paladin and a Cleric enter a small pub on the roadside, looking to rest after weathering a storm on their path. At the bar, there is a half-Giant who preaches to a crowd of Dwarves and half-Orcs, who raise up their steins and cheer...

#maccadam #maccadams #idw drift #idw ratchet #mtmte #mtmte au #idw 1 #transformers au #dnd au #idw pharma #idw first aid #dratchet

[seat-safety-switch]

Nowadays on the internet, telling lies to strangers has moved beyond "entertainment" and into the realm of a new religion. Do you fervently believe that you are the smartest person on the face of the planet? The best way to show it is to repeatedly try to tell people that dogs aren't real. A bunch of specious cretins will start repeating you, and then eventually convince them of its veracity themselves. Keep that going long enough, and folks will start committing acts of gang violence against dog shelters, looking for where the hologram control panel is.

As an inveterate liar, I have looked upon this state of affairs with some disdain. I have been lying for decades, and have gained virtually nothing for perpetuating even my most inventive and esoteric falsehoods. After some analysis and discussion with my cult-deprogrammer best friend, Stop-Believin' Steven, we decided that I was just not entertaining enough. So I got ahold of a Ford F-150, and started filming myself from the front seat of it for YouTube.

Here's the thing about the front seat of a Ford F-150: it lends an undiminished authenticity to everything you say. Even if what you say is a deranged screaming fit thrown from a teary-eyed crimson-red porcine face, you can't deny that that face belongs to a man of the people. And if anyone doesn't fall in line, you can repeat the whole ordeal in the drive-thru while threatening a fast food worker. You'll have thousands of followers in no time, and be afloat on millions of dollars of money that they didn't want you to have.

Of course, even the F-150 was a bit of a lie in my case. In my salt-using northern city, it's very hard to find a complete frame, or even a cab. I was actually sitting on the floor of my driveway, pretending to scream about the new world order brought upon us by Taiwanese lobster fishermen, the entire time. Lies on top of lies. That money, though, turns out to be very, very real. I went ahead and bought myself an old Ford Ranger, thinking that would take my powers of persuasion to the next level. That was where I went wrong, you see.

Folks want to believe that a dude with a $40-90k F-150 is Just Like Them, but if they see a low-margin work truck? Why, those seats are cloth. That's what my groundskeeper drives. How can you be a man of the people when you're so grindingly poor? After that, it all sort of fell apart. Sure, I still had hundreds of thousands of dollars, but I had lost my violent and ill-reasoned mob. What good is money even for, if you can't threaten the lives of sitting politicians over things that never existed? Some of them even drive Silverados.

[grjarchive]

Until the Night Turns (1988)

The second Strange Trails story brought the nascent series into even more esoteric territory. Until the Night Turns begins the Johnnie Redmayne trilogy - the core part of it, as it would be followed by a sequel and a prequel. All of this, of course, exists in a subjective reality tied through storytelling to the series' continual framing device.

At George's Place, a rough-and-tumble leather-jacketed biker gang called the World Enders hangs out in the corner most nights. One of those nights, talk turns to lost family, and burly greaser Dale Redmayne tells a story about his brother, Johnnie. "Dead?" asks the barkeep; "Ain't so simple as dead or alive," Dale says, and begins his tale.

In Dale's story, Johnnie trips into the desert with his girl. The text turns a little bit Kerouac, a little bit Hunter S. Thompson, a clear sign of some of George Ranger Johnson's influences during the Strange Trails period. The drinking and drugs start spinning Johnnie's head, and here things get weird. Apocalyptic visions intertwine with the carefree thrills of the night. And briefly, at the climax of the story, we meet him. Who? As of yet it's unclear, but a figure that would become one of the pivotal characters of the series makes his first appearance.

And the canyon tearing the earth apart was grooved and rutted, treaded, patterned with jagged crevasses from which was pouring forth the fire, and Johnnie knew, it would keep on until it was all only fire across all that the night blanketed, but who had laid that track? Because the track that touched the infernal abyss was the track of a rattler, an old motorbike with its gears hanging on by thread and will and a hundred years of oil-stick, and there HE was, astride the rattler, like a cowboy, like ol’ Huron himself, taming a wild bronco, riding through the night, riding like the night, the fire pouring from his skull and scorching off all that might have been flesh and skin to leave just the shining ash bone. He'd never stop riding, and he'd never stop leaving his track, the size of the Great Canyon but pouring out the fires, more and more fire until it burned all the stars out of the sky. That was what he was riding for, the World Ender, and he was riding before them now. "Don't look away, baby," Johnnie told her. "Don't close your eyes. See him, baby. Don't close your eyes."

Johnnie's fate is left ambiguous in Dale's story. As he said, it's not as simple as dead or alive. But then, in one of GRJ's trademark cliffhangers, stalwart Buck Vernon stands up from his poker game, throwing in his hand, the eights and aces of spades and clubs. Buck had just come through that self-same desert, he says, and he's got another story to tell that just might be of interest.

Keep following this blog for more insight into Johnson’s work through the years.

May you live until you die!

#george ranger johnson #grj #strange trails #until the night turns #johnnie redmayne #dale redmayne #buck vernon #pulp art #vintage pulp #pulp #pulp cover #jack kerouac #hunter s thompson #the world ender #lord huron #vintage paperbacks #paperback

[wisefoxluminary]

Paintings in the sky

By wisefoxluminary

A Will Byers centric story

Will hasn't always had a happy life, the memories of his disappearance and The Upside Down follow him everywhere like a ghost. He lives in fear of the trauma that plagues him everyday, scared that he will lose everyone he cares about. He tries so hard to get away from Hawkins, to start a life in California and to just forget. He is a sensitive and creative child, drawing his insecurities on to the page instead of blurting out his feelings. He misses Mike so dearly, dejected by his friend as he doesn't bother to send him letters anymore. Will struggles to accept the fact he has a crush on his best friend because he knows being gay is a crime. He is scared that if he tells the truth, his friends will push him away. He feels like an awful brother figure to El as he is too scared to stand up to her bullies as they are the constant reminder of the prejudice he faced in Hawkins. He feels like a mistake, trapped in a endless cycle of hopelessness as he feels alone and terrified all the time. He is terrified that the Demogorgen would take him again, that the Mind Flayer or Vecna could sense his dark secrets and use it against him. Will is scared and lost, and the only escape he has from this unforgiving world is fantasy.

Will has been seeing imaginary friends for as long as he can remember, they properly started when he was six years old. Ever since Lonnie began to make his life a living hell. He would be visited by the cleric or "Will the Wise" as he would like to call him. The Cleric would comfort him after receiving a beating, offering words of wisdom and hope that he wouldn't expect to receive from his friends or family. He was always there, to pull him out of a rough spot and to give him guidance when he needed it so desperately. The cleric had always been there when Will's life got tough and was the one light in the darkness that gave Will hope and inspiration in the most vulnerable of times. His condition worsened after he came back from the Upside Down, as the horrors he encountered had left a permanent scar and his imaginary friends began to grow. Most of them were personifications of the party, mirror images of his friends' D&D personas. The cleric was always the voice of reason in the group and someone who had always been there for Will. The paladin was the heart of the group, the one who inspired Will when it felt like his life was falling apart. Caring and protective and extremely loyal just like Mike. The bard reminded him of Dustin, always smart and full of courage. He used his esoteric knowledge and witty sense of humour to give him confidence and light. The Ranger is the most emotionally intelligent of the group, a thoughtful and cautious one who always placed Will's needs and wants first. He was protective and would always fight for him, just like Lucas. He was always accompanied by his trusty steed Taggert, a loyal pet who brought Will necessary comfort and safety. They had always been with Will every step of the way, helping him escape the horrors of the visions as he kept seeing the two worlds flickering in and out of existence. They gave him a resolve to fight back, they encouraged him to take on Bob's advice when he confronted the Mind Flayer that day on the field. They were at his bedside at Hawkins Lab, offering him tranquility as the darkness slowly began to take over. They helped him regain control when the Mind Flayer was possessing him, they inspired him to use morse code to help his friends. They stood their ground and fought against the possession wracking Will's mind, even if it was a battle they couldn't win. The cleric and his comradeship would never give up on Will, even if the monster had gotten him, they were always there.

Will couldn't help but cling on to the childhood that he left behind. His aspirations for D&D were taking hold and his imaginary friends were the only thing that he could hang on to. Will always hated the idea of romance, he didn't feel like he deserved to be loved the same way Mike loved El or Lucas loved Max, he was lost and afraid and the cleric and his party were here for him when he had no one to open up to. They even gave him encouragement to dance with that girl in the snowball, even when his heart was telling him no. He loved Mike Wheeler and he was the beating heart that always kept him going, even if he pushed him away sometimes. Will let all of his anger and emptiness take control as he destroyed Castle Byers, casting away his childhood. A part of him died that day as the cleric and his imaginary friends disappeared. Their end represented the end of innocence for Will as he felt like he had more control of his life.

But Will couldn't get them out of his head, no matter how much he mourned or tried to forget them, their memories were forever with him. The party didn't look human to Will whenever he saw them, they looked like drawings that had came to life, like they had just stepped out of a watercolour painting. So he painted them in honour of their memory, portraying them as legendary heroes as they fought against a fearsome dragon, a representation of all the fear and insecurities Will had been battling with and the obstacles his invisible friends had faced to save him. The paladin was using his heart to keep all of the party together, using his sword as a beacon of hope to his fellow fighters. Without heart, they would fall apart. Without Mike Wheeler, Will Byers would fall apart. So he set out to gift this painting to Mike as a way of reminding him of the person he really was within and gave him the courage to fight for El. It hurt him to tell Mike about how El didn't feel like a mistake because of him, because those were his feelings, that was how he felt about Mike. He cried shameful tears at the thought of getting rejected, because he knew Mike belonged with El more than he did with him. He found himself falling back into that dark hole of wallowing insecurity as the fear was too hard to bear. He found acceptance in Jonathan as his brother would always be here for him. That no matter what happens between them, their family will always remain strong. The Byers family was his fortress and they would protect him to the ends of the earth.

Returning to Hawkins brought Will back to where everything started, where the darkness inside him was first born as Vecna had succeeded. He had opened the four gates and the end of the world was coming fast like never before. He made Mike promise to him that he would finish Vecna once and for all, to end this curse he had been fighting all his life. Every itch in his neck was bringing him closer to becoming Vecna's next victim to become poked and prodded. He couldn't take it anymore. He let his fear get the best of him and he ran and hid away from the rest of Hawkins. He had found sanctuary in his old house, a place that had since been abandoned by its new owners due to the current state in Hawkins. Lost and alone, his imaginary friends came to visit him once again as the cleric and the party had came back from the dead to offer Will support and courage in such uncertain times. They helped him relive his disappearance in The Upside Down and his painful connection to Vecna as he was slowly beginning to overcome his childhood trauma. He was becoming resistant to Vecna’s harm as the cleric, the paladin, the bard and the ranger gave him the confidence he needed to face him one last time. So with a new determination, he returned to his friends and family with open arms as he helped them in the final battle against Vecna. He fought against Henry and watched as he perished at the hands of El and his friends. He was able to deliver the killing blow and it brought him nothing but satisfaction. They may have been so alike, but it was Will's love that overcame Vecna’s hate in the end. With Vecna dead, Will was able to come to terms with his feelings and comes out to Mike as his friend repriocates his feelings. Will was able to gain confidence and start a relationship with Mike as he couldn't believe his luck. All he knew was that his imaginary friends gave him the confidence to come out to Mike and to accept his sexuality as a part of him to fully embrace. He held Mike's hand into a safe future, watching with tears in his eyes as the cleric and his party waved their last goodbyes. Will was in a better place because of them as they would only go away when Will accepted his trauma as a part of him. Will now has a more hopeful future to look forward to because of the party. From this day forth, Will would never forget the friends that gave him hope in a time of darkness and uncertainty. They would always be a part of him.

#will byers #byler #byler fic #mike wheeler #stranger things #stranger things season 5 speculation #will byers has imaginery friends #character study #imaginary friend #hurt/comfort #one shot #fanfic #written on tumblr

[archduke-enver-gortash]

You asked for durge and tavs, and I’m … going to send these in parts because tumblr already ate my first ask.

First is The Dark Urge, a changeling with a dark charisma and a deep love for the kill. The Urge largely poses as a hornless tiefling male, but might appear as an ambiguously gendered elf, a human woman, etc all of whom take on different aspects of the art of murder and all of whom are inevitably and all consuming my tied back to The Dark Urge. Genderweird, fucked in the head, passionate and intelligent and brutal while also saying things like, "please, my father's domain is the dark and the light and all skies in which a dagger may rend flesh. Darkness is so limiting in that regard. Refer to me simple as The Urge. Mhm- yes, capitalized."

Appears chaotic in order to hide his calculating nature, weaving schemes and dodging Sarevok's constant machinations while steering the Bhaalists into an era in they become ‘true hunters, not scavengers in the bleak midwinter hoping to nip at the weakest heel available’.

He's an urban ranger with that delicious gloomstalker/ rogue build. Hit, hit again, and hit hard.

Despite his love of the kill he's always had a very small sliver of a desire for rebellion, and is known to have extremely eccentric and mildly esoteric views on life, death, and murder. Hence why Sarevok hates his guts, lol.

Was born primarily to produce more Bhaalspawn - his 'destiny' as the last one alive is pure propaganda he does not argue with because he has no choice, no reason, and little motive to not throw himself into the arms of death in Toril's last death throe. He hopes father chokes when he swallows his last morsel of flesh. Also, the journey will at least be fun. Ultimately, he is simple a mirror, a doll with no heart. Until the lobotomy.

He scares Gortash to death. He makes Gortash laugh. They're roughly the same age and born within the same week. They are good friends who simultaneously understand one another uniquely and have put each other through hell because they don't understand relationships. They always forgive, which is a rare boon for both to offer up.

He loves and attempts many a time to mentor Orin until her first betrayal, which is different than the second, and forgiven despite various people telling him not to overlook the slight. He does not understand why she wastes herself in dungeons and sewers. He may or may not have tried to get both Enver and Orin to 'see sense' run for the hills and may or may not have been viciously and divinely punished for it. He and Kethric cannot stand each other despite the veneer of consummate professionalism that The Urge quickly rips away and proceeds to make that man's life a living hell after one too many little comments about ‘fatherhood’.

Both he and Kethric see each other as terrible parents and unrepentant monsters in different flavors. He has one living child, who is virtually the default dark urge and is his 'heir apparent’.

YES I LOVE HIM. such a neat concept. we need more genderweird durges tbh. keep the asks coming i love slurping up oc lore like a sponge

#todderwodders

[auntphibian]

Playing a Bard Tips!

not Scanlan but want to play a really good bard? read ahead!

so I LOVE and I mean LOVE playing bards. Bard and Paladin are my fav classes to play, but honestly I would say I’m best at bard. literally every DM I’ve played a bard under has complimented and given me special items because of how I play and I think I can give some handy tips. 

tip 1: use rhymes and this cite specifically https://www.rhymezone.com/ 

when giving bardic inspiration I always (except a few times) have a rhyme to go with it. saying “I play my lute” is fine but making little rhymes really pulls other players in. it’s also way easier than trying to write an entire song like Scanlan does, plus I can’t sing and it doesn’t take up as much time. 

tips for rhymes, find words you associate with each PC. 

look up rhymes for fighter, ranger, cleric ect. and try to make it fit. for example “he’s rather esoteric, our cleric, far from generic, and never barbaric, he’s calm even when I’m hysteric”. all of those come up when you look up Cleric. it’s a short inspiration that can fit most clerics but will make the one you’re inspiring feel good.

rhyme with names. names especially make other PCs feel good because it’s generally unique to the character. however names are hard because rarely will names fit perfectly in a rhyme, so just grab the last part. like if their name is “Zaram” you won’t find a rhyme, but you will if you look up “ram”. of if their name is something like “Garcar” pronounce it out loud and find a word that sounds like the last part. “car” is pronounced like “sar” which sounds like “Czar”, now you have a rhyme. “my friend Garcar, is a little bizarre, but careful if you Spar, because he’s a rock star”.

situations are great too. This could be based on the mission or recent RP. if you’re fighting vampires look for vampire rhymes, if you’re fighting goblins look for goblin rhymes. An RP example, in my current bard, Meku’s, game the barbarian said something like “I longingly look at the hammer” so my rhyme was “making quite the clamour, I don’t mean to yammer, but you seem enamored, you really want that hammer!”. It adds to the RP they already started and makes them feel heard. 

Tip 2: tell Jokes

I always play horny bard characters so my jokes are usually dirty jokes, but this doesn’t just apply to that. Really lots of situations call for jokes, or you can just make it a character trait they always tell jokes. This really brings RP out of people. Similar to before, look up jokes based around class, RP, or situation. A PC likes jewelry, look up jewelry jokes. Dumb blonde jokes can become dumb barbarian jokes. Fighting vampires, look up vampire jokes. Call out who you want to RP with like “my PC scoots closer to other PC and nudges them saying ‘There’s a bunch of food set out, we must be in the vampire’s casketeria!’” this will ALWAYS get a response. A groan, a “they roll their eyes”, a “they laugh”, or anything else. Now you have a dynamic set up with that other PC. 

This can happen during combat too. Spells that involve talking, like silvery bards, vicious mockery, or really any, can just have you making a joke as your spell casting. For example I like the Spirit bard subclass, in it you have different tales on a chart. So I looked up jokes based around those charts. One was “clever animal” so my joke was “people say dolphins are as smart as humans but I think they’re jumping to conclusions”. This led to the party talking about what a dolphin is and how smart they might be. It was fun, simple, and relaxed RP that made the party feel closer. 

Now jokes are hard, I suggest just stealing off the internet. You don’t have to be crazy creative with it or anything, if anything stupid jokes are more fun. However, you will have duds. There will be times where your jokes aren’t recognized and you will feel crummy. Just move on and don’t let it get you down. 

Tip 3: give gifts!

I can’t express this enough. Non-mechanical gifts do WONDERS for RP. Most of my bards make friendship bracelets for the party and this always goes down amazingly. A special card or pressed flowers, or a trinket made into a necklace, all things that will really just make the other PCs feel special. I’ve had campaigns end where the PC describes being buried with their friendship bracelet. 

Also, make a big deal of it if someone gives your PC a gift. Talk about them putting it on the desk in their room, or a special pocket. Say “thank you” in whatever way feels character appropriate. If it’s a big deal to your character say they tear up, if it’s small slap their shoulder, that sort of thing. 

I’ve never had a DM charge my PC more that a silver for these sort of gifts because they recognize that it’s good for building party cohesion. 

Tip 4: fashion

Give your bard a style. This could be a cowboy, or Gucci, or like a fool, or in Meku's case, like a spirit Halloween store. It makes them stand out as an individual but also gives other PCs something easy to work with. You make a bad joke and they say “oh quiet cowboy”. 

Speaking of cowboys, make your character wear a hat of some sort. There is so much description you can do with a hat alone. Someone casts gust, “my character holds their hat in place”. Under the frightened effect “she hides her face in her hat”. It’s also a easy target for other PCs. a rival PC might teasingly knock it off their head, one might ask to wear it, other might brush it off for you. It’s a very stylistic item that doesn’t have to be tracked or anything so it makes just randomly bringing it up easy. I’ve had other PCs start wearing the same style of hat as my PC. 

Ask other PCs to help with style. If someone mentions their character’s hair cut, say “oh my god it’s beautiful, could you style my hair”. Y’all, a hairstyle is the strongest of RP bonding things. I guess because it’s almost always visual so all PCs have thought about it. From “let me braid your hair” to “can you cut my hair” or “what products are you using” it’s amazing. It can really apply to any aspect of style but hair is just a insanely easy and simple way to build a bond between PCs. 

Lastly, have a key color. This is super important in my opinion. Give your bard a favorite color and use it OFTEN. Meku’s favorite color is purple. All her magic is described as purple, all her clothes are purple, if she’s buying an item she asks for purple, ect. It’s again super easy but a huge way to make your bard stand out within the party and seem extra charismatic. 

Tip 5: describe EVERYTHING

You don’t need to write a novel's long description or anything but every little description makes you seem more charismatic. When Meku casts dimension door I say “you see a sparkly purple door open up as she uses dimension door.” polymorph, her animals are always described as purple and sparkly. Last session had a good one, she used heat metal then fire bolt I described it as “she glares at the man, blows into her cupped hand like she’s blowing on a ember. Then removes a hand and flicks her middle finger up with a fire bolt going into his face”. It’s not super long but adds a lot of character to the bard and adds visually to a fight. It also got a few laughs because it killed the guy. 

I recommend giving your character an element or material as a theme. I’d clear it with the DM that you aren’t changing damage type, just taking creative liberty with description. If your bard is water themed, describe things like cure wounds as “a faint mist sprinkles over you and you heal for__”. Eldritch blast could be flicking water droplets off your hand. Heat metal could be boiling water, haste could be tossing them a drink. These small things really just add a lot. 

Feel open to act a fool. I’m sure a stern bard can be fun but I have the most fun playing the class clown style bard. You fail a dex check at catching something, say “I got it!! Uh.. oops” or “she puts her hat up like a shield and gets knocked on her ass”, “eats dirt” is another good description. It makes your character seem endearing and makes you seem really good at handling failure. In a weird way it makes your character cooler. A stern fighter who is gruff and strong getting knocked prone will seem embarrassing because the character is supposed to be cool and competent. A silly bard getting knocked over then making a joke as they jump back up makes it seem like nothing can affect your character. Everyone will fail at some point so being foolish with the failure just makes the character seem more charismatic. 

Tip 6: have a journal or doc 

I always make journals for my bard and bring it with me. In my spare time I’ll write down jokes or rhymes or descriptions of spells. I divide the journal up, spell descriptions in one part, jokes in another, and inspiration rhymes in another. Divide inspiration rhymes up by PC and have a general section as well. Cross out or add a checkmark when you use the joke or rhyme so you can keep track of what you’ve used already. For spell descriptions just add a brief description and have it handy for when you cast. “Mending looks like bright red thread weaving through the material and magically joining it together” then when you use it say “you see red magical thread sew the two parts of the page back together”. I forget to describe spells a lot so having the page open helps you make it fit the situation. 

Inspirations are especially important to write down. I have been playing bards consistently for the past 5 or so years on a weekly basis, but even I have a hard time coming up with a rhyme in the time it takes to get to my turn. Have back ups written down. Sometimes you’ll just need to be honest and say “I don’t have a rhyme right now, but inspiration to pc”. However you look like the best player in the world if it’s consistent. It’s not a ton of extra work but it seems like it in the moment to everyone else. And they do appreciate it. I get DM inspiration frequently because my DMs really do enjoy my silly 4-6 line rhymes. I do keep rhyme zone pulled up with my dnd beyond so I can make a spur of the moment rhyme, but most of my rhymes were thought about at work, or school, or while driving, or wherever.

#DnD stuff #dnd campaign #dnd character #dnd #bard #bards #tips for playing bards #bardic tips #bardic inspiration #high charisma #high charisma characters #dnd bards #bard tips #playing a bard #bard players #bard player #scanlan #scanlan shorthalt #dm #dm tips #dm inspiration #role play #dnd role play #role playing tips #tips for roleplay

[preservationofnormalcy]

How do I take my unicorn to the farrier? I accidentally inherited her and her hooves are really overgrown. Do I take her to a regular farrier or something special??

Oh, great question. At least in my experience, there’s an extranormal equine ranch in central Virginia called Skyline Ranch that comes highly recommended, but not everyone can go that far for something like that. So, two solutions.

One, if you live in an area with a larger extranormal community, you can ask around for farriers at farmers markets and such. Ask your local witch, in fact, if you know that they’re the real deal. All love to my wizard friends but they tend to have their heads in the clouds - witches are a lot more “ear to the ground”, it’s part of their job to know the community.

Two, if that fails, the Esoteric Rangers do offer equine health services, but there’s not many personnel on that beat and there’s a waiting list. We had a centaur once wait for two weeks because the only available Rangers in her area were fae and, you know, horseshoes.

#office for the preservation of normalcy #ask #advice #witches #esoteric rangers #fae

[pretttydemonwrites]

19, 21, 22, 23, & 28 for all your tabletop-originated characters (or at least your faves)!

OUGH. That's hard because actually I don't have that many characters that originated as tabletop characters! I think it'll be Racquel and Charlie for this set!

19. sleeping position?

Racquel - full starfish, absolutely just spread out across whatever surface zir sleeping on. a real nightmare to share a bed with to be honest, cuz what inevitably happens is zir just fulling laying on top of the other person. Charlie - instinctively curls up because he is always cold, and also runs into that issue of "blanket/bed is too fuckin short for him long legs" and he needs to be completely covered from the neck down in order to sleep 21. obsession from childhood? Racquel - this might feel a bit sad but like, having a family? not like, having kids (thought ze does end up with at least one pseudo adopted child) but just having those kind of connections? growing up not really knowing your parents at all will kinda mess your shit up so ze has spent on a long time trying to find people to care about and for those people to care about zem in turn.

on a less serious note: archery

Charlie - he has always been really into sunflowers??? hey idk where this came from, this just popped into my head unbidden. but he loves the way they follow the sunshine, and he loves how tall they get, how sturdy they are, how BIG, and he loves sunflower seeds (he hates eating them around people though because having to spit out the shells is so embarrassing)

More below the cut!

22. role model?

Racquel - ze was raised by an elf named Silas, who took Racquel in and taught zem pretty much...everything? closest thing to a father figure ze had and he kind of maintained a sort of distance between them for reasons Racquel never really understood, but it didn't stop Racquel from being in awe of his skills. he was a powerful cleric but his experience in adventuring and travel meant that he was able to teach them survival skills, which lead to zem becoming more of a ranger. cool guy, shame he got murdered.

Charlie - probably his older sister Aine (awn-yah)! he's the second oldest of his four siblings, and Aine and him are just under two years apart, so they're pretty close. she was the one who helped him channel his magic into his natural stimming and came up with the idea of adding the rings to then help focus that magic a bit more. things still go haywire a bit, but Aine's patience helped him have confidence in himself so he messes up a lot less than he used to and he's very grateful to her for that.

23. strange habits?

Racquel - man, the only things I can think of right now are zir tendency to steal baked goods (happened frequently when zir party was posted up in a literal palace) and zir habit of basically only wearing half zir shirt, but that's because one side of zir torso being covered in scar tissue gives zem a lot of sensory issues so ze hates having anything touching it too much.

Charlie - well, other than various stimmy things I think Charlie is just a nervous babbler. he can say so many words without actually saying anything at all because he is so nervous all the time!

28. five songs to describe them

God we were cruising right along until I got to this one. i sUCK at picking songs for my OCs, so I will try and come back to this one later I think general vibes for Racquel is Arctic Monkeys meets indie queer artists talking about gender in increasingly esoteric ways. For Charlie, take like, indie girl with an acoustic guitar and then sprinkle in a dash or two of like Irish folk music. ...Yeah.

#oc asks #ask meme #ragsy #sorry this took so long!!!

[brokehorrorfan]

American Ninja and American Ninja 2: The Confrontation will be released on Blu-ray on October 31 via Kino Lorber. Produced by Cannon Films, the martial arts films star Michael Dudikoff.

1985's American Ninja is directed by Sam Firstenberg (Ninja III: The Domination) and written by Paul De Mielche. Guich Knock, Judie Aronson, Steve James, John Fujioka, and Tadashi Yamashita co-star.

1987's American Ninja 2: The Confrontation is directed by Sam Firstenberg and written by Gary Conway (Over the Top) and James Booth. Steve James, Jeff Weston, Gary Conway, Michelle Botes, and Larry Poindexter co-star.

Special features for both titles are listed below.

American Ninja special features:

Audio commentary by director Sam Firstenberg and stunt coordinator Steven Lambert

Audio commentary by director Sam Firstenberg, moderated by filmmaker Elijah Drenner

A Rumble in the Jungle: The Making of American Ninja

Theatrical trailer

Stationed in the Philippines, 18-year-old U.S. Army private Joe Armstrong (Michael Dudikoff) is escorting a supply convoy when it is ambushed by rebels—one of whom he recognizes as a Black Ninja warrior. Instinctively, Joe defends himself using the esoteric martial art of Ninjitsu—an ability that puts him under suspicion by his commander and fellow soldiers. Alone in his fight against corruption, the boy finally discovers the secret of his mysterious past—a secret that pits him against the evil Black Star Ninja (Tadashi Yamashita) in the ultimate martial arts battle.

Pre-order American Ninja.

American Ninja 2 special features:

Audio commentary by director Sam Firstenberg and stunt coordinator BJ Davies

Audio commentary by director Sam Firstenberg, moderated by filmmaker Elijah Drenner

An American Ninja in Cape Town: The Making of American Ninja 2

Theatrical trailer

When U.S. Army Rangers Joe Armstrong (Michael Dudikoff) and Curtis Jackson (Steve James) go on a Caribbean mission for missing Marines, they find themselves matching their deadly Ninjitsu skills against the elite Ninja forces of The Lion (Gary Conway)—a psychotic drug lord who genetically alters his fighters into superhuman martial arts killers! Learning that four kidnapped Marines are about to undergo The Lion’s inhuman transformation, the Rangers infiltrate his island fortress—and launch into an explosive battle against a horde of mutant Ninja warrior-clones!

Pre-order American Ninja 2: The Confrontation.

#american ninja #american ninja 2 #michael dudikoff #steve james #cannon films #kino lorber #dvd #gift #80s movies #1980s movies #martial arts #martial arts movies #sam firstenberg #judie aronson #80s action movies

[consumeanddevour-rpg]

in the world, there’s other dimensions which are loosely connected to the world at certain points (“thresholds”) and as such, magic (“the esoteric arts”) leaks through a little bit. some people are capable of it from birth, an innate skill for it, or forge their way into it. “the seven aspects” are both a term used to refer to the seven things people can do(1).and the group itself(2). The Aspects themselves are (in order of number) precognition/divination, psychometry, mediumship/evocation, persuasion/slight mind control, blood manipulation, bone manipulation, and flesh manipulation. divided primarily into two categories (1-4 being “the mind” and 5-7 being “the body”) they are considered the fundamental aspects that make up a human and if one was capable of bringing the dead back (which is forbidden!!!) they would need to invoke all seven of the aspects. 

(1) The Seven Laws’, ‘The Seven Acts’ (2) ‘The Aspects’

otherworldly dimensions are perceived through the lens of dante’s inferno, with the nine dimensions being referred to as “the inferno”. from one to nine, they are: mortalis (our world, also called limbo), the grail (where the noise echoes), the labyrinth (something neverending), kokytos (where the air is heavy and the river isn’t water), the dark (there is no light powerful enough to see here), the spiral (i am stronger then others, i will complete this journey), the wilds (to ripe and rot and ruin), the decimation (the ground is slick with… something), and the end (an infinite white sky with black sand, the physical feeling of death).

there’s things there. half dead gods who’s magic is decaying and being fed off, immortal beings cast into the shadows, frayed edges of reality that are ripping, failed creations thrown to be forgotten hopefully.

as an organization, the seven aspects function to explore the inferno and what is beyond it (achieve immortality? gain more power? who knows but the rich are getting richer). members of the secret society divide themselves into scholars and rangers, the former dedicated to study and the latter to discovery. 

members are given callsigns (secret society after all) from the binomial names of fauna and then initials for shortname taken from the second and third letters of the binomial name. love me a bug. callsigns are chosen by someone high up in the first aspect who’s like hmmm i am perceiving u as a bug<3 i’d be soo pissed if i got soome shit animal fucking imagine being a seagull. Anyways. u did well reading through all this infodumping for da lore<3

okay, okay. lets go. you are capable of ONE and ONLY one. members of the aspects are all able to perform one thing (which while some are more gifted than others, train and work hard and you’ll get better). but capitalism core i want what i cannot have, i want it all, i want to be all powerful, i want to raise the dead etc

the first aspect, the aspect of sight: is the first and oldest ability of precognition/divination. able to be done through force (scrying, anthropomancy, tea leaves, etc) or naturally through dreaming/visions.

the second aspect, the aspect of touch:  psychometry, done through touching objects (never living beings) and reading its past.

the third aspect, the aspect of hearing: one of the most well known practices (and scams) in history, speaking with the dead. not raising them, users of the third aspects can communicate with the dead and temporarily tether them to this world, and perceive ghosts and spectres (iconic historical figure who had this (to me) was the fifth wife of henry the 8th who was HAUNTED by his two dead wives until she became one)

the fourth aspect, the aspect of the voice: beloved by politicians and powerful figures,

the fifth aspect, the aspect of blood: between healing wounds in combination with bone and flesh, blood is primarily used to create wards and bindings. 

the sixth aspect, the aspect of bone: sentinel guardians of their aspect, they can manipulate and alter bone. the most common things done are combined healing with the other two aspects of the body, creating impenetrable doors and locks, and making their bones stronger.

the seventh aspect, the aspect of flesh: focused on the meat and muscle of the body, the seventh aspect can both heal and harm through the organs and skin– to a limit (things such as cancer or long term disease cannot be cured, broken bones cannot be healed). originally founded as an Official aspect by otto desramault (wow i wonder if this will be relevant later?) in 1856, it is the youngest aspect to be discovered.

[askpinkietai]

if you were a super villain, what would be your aesthetic and methods be?

Now that's an interesting thought... I grew up on shows like the 1994 Spider-Man and Power Rangers (as well as more... esoteric heroes like Freakazoid and The Tick), so my fantasies growing up were always about heroes. Always wanted to be a superhero so I could save a lot of people~

Really, I think it depends on the powerset. Give me, like, electricity powers, and I'd want to find a way to use it to provide cheap energy for people. But something like telekinesis... I'd either want to keep that secret and use it to mess with folks, or just be lazy with it. Y'know, why walk ten feet to pick up a book or can of soda when you can just gesture and pull it into your hand~? Always plainclothes, though. Coz, like, why not be comfortable (not to mention practical) in your superheroing or villaining? And I assure you, nobody wants to see me in spandex~

In all honesty, I'm not the self-actualising type, though. I'm much more likely to be a minion for an established villain than strike out on my own~

#about me #superhero stuff

[grjarchive]

Love Like Ghosts (1987)

A new era begins!

It's obvious that George Ranger Johnson had plans for something in the vein of his Strange Trails series early in his career. The end of Lonesome Dreams was an opportunity to explore broader and more esoteric ideas than could fit into even the strangest westerns, and the frequency with which these new stories began to be published was clear evidence of a great backlog of ideas let loose.

The series would spiral around a framing device, a bar called "George's Place," an obvious fictionalization of the Broken Bottle tavern that Johnson managed, an out-of-the-way place in the desert outside the town of ██████████. Johnson's characters would often be inspired by the customers and performers at the Broken Bottle, but on the other side of the page, at George's Place, they came bearing tales worthy of pulp novels - westerns, or something like contemporary westerns, in some cases, but also ghost stories, paranormal horror, romantic tragedies, even brief forays into trendy science fiction.

The very first Strange Trails story would also be the first in the loose Frankie Lou trilogy. A recurring character in Johnson's œuvre, Frankie Lou was a fictionalization of his friend Francine Lu, a Cambodian-American lounge singer who performed on occasion at the Bottle. Of course, this meant that Frankie was a regular at George's.

One of the few known photos of Francine Lu, who would inspire GRJ's Frankie Lou trilogy. Unfortunately, like so many visions of old friends this photo is warped by time's blur.

In Love Like Ghosts, Frankie arrives to the bar and narrates a tale to washed-up country star Buck Vernon, the closest thing that Stranger Trails has to an overarching protagonist. Frankie spins a heart-wrenching tragic romance that evolves into a chilling ghost story.

To say more would be to spoil the story, which as always I encourage you to track down yourself, in the dusty back rooms of used bookstores in the bad part of town, or in "to donate" boxes in eccentric late relatives' attics. To those who may be wondering, I get my own copies from ███████ ██████████. But suffice to say, Frankie, and by dint Johnson, weaves in everything from La Rochefoucauld references to hints of Cambodian history. And then there's that crucial bit in chapter 14...

I heard then a song pass over the graves, echoing from somewhere deep in the gnarled woods beyond. As this song on the breeze passed over each and every stone, each and every one now as monumental as the pillars of Gibraltar, beyond which Ulysses sailed into the underworld, they carried the names of the dead. Lovers and friends long lost, the wind carried their names to me. One grave said only "Huron." The wind came and it carried this name to me too, gentle, "Huron, Huron..."

Strange trails will unwind as we continue, and they will take us who knows where.

Keep following this blog for more insight into Johnson’s work through the years.

May you live until you die!

#george ranger johnson #grj #strange trails #love like ghosts #frankie lou #francine lu #buck vernon #pulp art #pulp cover #vintage pulp #pulp #vintage paperbacks #paperback #ghost #romance #lord huron