Had another lovely wedding in the colony! Today Irwin and Connie got married, it was beautiful. Irwin will still be called Irwin even though his name is now "Maxim Dermokaites" and not "Maxim Irwin" anymore. He did not wear a hat to his wedding, much to his new wife's chagrin, I'm sure.
Also, a round of applause for Candlelight and Albina, who brought iced coffee to the ceremony. I feel like they could have been paying more attention, but I appreciate their refusal to be pulled away from their refreshments by something as inconsequential as a wedding.
And a round of applause to me for not drawing Candlelight and Candlelight alone since she joined because she is my only T'au colonist, and I love her almost as much as I love the idea of actually getting around to painting my real-life T'au someday. Plus, she reminds me of another T'au Rimworld colonist from ages past who is the reason I got into Warhammer at all in the first place.
R.I.P Voxpopper, your legacy shall not be forgotten.
Speaking of T'au, I wasted a LOT of plasteel to make Candlelight a cool gun. She deserves to wield a weapon of her people. Props to Fafo for making it a masterwork. Love you too, Fafo.
Had a huge malaria outbreak, which took out three of my five competent doctors (Kaz, Debby, Wookshys), but thankfully Albina has the 'Word of Immunity' psycast from Vanilla Psycasts Expanded unlocked, and we dealt with the whole mess pretty quickly. Having an awesome hospital probably helped, too.
More soap-opera levels of relationship drama going on in this colony. I was too bewildered to even draw this nonsense. Maybe another day.
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something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.
“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”
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Heart of Stone
You wake.
Stars still twinkle overhead, and the crickets chirping around you promise several more hours before dawn. Soft breaths and the occasional snore from your various companions puts you at ease. No excitement for tonight.
Heard even over the sounds of the nightly insects is the grating rhythm of stone against grit. Dalamus works at his tent, grinding a piece of agate into a cabochon. Unlike the others, Dalamus had set up his tent far from the center, presumably to have a full view of the camp, either out of protectiveness or distrust. You presume the latter. He never left the tent for long, not even to sleep. Do Drow sleep?
Astarion is awake, as well, yet remains at his own tent, implying that nocturnal camaraderie is not the reason for his and Dalamus' overlapping watch. Why, then, waste sleeping hours? A generous onlooker might interpret their tandem watchfulness as an overabundance of caution, having backup should a problem arise. The occasional annoyed glance from Astarion in Dalamus' direction pushes the thought from your mind.
Sounds of grinding stone and crunching sand stop as Dalamus inspects his gem for scratches and inclusions. He takes a moment to observe his surroundings, red eyes scanning the campsite and beyond for any signs of disturbance. For your protection? Or his own? You cannot say for certain. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment your pulse quickens, filling with apprehension from a source unknown and unwanted. Unfortunately, you cannot say it is wholly unwarranted, either.
Dalamus' gaze leaves your face and he returns to his task, allowing you the chance to breathe. If any would-be attackers felt half of the apprehension you had in the gaze of your supposed companion, none would dare approach. Dalamus cleans his work station with some water and lays out the next level of grit, wets the agate, and begins grinding once more.
There is a groan of exasperation from Astarion, followed by him complaining about the grating noise. Dalamus is unfazed and, decidedly unwilling to give the High Elf the courtesy of eye contact, responds lowly in Drowic. "Dosst ssivah jaaele mzildur."
Astarion makes a scandalized huff. Whether he understands Drowic or simply assumes insult, you do not know. Either way, he settles back into his tent with a sour expression, arms crossed, and you cannot help the amusement that tugs at the corners of your mouth.
You roll onto your back and stare up at the stars again, closing your eyes. It takes a moment for Dalamus' red eyes to fade from your memory, but you force yourself to relax. You should be safe at least for tonight.
Chips Away
You wake.
Clouds obscure the stars, but the moon's glowing silhouette directly overhead assures you there is still plenty of time to sleep. Most of your companions doze quietly around you. One person turns from their back onto their side, but does not wake. It is peaceful.
The steady rhythm of stone against stone tells you Dalamus is polishing yet again tonight. Something green, judging by the flashes in the torchlight. His tent remains far from the center where everyone else has gathered, but you suspect it is to prevent disturbing the others' sleep. Perhaps.
Except for Astarion, also awake, reading a book at his tent. Or trying. It seems he and Dalamus are both night owls, and refuse to give up their nocturnal quiet time to the other. You suppose, in the end, two pairs of eyes are better than one for keeping watch in the dark.
Sudden silence, as Dalamus picks up his stone and cleans it of grit to determine his progress. He peers up from his work to survey the grounds, making sure his focus on his hobby does not blind him to dangers. His eyes come to rest on your face, and he tilts his head slightly, perhaps wondering why you are awake. If only you had an answer for him. Instead, you smile.
Dalamus' pointed ears prick upwards ever so slightly, but he looks away, unsure how to respond. His attention returns to the stone in front of him, but not before you catch him glancing furtively in your direction once. And then again. He scrubs the grit from his stone with a small brush and some water, resetting his work station to begin the next stage of polishing. It might be a trick of the light, but you could swear his shoulders are not as stiff as before.
Astarion pushes himself to his feet and asks how much longer the accursed screeching will last. Dalamus regards him with a mild scowl, but answers. "An hour at most. You will survive."
The High Elf drags a hand down his face and begins walking off, mumbling about getting something to eat. Now that he mentions it, hunger is beginning to gnaw at your stomach, as well. But the call of sleep is stronger.
You wriggle yourself into a comfortable position on your side and close your eyes, trying to imagine what shape the stone will take when Dalamus is done. The sound of stone polishing is far from melodic, yet it is familiar, and therefore comforting. It means he is awake, and watching. And you feel safe.
To Reveal Gold
You wake.
The stars are bright in the sky, and the moon full enough to light the camp without the need for fire. Grasses sway and trees rustle in the cool midnight breeze. The only thing punctuating the relative silence is the soft snore of a companion opposite the snuffed campfire from you. It is too quiet.
You sit up and wipe the sleep from your eyes. Gone is the grinding noise which you had begun to find comfort in. Dalamus' tent is set up, and his stone polishing materials are out, but the Drow himself is nowhere to be seen. The only thing keeping you from fearing the worst is Astarion, awake and relaxed at his own tent.
The sound of faint crunching reaches your ears, of dirt and grass under boots, and you look over your shoulder to find Dalamus approaching. At his side is a small waterskin still dripping from immersion in the nearby river. He stops once he notices you, red eyes scanning your face. "Is something the matter?" he asks, possibly the first time you have heard him express explicit concern for another outside of injury in combat.
"I'm fine," you assure. "I'm so used to hearing you work, that when I awoke to silence I became worried. I didn't know where you had gone, is all."
Dalamus appears surprised at your concern. After all, there are plenty of others in camp. Astarion is awake to keep watch. He knows you are capable of defending yourself.
"I am here," he says finally, but confusion colors his tone, as if he has never considered his presence might be desirable. Not in a genuine sense, anyway. Useful, perhaps, with his darkvision and heightened hearing. But this is not that. He senses it. And he does not know what to do with it.
"I'm glad you're here. Goodnight, Dalamus."
His eyes widen and his pointed ears swivel away. Rather than say anything and risk revealing emotions he has no name for, Dalamus nods and begins towards his tent.
You lay down on your back and close your eyes, listening. He is at the final stage of polishing for tonight's stone; no more harsh grinding. But it is enough to know that he is there.
You hear a teasing comment from Astarion, followed by an exclamation of pain and a clatter from something small Dalamus has thrown at him. You smile. You are safe.
......
You wake.
It is the early hours of dawn. The moon and stars have almost disappeared entirely, but the sun is not yet risen and neither have your companions. The birds are beginning their calls as the air begins to warm.
A glint of light catches your eye and you turn your head to find a brilliantly polished opal cabochon beside your bedroll. A gift. Even more astounding, Dalamus sleeps facing you but a few feet away. You have never seen him sleep until now. Sleep meant vulnerability, and Dalamus trusts almost no one.
Except you.
You dare not touch him for fear of breaking this trust. Perhaps when he wakes he will distance himself again. But for now, he is here, and he is safe.
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