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hazeldragonblossoms · 8 months

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okay. memory dump. i’m gonna try to stick with the drakes for this one, but there’s gonna be some pre-game and stuff about me too, just for context.

by the time i started attending ravenwood, sylvia and malistaire had been married for years. they were well established and well loved. since there were three drake professors, we addressed them formally as their first initial, and more informally by first name. sylvia encouraged us to be informal with her, and it affected how people referred to malistaire and cyrus, too.

like i said, sylvia was my primary teacher. she was like a homeroom teacher, i guess — a class of life students of about new ten or so new kids each year, usually ranging from the ages of ten to their mid-late 20s, though sometimes exceptions were made for younger kids with nowhere else to go who got sponsored by the school, and there were a few outliers who got into magic later in life, too. primary schools were like family units, similar to the cabins in pjo, and sylvia was the theurgy kids’ mom.

i will note; the younger kids tended to spend a lot of time on/near campus, while the older students often went on adventures, bought castles, and eventually found jobs. although, the cutoff for “older students” varied significantly — it wasn’t uncommon to see ten year old novices getting patched up on the way back from firecat alley, but there were some students who never used offensive magic, and instead dedicated themselves to things like potionmaking, card crafting, and more practical applications. there was plenty of philosophy to be discussed in class at higher levels, and the professors were sneaking it into their curriculums from day one.

i wasn’t actually the “young wizard” of arc 1. that was morganthe. she was a lot older than me — i think by about ten years — and we never really talked before she was sent to find and stop malistaire. or after. but that’s a post for another day.

i did a lot of smaller tasks to support morganthe’s mission as she tracked malistaire down. i think i did a lot of the various street quests in wizard city — mostly the versions from before the world was reworked in the official release of the game. unicorn way, triton avenue, crab alley, firecat alley, and cyclops lane i know i went to, and i’m pretty damn sure i went to colossus boulevard, too.

i also went to grizzleheim! and i Did meet nick jonas. he was cool! we didn’t hang out often, but i always made sure to stop by to listen to whatever he was working on when i was passing through.

after arc 1 was over and done with, a memorial was built for sylvia and malistaire. i forget where, exactly — up by the tower from the tutorial…? regardless, it was nice. there was a bench with a sculpture of the two of them, a few tables with chairs, and a carefully-tended climbing vine behind the statue that had pink flowers. it was visited by students as a quiet study spot at first, then grew into a place to hang out, with a little garden to represent sylvia. i think people got more comfortable there as time passed — able to remember the good along with the bad — but at first, the only people who went there were a handful of theurgists and necromancers (including me), staff members (cyrus in particular), and morganthe.

some people never came around to it, saying malistaire didn’t deserve to be remembered. me and my friends didn’t let that shit fly.

ANYWAY, all that actually started out as a tangent! but sylvia always said that tangents were a sign of an active mind looking to make connections; nothing to be ashamed of. i’ve since reformatted the post, but i think this serves as a better intro for her.

man, now to describe sylvia drake? she was kind, and funny, and never afraid to get her hands dirty or to tell us to get weird. she was actually a lot like ms. frizzle, in some ways.

of course, she was a lot like demeter. very motherly, very gardeny.

but she also had a slightly unhinged side. she told us she’d ridden centaurs into battle, and her centaur buddies always backed her up, entirely seriously.

the vines and branches she could create could be an incredibly destructive force of nature, growing so fast around an enemy that she’d squeeze the life from them faster than a python, and much more brutally. she only demonstrated on inanimate objects (or, sometimes animated objects that just don’t feel pain, like if she needed to grab a wayward broom or an escaped accidentally-enchanted chair, which are both real examples), but still, it’s hard not to see a barrel get shattered and imagine what would’ve happened if that were your ribcage. because i’d bet my selena gomez statue and rockin’ outfit that the answer would’ve been Many Broken Ribs!

i think, thematically, it makes the most sense to talk about malistaire next.

“malistaire” was actually a portmanteau of the old avalonian names michael and alistair, and the meaning was something along the lines of a “defender/avenger” type of thing?

whatever. malistaire drake was, although very powerful, also very much a dork. i have immense respect for the man, but he was a damn sap. if professor sylvia drake was a theurgy student’s mom, professor malistaire drake was their well-meaning, if a bit distant stepfather who married their mother after they’d moved out.

luckily, i thought necromancy was cool as hell and made it my secondary school, so i collected both halves of the set as pseudo parents.

he did lose his arm at one point, similar to the outline provided in this post. i wasn’t involved in the initial incident, but it was really rough on him. i think i was about fourteen? i was in a ‘pigtails and braces” era 😭 BUT regardless, since i was close with both him and sylvia, he’d let me help out once in a while.

sometimes “helping” consisted of grading the littler kids’ homework (in exchange for extra credit, because death may not always be fair but malistaire drake is!) with malorn. malistaire would generally read over essays while malorn and i chatted and went over the basics of necromancy, deciphering the kids’ handwriting…

other times, he and sylvia would teach me interweave necromancy with theurgistic healing spells, which sylvia would boost, in order to help malistaire out with the residual pain and perceived muscle atrophy. i guess his symptoms were similar to extensive/prolonged nerve damage/paralysis? but after that, i pretty much aced all my practical theurgy classes until sylvia died without lifting a finger.

cw: miscarriage — i mentioned earlier that the head magic school professors were like parents to their respective classes. and that’s true, to an extent. they filled the parental role for a lot of us students, since we lived at the school, especially for little kids. but then we’d go out into the world, sometimes in a matter of months. malistaire and sylvia wanted something a little closer to home. they tried really hard to have a baby. several times, i might add. there were a couple of times where it seemed like they might finally have a baby on the way, but Sylvia never even got to the halfway point.

cw: terminal illness — apparently, in all those attempts, a necromantic infection started to take root, similar to cancer. the strength of the leyline of death magic imbued in the essence of malistaire’s very being had poisoned sylvia like radiation. that was what had been killing their children, and now it would take her, too.

he searched desperately for a cure. everyone did, from traders who frequented the bazaar in olde town to first year novice diviners to little old ladies who never left their houses if they could help it. but there was just… nothing, aside from pain management. sylvia drake was dying, and there was nothing anyone could do. it came down on her suddenly, and the only mercy was that she thankfully didn’t suffer for very long. one day she was able to hold my hand, tell me that my healing abilities were a great comfort… the next, she was dead.

i think i was… eighteen? or nineteen? when the death school was destroyed. it was only a week or two after sylvia’s death, but malistaire wasn’t the same in the interim. he didn’t sleep or eat properly, spending every waking hour he wasn’t teaching pouring over every necromancy text he could get his hands on. his resurrection of sylvia had to be perfect. and when he was “teaching,” he was flightly and nervous and distracted. malorn and i started grading papers again, this time without Malistaire’s help, and malorn was already tutoring a few of the younger kids — how hard could it be to fill in the little gaps malistaire was leaving in his grief? (ohhh, malorn. thankfully, i’m not his life school equivalent because ambrose had already arranged for sylvia’s replacement, professor wu, to settle in and start teaching theurgy classes back when sylvia first got sick. wu was fully instated and ready to take over once the classes started back up about a week later, and us theurgy kids got a lot of counseling from sylvia’s diagnosis onward. the necromancy kids weren’t so lucky, as their/our former mentor was also a wanted man.)

malistaire was presumed dead when the death school went down, and dworgyn was considered missing, and we worried regardless of the fact that he turned out to be fine. we had no way of knowing.

there were rumors, sure — regarding both malistaire and dworgyn, (but. mostly malistaire) — but classes were canceled, an impromptu candlelight vigil had set up around the crater, there was a memorial service being planned…

…and then ambrose had reason to believe that the old death professor was still alive after all, and called upon one of ravenwood’s top students, morganthe.

lastly, cyrus. i actually spent a lot of time with him during “arc 1” of the game’s canon, after what had happened with sylvia and malistaire.

going back to an early malistaire fact for a moment; cyrus’s name means “humiliator of the enemy,” so they both have warrior names. makes sense for twins sent to dragonspyre academy.

i didn’t really talk to cyrus much while i was growing up? he was like an uncle i didn’t put much effort into getting to know. and like, you know how it is. i was a busy student with my own life and friends, and he was a professor with plenty of other students to look after. hell, i wasn’t even all that great at conjury…

that being said, cyrus was a good dude. when he was able to get into it, his genuine passion for conjurative magic was a breath of fresh air.

but he was also strict, and harsh, and prickly. i was lucky to have known him before his sister in law died and his brother lost his shit, and also to know him as an adult myself with more empathy and emotional maturity to understand why he lashed out.

after malistaire’s death, i helped cyrus with malistaire’s body. he was… curt. clearly grieving. and i was, too. but his was more… angry. i just wanted my mentor to be at peace.

we consulted various necromantic texts, along with those on conjuration and sorcery, and eventually laid malistaire to rest with a bunch of protective talismans so that no one could raise him again as he had done to sylvia.

#hazel speaking #scrapbook #ravenwood #s drake #m drake #c drake #morganthe #ambrose #malorn #WHOOH. OKAY #hope yall like the dividers i made em myself outta preexisting assets so they'd look more official :3c #they’re simple but hey! they get the job done real nice :)

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chaoticgeminate · 2 years

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Discovering Life

Part of the Iridescence Fictional Universe

Chasing Shadows Series Part One

Pairing: Shade!Thief x Necromancer f!Reader Word Count: 3.2k Series Summary: Bound to a bloodline of Necromancers by a curse, the Shade is determined to trick the current descendant into breaking the curse while keeping his freedom. Chapter Summary: You learn something about yourself, your magic, that you'd never known. Notes: Every member of the Wanderer's Star Coven is brought to you by a slew of my discord besties and fellow authors. A prequel to this does exist for anyone who hasn't seen it yet!

[AO3]

“Seriously?

Something akin to an amused sound escaped the mage dragging you through the bland hallways of the Consortium at the tone in Hazel’s voice, you would think that being proven innocent they wouldn’t be this rough with you but as the Se’Kvia scapegoat of all things magic it just about tracked with past treatment. Your sister didn’t look amused, in fact she looked furious, and you deflated a little at the sight of your nephew clinging to her leg; all you’d wanted to do was go to his birthday party today, not get arrested for a crime you didn’t commit. Again.

“I’m sorry-“

“Not you, this is the fifth time in the month that they’ve gone and arrested you with no evidence and I know for a fact you were with Vivi and the others when your magic was supposedly detected at that artifact gallery.” Hazel was pissed and you didn’t feel at all sorry for the way the guard shrunk under her glare, the raw feeling of her magic seeping out of her sent a chill down your spine, and Ernest hurried to cling to your leg when the man finally released your restraints.

“Happy birthday, little dude, ready to go party?” His grin was bright as he nodded, you knew he was probably more afraid than he was letting on but the little half-elf was good at keeping his emotions in check already, and you looked up at Hazel as she re-centered her focus and contained her magic just as Nathan Landry came out of the main hall to investigate the swell of magic. His dark eyes landed on you and it was just like always, with almost everyone associated with the Consortium, that you watched the way his brow furrowed and his scowl deepened.

“One of these days I’m going to figure out how you’re-“

“My sister is innocent, again, and she has an alibi of ten people as well as CCTV evidence of where she was at the time you claimed she was at that gallery. How do I file a lawsuit for prejudice and wrongful arrests against the Consortium, I’m getting sick of all you dumb fucks -don’t repeat that, baby boy- and I’m going to put a stop to it.” Hazel’s tone was sharp and you smiled at the back of her head, unable to help the way your chest constricted with emotion.

Hazel wasn’t your relative by birth but she’d practically adopted you as her sister when you’d met in your shitty University, freshly an adult and no longer able to be protected by the already shaky shielding your family offered you from the prejudice of the Consortium, and the pair of you had been close ever since. Hazel had helped you find courage to stand up for yourself against the onslaught of people who hated you while you’d offered her support and care when she worked to get away from her parents’ influence.

Nathan’s face deepened in color, the man had gone from an assistant attorney to one of the most known legal representatives in Se’Kvia after the Álvarez case. The oratiomancer was one of the most respected men in the Consortium and also one of the most closed-minded, and the idea of going after the Consortium legally had probably never been something he expected anyone to do.

“Your sister is dangerous and deserves to have her magic stripped away.” Nathan’s remark was delivered with an icy glare and you met that look head on with your own scowl firmly in place, the orationmancer went to say something but Ernest’s little voice piped up before he could.

“But Auntie hasn’t hurt anyone or done anything wrong or dangerous, so why is she always in trouble? Mama always said the magic chooses who wields it and if Auntie didn’t get to pick the magic she was born with then why do you hate her for something that isn’t her fault?” Your eyes darted to your nephew and his expression was fairly intense as he met Nathan’s stern look with the innocence that came from childhood, of having minimal exposure to prejudices and influence from people like Nathan in his life, and the man tensed up a little as he stared back at your nephew.

He practically changed in a heartbeat, stance relaxing and face softening, and seeing this man you knew as stern and imposing basically change before your eyes was quite bizarre. If anything you were more than a little weirded out by how easily he went from cold to this, his tall form crouching to meet Ernest’s eyes at your nephew’s level, and the look on his face was almost affectionate. Hazel and you both locked gazes and her lips twitched in a way that you knew she was not pleased and while you didn’t want her to get arrested for assaulting a legal official you sort of wanted to see her curse the hell out of the man.

“Your mother is right, the magic chooses the person who controls it, but your Auntie’s magic is a very dangerous thing and we here at the Consortium have to protect everyone even if it means taking that away from her.” You could feel the burst of outrage bloom in your chest, ugly and coiling like a serpent ready to strike, because you didn’t even have training and he was still acting like you were a threat. You had never once hurt anyone with your magic and yet the Consortium was acting like you had.

“If Auntie’s magic was dangerous she’d let you take it away, she’s a really good person and wouldn’t be able to live knowing she’d hurt someone, but you didn’t answer why you hate her for something she couldn’t choose.” Ernest wasn’t taking the avoidance or deflection Nathan had tried to use, something about your nephew that you really truly adored, he was a brilliant kid and almost impossible to trick, it made things harder whenever he had some really advanced questions for someone his age but if you told him that it was for people a little older he would always let it go.

In this case he wasn’t going to take no from Nathan, you could see the stubborn set to his little shoulders, and your eyes stung with tears that you quickly willed away. You weren’t that lonely, angry, person you had been in the past anymore; you had a family that loved you now.

“Did your mother tell you about the Sundering? About how the Citadel turned against the Consortium?” Hazel bristled and you knew why since his tone had turned slightly condescending but Ernest’s little scowl deepened.

“Of course she did, but that was hundreds of years ago and before Auntie was even born, and my Mama Raven fought in that war and she doesn’t treat my Auntie like an enemy. I think you’re just scared because you’re unwilling to forgive or apologize for being mean.” Nathan’s nostrils flared briefly but he was saved when his name was called and you looked up to see that Oliver, the mage that had escorted you to the door, was finally either too scared or too tired of you being here.

“Ignore the kid, Nathan, we’ve got work to do.” Nathan stood up and tugged his suit jacket a little, meeting your gaze with an icy look, and then he was gone without even a goodbye. Unaware that all he was doing was further lowering Ernest’s opinion of the Consortium, the boy admittedly already thought pretty low of them.

“Let’s go have some cake, ice cream, and a good birthday party. Okay, little man?” You smiled when he squeezed your hand in his as you offered it, looking over at Hazel as she seethed beside him, but her eyes lightened when you reached out to poke her on the cheek and offered a cheeky grin.

“Yea, come on baby boy, let’s go party.”

You had thought the issue was dropped, the birthday party had gone well and using a good amount of make-up to cover the mark on your face meant that none of the parents or family members even tried to place why you seemed familiar. All too busy watching their kids run around and play, enjoy themselves, and you’d been able to see Ernest and Pearl blossom as they finally opened up to their new friends. Raven, Hazel, and all the others had been relieved to see it since the move from the Outer Rim to the Central District had been hard on the pair.

So naturally three days later, when you were lounging in your hammock among the circle of trees where the Coven met three times a week your attention was drawn to the sudden and loud burst of outrage from Treasa. Raven was crouching near you, tending to the delicate mistwhisper bushes lining the Coven’s sacred clearing and her lack of a response meant that this was something she’d known was going to happen, your brows furrowed as you watched Hazel nod and Vivi’s eyes lifted to look at you with a burning intensity in them.

Many were wary of her, for good reason since she was descended from a very old -and powerful- bloodline of Seelie Sidhe witches; and the Sidhe Courts had always leaned matriarchal in power and inheritance. Where Kassidy had a Sidhe father and human mother, inheriting mostly human features since male Sidhe traits were a less dominant gene, Vivi looked other at first glance. You knew she wasn’t angry at you but the intensity in her eyes could still send chills down your spine.

“They didn’t put anything on her record, right?” Vivi’s tone was sharp, dangerous to a degree that sent turned those chills to straight ice, but you knew that it was because she was ready to go after Nathan and the Consortium on her own. Treasa cut in before Hazel, or you, could reply as you made your way toward the circle of stone seats around the crystal alter to the Wanderer’s Star.

“I will go raise hell if they did.” Treasa was the Coven’s envoy to the Consortium, not working for the magic-governing body but working with them to ensure that the Coven was kept up-to-date on any changes in the laws or if the Consortium tried to arrest any members of the Coven. The governing body loved to take advantage of the fact that, being a Necromancer, you weren’t technically a part of the Coven in the way the Witches around you were.

“No, they had no proof again, it’s fine-” You hurried to cut in, not wanting any of them to risk themselves for you more than they already did, but it was too late.

“I don’t care if they had proof or not, they’re treating you like a lesser citizen for being born with a curse that made you a Necromancer. As if you chose this path for yourself.” With how sharp the outrage was in Skye’s voice it was pretty clear she was pissed and you flinched in response before Willow was pulling you into a gentle hug, knowing that you still had issues with people being angry around you, and Caelum clapped her hands together loud enough to earn the group’s focus.

“Has anyone actually inspected you? I know we didn’t, but are you sure you’re a Necromancer by definition and not just a Witch who can use Death Magic because of that curse?” Having lived your whole live with magic blockers, forced to keep your aura contained to avoid people staring at you, the thought of letting them near that part of you was kind of scary even if you did trust every person here with your darkest secrets. But the idea that you weren’t exactly what you’d thought, that maybe your family curse had some leeway and nobody bothered to check this whole time was tempting.

“I don’t- if they did then they never explicitly said.” You watched Caelum and Daphne exchange looks before Willow released you and tilted her head in an unspoken question, with Daphne getting up and offering her hands to you. For a brief moment you shivered and were suddenly nervous, Hazel was the only one that had interacted directly with your magic before. For so long you’d had it kept sealed, at first by force due to your family and then willingly after your first interaction with people in University before Hazel, and even with it unsealed you never let it out.

But you were curious, you had to know, and your hands slowly extended before you rested them against Daphne’s and allowed your aura to finally breathe. The chill of your magic made everyone aside from Hazel and Kassidy shiver, a natural response from those of a Light Nature when exposed to death magic, and Daphne’s hands took on a pale blue shine as she let her aura seep out to inspect yours. It felt like the lightest of touches on skin and sent gooseflesh down your arms and legs, carefully meant to convey no intent of harm to avoid your magic spiking in a defensive way, and the glow of magic that made any spell caster’s eyes shimmer like gemstones faded gently as her aura pulled back.

“I should have known- when the Wanderer’s Star guided all of us together you only assumed you were there because of Hazel -and at the time we had no reason to believe otherwise- but I can feel it, lurking beneath your curse and the death magic that comes with that curse. You’re meant to be a Witch.” Daphne’s eyes brightened since, as a Witch, you could become an official member of the coven and gain the same protections from the Consortium that the others had. Although it meant they would most likely be under much heavier scrutiny, something you didn’t quite want to cause them, you could see the way their faces lit up with delight.

Maybe it was not wanting to disappoint them, maybe it was the fact that you felt more like you belonged, but you wanted to be able to be who you were meant to be and stay by the side of your family even if it meant facing the possibility of the Consortium’s wrath.

“Queen Siora and Queen Rhodanthe are willing to support King Anwen’s request that death magic practitioners be welcomed back to Se’Kvia, that’s why more and more dark elves and lesser demons have been allowed to flee Iocrethran. Even under monitoring they get a lot more freedoms than you do, which is just a clear prejudice since they won’t touch political allies. Once you’re recognized as a Witch they’ll be backed into a corner on the constant arrests, because violating your protection laws as a member of the Coven will be seen as a risk to the refugees looking to make a home here.” Aelius’ grin was soft, as someone who worked very close with the Light Elf court she was usually the first to know most of the political sway of the agencies and courts outside of the Consortium.

Nylia stared at the clearing edge for a long moment before nodding her head, as if coming to a decision, and Vivi cast a cautious glance her way before smiling softly.

“Queen Áilís Nic Catháin has already stated that she’s been willing to move beyond the Sundering, but I’ll meet with her and seek protection for you as a member of my Coven.” It had been the biggest surprise to learn that Nylia was one of the Seelie Queen’s many descendants, forced to fight her own family to determine her strength early in life, and as one of the strongest she held a seat of influence in the Seelie Court. It was rare for her to use it, to throw her status as a royal around, but to do so for you only made your eyes water.

Vivi pulled you into a tight hug and whispered the promise that you’d be safe, making you burst into tears as the realization that you could begin to actually live a normal life set in.

“Your curse bound you to someone, something, from a realm relating to the dead.” You looked over at Daphne and sniffled, she’d taken a seat in the grass and was divining with the very wind as her sight and Ikarus was perched on her shoulder. Saphira’s quiet support as she reached out to take your hand, squeezing gently, made you smile as you leaned against her gently. The wind seemed to become more opaque before shifting and swirling into the shape of a bipedal form, humanoid, but with no features any of you could discern.

“Then it looks like we’ll have to get you trained up, find whoever this is, and force the Consortium’s hand to either drop their grudge or have the entire Magister’s Council forced to step down.” Hazel nudged you and Raven whispered something to the rowan tree as she rested her forehead against the bark, the branches groaned and shifted in a wind that didn’t blow as the message was steadily passed through the very wilding magic of the Earth itself.

“Starting, with summoning your Familiar.” Kassidy’s grin was big as she handed you a bag of silver flakes and a charcoal stick, your lips wobbled, and Hazel cast a shining trail of raw magic to show you the pattern to follow. The line of charcoal began to gleam in an iridescent way, greens and purples shining in the dark shade, and the silver flakes sparked when you began sprinkling them along the intricate circle while channeling your magic. A call was what Hazel had likened it to, opening yourself and reaching out to the entity that was meant to help you hone your magic, and while you feared a ghoul or some other ghastly thing would appear you knew that in the end death magic was something you’d live always and that it was time to accept that.

Chattering and clacking as the blinding light shimmered from the drawn lines sent a sharp relief through your very aura, a release of pressure you hadn’t known was building up, and when the glow faded you stared at the Familiar sitting there looking up at you. It was a feline, you could recognize the general body shape, but it was a skeleton feline; the empty eye sockets were blackened out and the ‘eyes’ were a toxic shade of green floating in the center.

You could practically feel its thoughts, as you were generally supposed to with Familiars, and the feline was happy. It had been waiting for you for a long time and you opened your arms with a smile, it crawled into your hug with a meow that sounded like it was faded and distant.

“I always wanted a fur baby of my own, though animals never really liked me, but I’m pretty happy with this.” Hazel was grinning as Raven rolled her eyes skyward, likely predicting the fascination that Ernest and Pearl were going to have with the new addition to their lives.

“I’m going to call you Furbie, short for fur baby.”

“Congratulations, you’re officially a Witch.”

All Fics Taglist:@hardc0rehaylz @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @musings-of-a-rose

Just Pedro Taglist@maievdenoir @beecastle @dins-cyare @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

Coven Taglist: @iamskyereads @ezrasbirdie @lowlights @javierpinme @starlightmornings @leslie-lyman @daddydindjarin @rook-on-bough

#chaoticwrites #iridescence fictional universe #chasing shadows #shade!thief #necromancer f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the thief x reader #the thief x f!reader

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offbrandspacecolumbo · 2 years

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Curse of Strahd Kitbashing pt3

So, previously, I was bouncing what to do with some of the Fey elements I want to bring in to augment the story. I had not one but two Archfey to pick from - Kannoth, a vampiric fey who survived the collapse of his city (with necromancy) and now serves as the court mage of the Unseelie from his city of the dead; and Neifion, a general of the Queen of Air and Darkness who resides on both the Feywild and the Shadowfell, and whose body is a mix of both man and bat, but has been imprisoned within his castle by a permanent artificial sun. I don't think I can do both. Originally, I was planning on Kannoth; after booting the Dark Powers, I'd have no need for the Amber Temple, and I could plop his city in its place. Or at least, a gateway to reach the city, if nothing else. I planned to force a connection between him and the Dusk Elves to perhaps justify the curse he placed on Strahd, and overall I was just interested in this necromancer vampire-fey. However, I've gained a bit of appreciation for the Dark Powers and the Shadowfell. While I'd still like to implement the Feywild, I also want to rock the Domains of Dread and the Dark Powers. And for that, Neifion, the imprisoned bat who's got influence in both, would serve me better. In addition, as he's imprisoned, this both informs his relationship with the rest of the realm (he, *too*, is a prisoner of this massive jail cell), and also conveniently keeps him out of the picture for much of the game so I can focus on Strahd (bonus: one of my players **already has a pact to help bust Neifion out,** so he was always going to play a minor role but now this just fits so well) One of the main reasons I wanted to include the Fey in the first place was because I wanted to play up Strahd's punishment; it already felt like the kind of karmic prank-punishment an insulted Fey might give someone who's slighted or wronged them. But an angle I never considered was that, for all his faults and his evils, Strahd legitimately protects his lands. Or, protected his lands, in older editions - from the Dark Lords of other Domains of Dread, and the Dark Powers. An angle that's been apparently dropped for the 5e version adds a lot more depth to Strahd's character - he's not just the BBEG, he's a lot more complicated than that. Strahd 100% deserves a stake to the heart no matter what. But even as he makes his world miserable, he also actively protects it from guys who'd make it even *worse,* and it'd be a shame to forget that. An interesting point of conflict for the party, or at the very least a neat detail. With Kannoth completely gone, with nothing left representing him on the board, that's just Neifion, the Dark Powers, and... do I need anything else? I'll have to answer the question of how this Neifion and this Strahd got imprisoned, but I'll have to do so later. For now, it's 2:15, and I need sleep. But I think I need to fill a Jailor role. I also think I'd like a copy of an older-edition Ravenloft book, so I could learn more about what I heard.

#Curse of Strahd #Feywild #Neifion #Kannoth #DnD #Homebrew #I needed to sleep 2 hours ago why do I do this to myself #Honest to god this has happened 5 times in the past week #Also I know Neifion's his whole thing or whatever #But I've tried to hunt down some form of source on him and all I could find was an old '09 novel #Wasn't even the first book in its series lol #Seemed to be a book about a Keeper of the Cerulean Sign tho #That prestige class takes me back #Anyways bleh time to sleep

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ledbiantastic · 3 years

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Okay, it's time for my Harrow The Ninth read through post. Spoilers, obviously. Thanks to @shakespearerants, @irascibubble, and @mayasaura for encouraging me to keep going. Enjoy!

I am on page 33 of Harrow the Ninth and I am making a prediction. I initially thought the Body referred to the dead girl in the locked tomb, but now I think it's Gideon. We'll see if I'm right.

Page 44 says it is the dead girl in the tomb, but I'm not convinced it isn't also Gideon

Gideon must be important to have to be erased from Harrow's mind like that, right?

Did Ortus the First kill/try to kill Gideon's mom? The timeline adds up, they said he messed something up nineteen years ago, Gideon was 18 in the last book and time has passed

In the weird retconned memories, after every death, or during, someone says "is this how it happens" which makes me think it's, like, Harrow's brain asking that

Who are those notes from and to? What's up with that?

I love seeing Harrow spend time with Magnus and Abigail. I liked them

If Harrow is haunted, but this is not the real version of the past, is her mind creating the ghost? Is it Gideon? I don't think Gideon would write notes like that though...

Page 291 is Ortus talking to her like she's Gideon's mother? IS HE ASKING WHY SHE BROUGHT ALONG THE BABY?

Is Ortus' cavalier more active or something? Like he doesn't remember because she takes control?

Page 315 "he had seen me" who is he and who is me? Who is narrating this to Harrowhark? Is. It. Gideon? (Later I decide it's Palamedes seeing the Sleeper, who is also narrating and is possibly Gideon. We'll see if that's right.)

Is the poster on page 318 Gideon? Is It? IS IT? But Gideon's hair didn't go down to her shoulders. Is it her mom?

Are Camilla and Coronabeth on the side of the rebellion? BOE? Is old Harrow? I KNEW IT! But I'm sad they're on different sides.

Is Ianthe the spy? Is that how she knew Coronabeth was alive?

Does the Sleeper represent the part of Harrow and/or her brain that erased her memories and it's cleaning up the debris in her psyche? OR IS IT GIDEON? AKA the DORMANT part of Harrow-as-Lyctor? When the Sleeper is unmasked, will we see Harrow or Gideon?

Did Gideon's mother start the rebellion or something? Is that why they had a poster of her? Was she Eden?

So, Canaan house was on earth then?

Did Harrow (old Harrow) tamper with her own temporal lobe? Did Mercymorn? Ianthe?

Whose idea was it for Ortus to kill her then? John? Augustine? Mercymorn? Someone else?

Did Harrow break into the locked tomb? I want to believe she did, because I support her. But if not, who is the Body?

Shit, I can't remember what color Gideon's eyes were. Page 363 when Harrow's eyes are two different colors, black and gold

Ianthe wants to marry Harrow? Weird. I don't ship it. But I'm kind of stuck on Gideon and if I wasn't, maybe.

See a man about a queen? What does it mean? What is Ianthe doing? Also love that she cursed Harrow's hair to grow extra, just to be petty.

I'm so confused by chapter 40. What the hell is going on? Why is Harrow trying to be a cavalier? The fuck? Role swapped false memory? What is even happening?

Is Harrowhark's brain just, like, randomly spit-balling while she's dying or something? Love that Abigail and Magnus seem to be aware that it's not real.

OH OH OH THAT WAS GIDEON! SERVING THE COFFEE AND MAKING HARROW BLUSH IN THE THIRD(?) FALSE MEMORY OR DREAM OR WHATEVER! I love that Abigail is NOT having this, like, no I'm not gonna watch your romance novel version unfold.

I think I've noticed that the ones who have speaking roles the weird memories are the ones who died in the last book.

Are they all taking active part in these false scenarios? All the dead from Canaan house?

Oh my god oh my god here it is she remembers and she's so sad!

So she erased Gideon to save her soul. Nope nope nope nope nope I can't. I can't deal with these feelings. Y.Y

Who the fuck is the angry spirit?!?!

Who fucking stabbed her?

IS GIDEON DRIVING HARROW'S FUCKING BODY AROUND DURING A FIGHT? HELL YES! AND THAT MEANS I WAS RIGHT THAT SHE'S NARRATING!

OH AND I PREDICT THE GHOST IS CYTHERIA!

I'm still thinking about what Harrow did. It's so sweet and so sad and she's so lonely and she didn't even know how lonely she was.

Also I'm already excited to reread this series.

Oh yeah, this is GIDEON in here, swearing up a storm and trying to use a sword.

Okay, first I'm getting emotional just from heading Gideon's voice, then I'm emotional about what it was like for her to be in Harrow's body/mind, then I'm emotional about all the things she wanted to say but didn't have time, AND THEN I'M EMOTIONAL when Gideon says why she thinks Harrow did it and I'm like baby nooooooo it was because she loved you, not because she didn't want to rely on you! Honey, baby, no!

"Harrowhark, I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it." HARROWHARK, I GAVE YOU MY WHOLE LIFE AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN WANT IT. 💔💔💔😟😟😟😭😭😭 Excuse me while my heart breaks.

Oh, also a bigger issue in this book is the whole concept of the afterlife? And it's messed up because of the emperor? I don't know why I wasn't prepared for that but I wasn't.

Ortus holding Harrow and pointing out that she and Gideon were neglected children is making my therapist soul ascend.

I'm such an idiot. His name wasn't Ortus, it was Gideon. He did kill Gideon's mother, that's why she shouted his name. Or they were in love? One or the other... Or both?

Harrow did a find and replace in her brain and it had unexpected consequences.

I've been leaning more and more towards the Sleeper and ghost being Cytheria.

Oh my sweet sword lesbian himbo, how I've missed you. "The sword I had to hold overhead in one hand as I used the other to keep everything inside you; stuff was coming out, Harrow, I don't know precisely what stuff because I'm not a goddamn necromancer."

Gideon is OCCUPYING HARROW'S BODY during a deadly invasion and is like, 'I'm gonna shut my eyes to reach under the shirt and get rid of encumbrances. I tried not to touch you, so don't get mad.' I feel like Harrow would be the first one to say 'do whatever you have to do to stay alive, you imbecile!'

So Mercymorn stabbed Harrow... So the heralds would eat her as a way to buy time? Was that the plan? Gideon calling her "my necromancer" made my heart do a thing.

I want to understand what she's saying about Gideon's mother. Was Gideon a science experiment? Like Kipo?

Where. THE FUCK did Cytheria get the gun?

Dulcie is *horny for revenge* Abigail is a BAMF and my new (and final?) prediction is that the Sleeper is Gideon's mom.

Gideon and Ianthe is a fun dynamic. I love how protective Gideon is, that she's mad at Ianthe for hurting Harrow's heart.

Gideon must have her mother's eyes to be freaking all the lyctors the fuck out.

"I wanted you to use me... I wanted you to live and not die... Harrow. I already gave my flesh to you, and I already gave you my end. I gave you my sword. I gave you myself. I did it while knowing I'd do it all again, without hesitation, because all I ever wanted you to do was eat me." Why am I crying? 😭😭😭😭😭 Why is this the most romantic thing when it's also full of insults and curses and is followed by a your mom joke? What a Gideon thing to do, be so romantic and gross and sassy all at once. I love her, I want to be her. Gideon forever.

Love that Ianthe also thinks Harrow got rid of Gideon because she didn't want her. /s I'm starting to worry that it's silly for me to hold onto the 'because she can't live without Gideon' explanation.'

"But Nonagesimus, you hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I'd had your full attention." That's why indifference is the opposite of love, hate is still passionate attention. But this also makes me feel so bad for Gideon because she deserves to be loved, dammit!

Okay, "gall on gall" is pretty hilarious. Good job Ianthe.

Love that the ghost of Matthias Nonius speaks in meter because he's been so deified by the Ninth house, and he's confused by it. It's like people in a musical being aware they're in a musical, like, why am I singing?

Ortus' poem was important after all!

Is it the sword? Does Harrow have to destroy Gideon's sword? Because that would break my heart a little.

"It bewildered her, back at Canaan House, how the whole of her always seemed to come back to Gideon. For one brief and beautiful space of time, she has welcomed it: that microcosm of eternity between forgiveness and the slow uncomprehending agony of the fall. Gideon rolling up her shirt sleeves. Gideon dappled in shadow, breaking promises. One idiot with a sword and an asymmetrical smile had proved to be Harrow's end." I just... This is so beautifully written. And describing Gideon as one idiot with a sword is so perfect and right and I just... 🖤🖤🖤😭😭😭

No no no I hate this either/or bullshit! I know I'm a sappy optimist, but I want both of them to survive, damnit! I want Harrow to be able to go back to her body without losing Gideon's soul. I want Gideon to keep existing.

What does Dulcinea know?!?!

Commander? That's Gideon's mom, right? Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity

What does that all mean? Are those Eminem lyrics? What other language is in there?

WHAT'S ALL COME OUT?

I knew she was in the sword.

Oh my god, if you need John to get in the tomb, and she was trying to get in the tomb and had something, a tool... Samples... She was armed with the baby... Is Gideon's father John? Is Gideon the fucking child of God?

She named the baby Bomb... This whole series could have been Bomb the Ninth... Bomb Nav...

Yep yep called it, child of God. The first time they put that plan in action was to get sperm to make Gideon. The second time was so Harrow could kill the first Gideon.

A dad joke?! A DAD JOKE?!

Gideon and Harrow were so cruel to each other as kids. It just makes me so sad.

Was Harrow able to get into the tomb because she made Gideon bleed?

So is Alecto John's cavalier? Annabel and Alecto... Are the same person? I'm so confused. She's the body in the locked tomb? But how is that related to her eyes being in his genes?

Wait, the eyes switched? I continue to be confused. Did he do the lyctor thing but also put a part of both him and his cavalier into the cavalier's body? But she was never human? What's going on? Why do they think she never had genes?

Oh cool, Mercy killed God and now everyone's gonna die... ... ... Ooooor not.

I love that beating up Harrow is Gideon's job AND saving Harrow is Gideon's job. Very cute.

Sooooo Gideon the OG and Pyrrha both fucked Gideon's mom... With the same body...

Gideon, such a romantic, wishing she had Harrow's name on her lips as she died. "I mean, yeah, I was thinking about you too; if I could've turned that off I would've turned it off years ago" HAHAHAHAHA You can't stop thinking about Harrow even if you want to! God, what a sweet himbo.

"Yes, well, jail for mother" says Gideon... Is she referencing Miette? Jail for mother for one thousand years!

Okay, so we have definitely confirmed that the Body is Alecto/Annabel/God's cavalier.

What did Dulcinea tell her? That Gideon is moving her body around? Doesn't she know that? Shouldn't that not be a surprise?

Okay, so, wait, what happened to Harrowhark?

ARRRRRGH I'm not smart enough for this book! Or I'm not visual enough! I know I should recognize the description of bobbed hair and "lambent" eyes but I have no idea who it is and also WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO GIDEON AND HARROWHARK?! UGH NOW I HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE NEXT BOOK AND I'M GONNA BE SO IMPATIENT AND CONFUSED!

Well that was fun to reread. Impressed I got some things right, but mostly I was very wrong.

#harrow the ninth #spoilers #locked tomb spoilers #locked tomb trilogy #doing my best #lesbians are just so good #disaster lesbian #it's me i'm the disaster lesbian here #i love this himbo #himbo gideon nav #live blogging #abigail pent #dulcinea septimus #ianthe the first #long post

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florentinedevil · 5 years

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historical zoroaster facts that will be active on this blog.

was an assistant and collaborator to leonardo da vinci and andrea verrochio. particularly on the battle of anghiari in the palazzo vecchio.

Leonardo and Zoroaster were really good friends, so much that the genius from Vinci made him the lead character of some of his humorous novels. We know that Zoroaster as well as magic was also involved in mechanics and painting, and is mentioned among the assistants of Leonardo da Vinci during the painting of the Battle of Anghiari in 1503.

He chose Zoroaster as a stage name to give himself an aura of exotic mystery and strengthen his sinister reputation as a necromancer, magician and alchemist.

Leonardo made him an outfit of gall-nuts, and for this reason he was for a long time known as Il Gallozzolo [‘the Gall-Nut’].

Leonardo went to Milan and with him went Zoroaster, and there he was known as Indovino ‘the Fortune-Teller’, since he professed the arts of magic.

He is supposed to have had patrons in the form of Giovanni Rucellai, the ambassador of Portugal, and the Ridolfi family.

On his tomb there is an angel with a pair of tongs and a hammer, striking at the skeleton of a dead man, representing the faith he had in the resurrection.

He would not kill a flea for any reason whatever. He preferred to dress in linen so as not to wear something dead.

This has its obscurities, but gives us an attractive idea of Zoroastro as something between a jester, a magician and an engineer – and also a vegetarian, as Leonardo was reputed to be.

Zoroastro is the ‘Maestro Tommaso’ referred to by Leonardo in some accounting notes of 1492–3:

This would place him as an independent craftsman working under the aegis of Leonardo’s Milanese studio. He is a metalworker, which ties in with Ammirato’s mention of his interest in mining. In another near-contemporary source – a Venetian manuscript which has some copies of Leonardo machinery – he is described as a ‘blacksmith’. In 1492–3 Leonardo was involved in a very ambitious project – the casting of the gigantic equestrian statue known as the Sforza Horse – and doubtless the expert metallurgist Masini was involved in that too, and in many other projects: military, architectural and indeed aviational.

Another first-hand account of Zoroastro has recently surfaced. It is in a letter from Dom Miguel da Silva, Bishop of Viseo – a courtly and well-connected Portuguese who is one of the interlocutors in Castiglione’s book The Courtier. The letter, dated 21 February 1520, is addressed to Giovanni Rucellai, the son of Bernardo. (This tends to validate Ammirato’s account of Zoroastro, which mentions his connection with both da Silva and the Rucellai.) At some point before the letter, we learn, Zoroastro had been living at the Rucellai country villa, Quaracci, outside Florence. Da Silva writes of visiting the house, where he was pleased to find ‘everything arranged just as if Zoroastro was still there – a great many cooking-pots with dried-up paste, and other pieces of pots that had already been in the fire, were to be seen all over the place’. These ‘cooking-pots’ are to be understood as chemical vessels – retorts, alembics, etc. – as the continuation of da Silva’s letter makes clear: Zoroastro is now in my house [in Rome] and governs me completely. We have some secret special rooms, and in the corner of a nice square room, in a place that once served as a little chapel, we have set up an excellent kitchen [i.e. laboratory], where I do nothing but puff with the bellows and pour out tremendous torrents of melted lead. We make spheres which shine brilliantly and in which appear strange human figures with horns on their heads and crabs’ legs and a nose like a prawn. In an old fireplace we have made a furnace, built up with bricks, and here we distil and separate the elements of everything; and with these we extract the fire from a marine monster [dactilo marino] which forever burns and shines. In the middle of the room there is a large table cluttered with pots and flasks of all sorts, and paste and clay and Greek pitch and cinnabar, and the teeth of hanged men, and roots. There is a plinth made of sulphur polished up on a lathe, and on this stands a vessel of yellow amber, empty except for a serpent with four legs, which we take for a miracle. Zoroastro believes that some gryphon carried it through the air from Libya and dropped it at the Mamolo bridge, where it was found and tamed by him. The walls of this room are all daubed with weird faces and drawings on paper, among which is one of a monkey who is telling stories to a crowd of rats who are attentively listening, and a thousand other things full of mystery.

This vivid account gives us Zoroastro the alchemist, distilling and decocting strange brews; Zoroastro the keeper of strange reptiles; and indeed Zoroastro the artist, daubing the walls of his Roman laboratory with grotesque faces and talking animals. He is almost like a comic, folkloric version of Leonardo da Vinci. His interest in alchemy or chemistry (broadly the same activity at this time, but with different ends in view) is cognate with his work as a metallurgist. I cannot resist attributing to him the recipe written out by Leonardo, probably in the late 1480s. Headed ‘Deadly smoke’ (Fumo mortale), and appearing on a sheet related to naval warfare, its constituents are: Arsenic mixed with sulphur and realgar, Medicinal rosewater, Venom of toad – that is, land-toad, Slaver of mad dog ,Decoction of dogwood berries, Tarantula from Taranto.

A few months after Miguel da Silva wrote his letter Zoroastro was dead. His epitaph, inscribed on his tomb in Sant’Agata, commemorated him as ‘Zoroastro Masino, a man outstanding for his probity, his innocence and his liberality, and a true Philosopher who looked into the darkness of Nature to the admirable benefit of Nature herself’.

Tommaso may have been something of a joker, but he was clearly no fool. The range of his protectors and hosts in Rome is also impressive: Giovanni Rucellai, da Silva, Giovan Battista Ridolfi.

anyway, all of this info was taken from an essay and as you can clearly see. zoroaster was much more than the role given to him in dvd. he might not be as famous as leonardo, but few people were lbh. but he still deserves his praise for renaissance contribution and also to leonardo’s life and florence. tagging @maestrodarte since hanana might find this interesting.

#( even a sinner can bloom from a flower : about. ) *

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usagi-did-nothing-wrong · 6 years

Text

Birth of A Necromantist - Chapter 3/Final Chapter

Warnings: Violence/gore

The elders of the House of the Rabbit murmured amongst each other. The Juuni Taisen was finally approaching once again, and it was time to choose a warrior to represent them.

“I don’t understand why we even bother! Our clan hasn’t won a Juuni Taisen in over a millennium! There’s no sense in sending some poor fool to die in a vain attempt at victory in our names!”

“We can’t just not compete. We’d be the disgrace of the Twelve Zodiac Houses.”

“What’s worse? Being an embarrassment because we don’t compete, or because we always lose? Losing always ends in death! Soon we won’t even have anyone left to even argue over this!”

“You’re over-exaggerating.”

“Am I?!”

The table was divided between the two opposing views and the argument grew into an uproar.

“Alright, smartass! Since you know everything, what do you propose we do? There’s no denying the truth of our history of failure, and since you’re so adamant on us competing, whose damned soul are we going to sacrifice this time?”

The pro-war side of the table fell silent. Would it really make any difference whether or not they fought? They were already considered the weakest of them all. Maybe they would be better off if they forfeit.

“I know someone who can fight.”

The crowd turned their attention to one of their youngest members. She tossed a decade old newspaper onto the table; the front page featured a young boy with the headline, “Kimura the Killer Sentenced to Life In Asylum.” The eldest members stared at the newspaper as if it were a joke.

“What could your explanation possibly be for this?”

“Don’t you remember this mass killing? A boy slaughtered one hundred people in one night, and then brought them back from the dead. Not only is this child capable of murder, but he can create an army from his victims.”

“He could be dead by now.”

“Are you serious? He was fifteen when he was committed.”

“He could’ve gotten sick. Even if he is alive, he could either be close to rehabilitation, or too dangerous to control.”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

Once again, the house fell silent. The eldest sighed and rubbed her temples.

“Fine. Find the Kimura boy.”

-x-

A pair of agents from the House of the Rabbit approached the front desk of the asylum. The secretary glanced up at the two.

“Can I help you?”

“Hopefully, yes. We represent the House of the Rabbit, and we’re looking for a recruit chosen by the elders to compete in the upcoming Juuni Taisen.”

“... uh huh. And your chosen one is a psych ward patient?”

“Specifically, we’re looking for Ryo Kimura.”

“Oh, him…” The secretary looked through her computer. “Well, I can see why you’d want him…”

“Will we be able to speak with him?”

“... I’ll have his nurse speak with you. Have a seat.”

The agents sat in the waiting room as the secretary called up to the floor.

“... they say they’re from a Zodiac House…” she muttered softly into the phone. “... the Rabbit House… yes, that one… I don’t know, I told them you’d talk to them… because he’s your patient… just come down for a minute…”

The agents waited around five minutes before they were greeted by a nurse.

“So, you’re here to see Kimura-san?” she asked.

“That’s correct,” an agent answered. “The elders of the House of the Rabbit have requested recruitment of your patient.”

“May I ask why?”

The agent handed the nurse a copy of the newspaper featuring Kimura-san. “We don’t know much about him as of today, but the night of the murders, he was shown to possess an astounding ability known as necromantistry.”

“... don’t you mean necromancy?” the nurse asked.

“Not in this case. A necromancer can reanimate any dead person or animal, regardless of circumstance. A necromantist can only reanimate those that they’ve killed.”

“Well, how do you know they were all his victims?”

“All of the people who had been resurrected were already in the city at the time of the slaughter. If he were just a necromancer, it would’ve been easier to stop by a cemetery so he would already have an army by the time he reached the city, don’t you think?”

The nurse looked over the newspaper in thought. “There are so many powerful people who would be willing to fight for you. Why him?”

The agents looked at each other and sighed.

“As much as it pains us to admit, the House of the Rabbit hasn’t seen a victory since the second Juuni Taisen. The elders are desperate to send someone who at least stands a chance. May we please speak with him?”

“... the doctor will have to be present, but… I’ll take you to him.”

-x-

“Are you sure you want to do this?” the doctor asked. “I mean… he’s been much calmer recently, but there’s no telling if you can actually control him.”

“We don’t need to control him. We just need him to cooperate until the night of the battle.”

The doctor twisted her mouth in concern, but led the agents to the open room where many patients usually socialized. However, there were very few patients present. A brutish, muscular man sat on the floor in front of a couch. Another patient sat silently with him, and a pair of nurses stood behind the couch. They were all silent and staring intently at the TV as it played cartoons.

“Ryo, what have you done?” the doctor asked.

The four looked at the doctor in unison. Their eyes all looked of obsidian with glowing rubies fixed in the middle. The smaller patient’s head lolled to the side; his neck had been broken. One nurse’s head had been smashed open, while the other had blood pouring from his chest. The large patient was the only one unharmed.

“It wasn’t me.”

“Ryo, we talked about this-”

“It wasn’t me!”

The doctor sighed. “There’s someone who would like to talk to you. Can you take a break from the TV for a few minutes?”

Ryo turned off the TV, but kept the remote in his hand.

-x-

“Do you understand what we’re asking of you?”

Ryo absentmindedly pressed the buttons on the remote as he thought. “So you’re saying… if I fight for you, I’ll be able to make as many friends as I want?”

“If you win, you’ll be granted a single wish, no matter what it is. If you wish for friends, so be it.”

“Then I accept.”

The agents were taken aback by the sudden acceptance, but were relieved nonetheless.

“Unfortunately,” they continued, “We won’t have time to train you, so you’ll have to rely on your necromantistry to survive.”

“My what?”

“Your ability to… ‘make friends,’ as you put it.”

“There’s a name for it? That’s so cool!”

“Indeed…” the agents muttered. “This is a great honor, Kimura-san. Once we clear everything with the hospital staff, we’ll arrange to have you taken to a safe haven to prepare for the battle. Win or lose, you won’t be coming back here.”

-x-

“Kimura-san, are you sure about this outfit?”

As the Juuni Taisen approached, the House of the Rabbit ensured that although Ryo didn’t have proper training, he at least had his costume and weapons prepared. The traditional Rabbit attire was very provocative, consisting only of a brassiere, tiny shorts with suspenders, red pumps, and a matching bowtie and cufflink set. Not to mention the bunny ears and giant, fluffy tail to show who they were representing.

“We’d be happy to tailor a new costume for you,” the seamstress said.

“No, I like this one.” Ryo looked at himself in the mirror as he modelled the outfit. His massive thighs and buttocks seemed to swallow the bottoms of the shorts, and his bulge threatened to pop out at any sudden movement. “I’ve seen people on TV dress like this, and they have lots of friends.”

The seamstress turned her head so she wouldn’t be caught blushing at the new warrior. They were soon joined by the blacksmith.

“Kimura-san, I’ve been given the honor of crafting your weapon. Have you given thought to what you will fight with?”

Ryo thought for a minute. He stepped up to a nearby desk, treading carefully in his high heels, and scribbled on a piece of paper.

“I want these.” He showed the blacksmith a crude drawing of a pair of asymmetrical swords; one resembled a butterknife, the other curved like a sickle that someone gave up halfway through making. “I used knives to make my first friends. My new friends deserve even better.”

A chill traveled down the blacksmith’s back as she took the drawing. “Simple, yet effective. I should have these ready before the sun sets tonight.”

-x-

“Who are you?”

“Usagi.”

“What is your title?”

“Warrior of the Rabbit.”

“How do you kill?”

“I kill… I kill psychotically.”

“Good. Now, introduce yourself.”

Ryo straightened his back and raised his swords, aptly named White Rabbit and March Hare. “Usagi, Warrior of the Rabbit, killing psychotically.”

The elder rested her hand on Ryo’s shoulder. “From now on, that is all you are. You are no longer Ryo Kimura. You are only Usagi. Remember that, and victory will be yours.”

“And my wish?”

“Once you win, it’s as good as yours.”

A sharp grin crept across the warrior’s face. “I’m ready to go fight now…”

END

#juuni taisen usagi #juuni taisen rabbit #warrior of the rabbit #birth of a necromantist #usagi's backstory

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