#pixandrian tag

[magicalmanhattanproject]

Pixandrian Customs: Makógu

In most empires, the clothes worn by the wedding party are as lavish and beautiful as the couple can afford. Pixandrians are something of an exception to this, at least if one only visits the happy couple on the day of their wedding.

The Pixandrian wedding apron, called the makógu, is astonishingly plain. It is a simple garment, no more than a broad strip of sturdy, undyed linen with a hole cut out for the head and a linen belt to keep it in place. 

The garment is meant to represent the potential of the new marriage and that potential is to be fulfilled over time. The makógu is not worn during most of the year. Rather, it is decorated. Each year on the anniversary of their marriage, the Pixandrian spouses will present each other with their makóguyo, which will have been decorated at some point during the year with a visual representation of something they love about their spouse. These can range from extremely literal (It’s said that almost everyone will simply depict their partner’s face at least once) to profoundly abstract (scorching the fabric to indicate “your love sets my heart ablaze” runs the risk of being misinterpreted).

Embroidery, painting, beadwork, and calligraphy are all common means of decorating. While one can hire trained artists, debates about whether one should are fierce and frequent. Some say that one should stitch one’s love with one’s own hand as a gesture of intimacy and the humbler beauties of love. Others assert that they know their own limits and leave it to the professionals to express their love in a language they could not adequately express themselves. 

Regardless of how the decorations are created, they must carry on each and every year. A makóguyu that has passed two anniversaries without being updated is grounds for a marriage to be annulled. 

While makóguyo frequently look rather unlovely, there is a special kind of beauty in seeing an elderly couple decked out in the proof of their deep and abiding love for each other swearing solemnly that the marriage only lasted this long because they never had to think up anniversary gifts.

#pixandrian tag #pixandria #empires smp #empires season 1 #pixlriffs #esmp

[darubyprincx]

very hot take apparently: men are okay actually

#ray's tag #the act of an individual or the act of a group of individuals does not affect the status of the whole! #are there men who are horrible? yes. just like there are women and people of every gender who are horrible. not all of them tbough #also the text in the post itself is a very broad generalization that i do not care to elabprate on tigjt now and if yhis ever passes #20 notes i'm turning off reblogs. i am not dealing with terfs today thank you #i am going to sit here and embroider the Pixandrian flag onto a piece of felt

[minecraftbookshelf]

So I was going through the ‘AU in which all marriages are arranged’ tag and I’m going to be honest, I love it. But I also was kinda skimming just to find some pix content lol.

I adore the Copper King and Pixandria and he will definitely be popping up a lot. He's going to be getting at least one backstory fic all his own and honestly probably another couple of oneshots here and there.

Also just, Pixandria is so much fun for worldbuilding, i will happily ramble at length about it given half the chance. Feel free to hit me up about it anytime!

Thank you for the ask and have some Pixlriff words! (With bonus Joel)

"They're calling me 'The Mad King' now," Joel says, apropos of nothing as he passes the wineskin back to Pix without looking at him. Pix takes a sip and corks it, laying it between them on the roof of the Matral Palace as he contemplates his response to that. The Pixandrian mead leaves the stars a little wiggly and fuzzy, the cosmic dust scattered in the night blurring together into an infinite skyway of distant light. "You don't sound upset about it."

Joel shrugs, the movement tugging on the blanket they're laying atop just enough to slosh the mead in its skin, barely audible beneath the chirping of insects and the distant sound of the surf on the terracotta shores. "'S true enough, really. And makes sense anyway." "It makes sense that you're mad?" The mead dulls the sharp edges of the world, but leaves Pix feeling a bit as if he's been blindfolded, and left to stumble his way through darkness where he is used to the clear illumination of a desert sunrise. Joel rolls over, his eyes glinting in the torchlight. "Pix I'm four hundred years old. Give or take a decade. Humans 'n't s'pposed to live longer 'n a quarter that at most. We aren't made for it, 'course its gonna mess wif' our heads." He drops back down flat onto the roof, slurring slightly, whether from the mead or exhaustion, Pix isn't sure. It's probably both. "We're not like Lizzie, or Jimmy, or even the fae folk. It breaks us a bit. I think. And its lonely." Pix hums an agreement, "it is just us, isn't it." "Yeah." They lay a moment longer, staring at the sky in silence before Joel speaks again, on the edge of sleep, so soft Pix can barely hear him. "I don' regret it tho. D'you?" He's asleep in the next instant, his breaths evening out and growing raspy with almost-snores. Pix stares into the stars, contemplating the sky and the night and the empty halls of a realm long abandoned. "I don't know."

-

AU Masterpost

#ask and it shall be answered #pixlriffs #pixandria #shitakimooshrooms #rain rambles #smallishbeans #rain writes fanfiction #the two constants of this au are #'there is comedy in everything' #and #'everybody be goin through it' #marriage of state au #mos: askbox #mos: sheeps #mos: pixlriffs #mos: joel

[ultra-raging-ghost]

genuine and probably stupid question, where are people getting her saying to stop talking about it from her saying she's not involved/has nothing to do with this and trying to be less visible????

I do not have twitter, so most of my infos second hand, but there are posts in the "#forever situation" tag that have translations of hers. These include her saying she's changed her username and pfp to avoid being associated and her further comments on this.

^^ this post above is the main one, but i've also followed a link to twitter with another post to her regarding her involvement and opinions on the situation that have been translated. I was actively searching for the post with the link but i think it may have either been deleted or filtered out of the main QSMP tag which is where i saw it several hours ago. If i find it i have all intentions of reblogging it so yall can see, but that will have to happen in the morning

#asks #<- not tagging this in the main tag because ive already made an almost identical post #the forever situation

[muuum-am-i-adohhhpted]

Beyond the Sunflower Field (Empires SMP)

summary: Pearl is working as a wandering trader trying to make a living when she discovers a barren plot of land. After planting a single potato, magical things begin to happen there and Pearl's luck begins to turn up. However, a messenger of King Pixlriffs shows up and tells Pearl that she's in trouble for trespassing on Pixandrian territory and that Pearl is to travel to Pixandria at once.

AO3 link

word count: 4895

warnings: Mentions of methods of torture (but not it happening to anyone in particular), mention of other empires, reference to the murder of llamas

~~~

Pearl was beginning to realize that being a wandering trader was possibly the most dangerous job ever. And she had spent most of her life being an underpaid miner. At least as a miner she could control her environment since she couldn't control the meager pay—she could kill the mobs that were in every dark corner, knew exactly what y-level every kind of ore spawned. 

But as a wandering trader, you couldn't control people's interest in your wares. The prices had to be high because you have to make a living somehow. Plus, every single time you passed someone, there was a high chance that you or your llamas would be murdered in cold blood and have to start all over again.

After having 50 different llamas be slaughtered, Pearl made the executive decision to carry her wares in a large backpack and drop the llamas completely. Which did slow her down and made it so she couldn't carry as much. But at least she wouldn't be the cause of llama extinction.

"How many nights?" The woman behind the counter intoned, shuffling through a stack of papers and hardly looking up at Pearl. Her name tag read Iris.

"One," Pearl replied. "Your cheapest room, please."

"Three diamonds."

Pearl winced as she emptied out the rest of her money bag she had saved up from her mining job. Tomorrow she'd have to find some place to exchange the handful of emeralds she owned.

Pearl was handed a ring with a single key and tag that read Room 4.

As soon as Pearl entered her room, the place smelling like mothballs and old coffee, she took off her backpack and dropped onto the bed. Kicking off her shoes, Pearl didn't even bother closing the curtains or even turning on a light. She pulled back the quilt and crawled into bed, the lumpy mattress hardly noticeable.

She thought back to the wandering trader she met before she quit her mining job. His blue cloak lined with gold and his two llamas wearing matching rugs on their back. How had he been so successful? He had been selling cactus, copper, and honey things. Pearl sometimes got her hands on those things and still could hardly afford a night's stay in a cheap room in a cheap inn, let alone elegant clothes for her and her hypothetical llamas.

The next morning, there was a friendly woman behind the counter. "Good morning. My name's Poppy. How was your stay?" She asked as Pearl handed over the key ring.

"Good. Say, would you happen to know where the nearest village is?"

"Yeah, it's quite far out, though. Just follow that river down there." Poppy pointed out the door and to the right.

And so Pearl was off. There was a dirt path she assumed had been created from all the foot traffic between the two villages. As she continued on, she picked a handful of flowers so she could hopefully sell its dye.

Passing by a sunflower field around noon, Pearl stopped to eat under the shade of the sunflower heads that were nearly the size of her own. Snacking on sweetberries, Pearl's eyes wandered around the field until, through the sunflower stems, she spotted a rock formation in the back of the field that resembled an archway.

Pearl stood up and put her backpack on once again, carefully making her way through the sunflower field. An inexplicable feeling was beginning to coil up in her and the only way she could explain it was that she was being called.

Pearl ducked under the rock and, as if she had passed through a portal, it was like she was in another world. There was almost no grass—the ground was made of coarse dirt and the only trees she could spot were the ones behind the rock archway and several kilometers away. The entire barren area was almost completely flat too, as if someone had planned to do something before abandoning it halfway through.

As Pearl's eyes skimmed over the large expanse, another stone-like structure caught her eye that looked to be smack dab in the center of the flat land. It stuck out like a sore thumb. From this distance, she couldn't quite place exactly what it was.

It was a shrine, Pearl realized as she drew closer. Surrounded by stones puzzled together with mortar was a statue about the height of Pearl. The woman depicted had long, flowing, hair decorated with sunflowers and wore a dress that spilled over the short pedestal she was standing on. A massive goose was at her feet, her right hand resting on its back while her left hand was held up, her fingers wrapped around something that was no longer there. Perhaps some kind of scepter? It was clearly an old statue due to the fact that it was poked with lichen and certain parts of the statue had broken off like chunks of hair and the sunflower petals in it.

Pearl turned her gaze downward where there was a small altar for offerings and a little square, nameplate. Brushing some pebbles and other debris away, before Pearl read off the carving.

Helianthia the Golden

goddess of crops and sunflowers

Again, Pearl looked around at the dirt land surrounding her and Helianthia. For a goddess of the crops, there weren't very many around her shrine.

Pearl shrugged off her backpack and began digging around for a stray potato or some other kind of vegetable. Similar to how she had been drawn to this area, Pearl felt the need to plant something in Helianthia's vicinity. It just seemed like the right thing to do. The goddess was clearly a forgotten one or even a local deity whose people moved away.

At last, Pearl pulled out a beaten potato. She filled a bucket full of water from the river that she had been following before crafting a wooden hoe to till the earth. Then, she carefully planted the single potato she had on her person. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

Pearl then cut a single sunflower from beyond the stone arch before carrying it over to Helianthia's altar as an offering.

Staring into the goddess' determined eyes one last time, Pearl put back on her backpack before trudging back to the river. A small part of her was sad to see the sunflower field fade into the distance. It was weird—she hadn't spent much time there but the comfortable atmosphere had been almost addicting despite the barren landscape.

It was late at night when Pearl arrived at the village at the end of the river. She managed to find an inn that took emeralds before spending the next day trying to sell her wares in the main square. She was a little more successful in this village than usual. Almost all of her dyes sold out. She promised the villagers that came up to her that she'd be restocked in two days. That gave her one day to go back to the village at the "beginning" of the river and another to make it back. Plenty of wild flowers grew back at that village and on the path between the two.

The next morning, Pearl began the long trek back after exchanging her current emeralds for some diamonds. Who knew that dye would be the thing that people wanted? She supposed it made sense—that village was in a dark oak forest where very little grew except mushrooms and dangerous mobs.

Pearl smiled as the sunflower field came back into view. Surely she'd be able to make it back to the village if she took a little detour. She winded through the sunflower stems and bent under the rock archway.

What Pearl saw next shocked her: a quarter of the field was filled with crops of potatoes. Running up to the crops, Pearl touched the leafy greens that were above ground to make sure she wasn't imagining things. What had happened here? Had someone replanted the single potato she had planted yesterday? But who? And potatoes didn't grow that fast. Maybe someone used bone meal, Pearl tried to rationalize. But, while bonemeal did speed up crops, it wasn't that quick that a single potato could multiply overnight.

Pearl couldn't logically think this through. The closest thing she could get to an answer was some mystery person had come overnight and used bone meal although, unless it was some kind of magical bone meal, that sped up crops by an ungodly amount. And, even if that was the case, why were they just now doing it? Why had this area been so desolate before Pearl planted the potato? Why did they wait for Pearl to plant something before helping out in secrecy?

Pearl walked over to Helianthia's shrine, hoping to find some note that told her what had gone on last night. But there was nothing. Her sunflower she had laid on the altar yesterday was the only thing there.

"Well," Pearl muttered to herself, hands on her hips as she overlooked the potato field, "it would be a complete waste to not harvest these potatoes. I don't want them going bad." And so, that afternoon, Pearl gathered as many potatoes as her poor backpack could carry, which was about a quarter of the field. She was surprised by their size. They were the largest potatoes Pearl had ever seen in her life. "Magic bone meal," she repeated out loud with wonder.

That evening, back sore from carrying potatoes, Pearl re-entered the inn from two nights ago. Behind the counter was Poppy. "Welcome back," she greeted. "Another night?"

"Yes please," Pearl grunted, letting her backpack fall to the ground, a potato falling out and landing on the ground with a thud. It was times like these that she wished she still had llamas to do the brunt of the carrying.

"Is that a potato?" Poppy asked, mouth agape.

"Uh, yeah?"

"It's humongous!" She exclaimed, walking out from behind the desk and leaning down to pick up the potato. "Are you selling these?"

"Of course. How many do you want? I haven't decided on a price yet," Pearl added in, opening her backpack to show Poppy the amount of potatoes she had piled inside.

"I'll take five." Poppy pulled out a change purse and pulled out a diamond. "I know you guys usually trade in emeralds but I've only got diamonds on me. Would that be okay?"

Pearl's eyes widened at the shiny blue gem in Poppy's hand. "More than enough!" Pearl gave Poppy five potatoes and then an extra three. "I hope they taste good. But you should put that diamond in the cash since I'm staying the night." It pained Pearl to see the diamond that she would have earned from being a wandering trader without any kind of emerald-diamond exchange be transferred away so quickly.

The next morning as Pearl was about to head back along the river, villagers began coming up to her, asking her for her potatoes. Poppy must have told some people because the word was out that Pearl was selling potatoes "larger than a head."

While that wasn't exactly true, no one seemed bothered that none of the potatoes were that large. They still oohed and ahhed over them.

Pearl ran out of potatoes quickly and she promised that she'd be back in two days with more.

When Pearl reached the second village, backpack full of more potatoes from taking a pit stop at Helianthia's (all the potatoes fully grown once again—even the area Pearl had harvested), the potatoes were bought just as quickly. Including the dye she had promised.

Pearl went to bed that night in a mid-tier room. As a treat. She still had plenty of emeralds left over. Her luck was finally turning up.

And so, Pearl got into the routine of travelling between the two villages, stopping in at the sunflower field at the halfway point to harvest potatoes. Helianthia watched over her as she gathered and re-planted. Whenever the sunflower at her altar wilted away into a brown stem, Pearl made sure to place another one down. She couldn't just be taking from the land without giving offerings to the local goddess of crops.

Her business became so good that she bought herself a donkey and cart so she could carry more of her potatoes and could travel quicker along the river. She also bought herself a green cloak lined with gold that reminded her of that copper-selling trader she had met when she was still just an underpaid miner.

It was only after a week or so that Pearl was at Helianthia's and sized up the other empty farmland. The potatoes were only taking up about a quarter or so. She could fit a lot more crops around the area if she really wanted to.

So, when Pearl travelled back to the village up the river, she bought herself some carrots, beetroots, and melon and pumpkin seeds. It turned out people did accept emeralds as a form of currency. You just had to be wearing nice clothing. She planted them all the next afternoon and, feeling like she had some money to spare, laid a couple of emeralds on Helianthia's altar instead of the usual sunflower.

The next day, as Pearl ducked under the rock arch, all the crops were fully grown. The pumpkins and melons were actually the size of heads. Pearl bought a larger cart for her donkey.

The day after that, the cart completely empty and Pearl just starting to lift pumpkins into the cart, a breathless voice called out. "You there! You in the green! Stop what you are doing at once. You are trespassing on Pixandrian soil!"

Startled, Pearl turned around to see a short man in beige clothes rushing up to her, finger pointed.

"Pixandria?" Pearl said, nose crinkled. "That old desert empire? I'm hardly in the desert." Over the time she spent at Helianthia's, the area was becoming less like barren land and more like a perfect farmland with incredibly fertile soil.

"The great desert empire, thank you very much!" The man snapped. "I am here on behalf of the King to bring you to Pixandria. You are in much trouble, young lady. Not everybody is wanted by King Pixlriffs himself."

"I'm wanted by the King?" Pearl repeated, flabbergasted. "How was I supposed to know he owned this? It just looked like a forgotten plot of land to me!"

The man clicked his tongue and shook his head. "No excuses. I am to take you to Pixandria."

"What if I refuse?"

"Refuse the King?" The man said and then let out a laugh. He suddenly stopped and looked Pearl dead in the eye. "I would have to take you by force and bind your arms and legs together."

Pearl sighed, rubbing her temples. "Fine. I guess I'm going with you. Just let me tie up my donkey here so he doesn't wander away or get stolen." How much money would she be losing by making the trip up to Pixandria and back? What if the King banned her from being at Helianthia's?

Pearl's heart began to race as her mind spiralled out of control. This place was like her home. Pearl could get a new job if the King didn't want her using his land for profit, but if she was banned completely?

Sinking into the plush carriage the man had brought along with two horses and a coachman, Pearl decided she'd fight against the king if he decided to keep her away from Helianthia's. Pearl wouldn't allow it. The King of Pixandria wasn't her king. He should have put a sign on the land that it belonged to him if he actually owned it!

On the trip to the desert, the man introduced himself as Auraq, one of the King's messengers.

They spent nearly three days travelling in the carriage and, through it all, Auraq told Pearl his entire life story. She knew he descended from the very first family of Pixandria, every single inch of his childhood home, where he was educated and the bully who constantly taunted him for his height, who he was married to and how they met, how many children he had and who they were married to and dating, and how King Pixlriffs offered the messenger job to him since his family was so important to Pixandrian history.

Pearl sarcastically told him he could write an autobiography to which Auraq pulled out a massive pile of paper from beneath the carriage seats and told her he was already working on it.

And that was how Pearl ended up with Auraq's manuscript on her lap, pretending to read everything she had already been told. At least it made Auraq quiet.

On the morning of the third day, Pearl noticed the green land getting noticeably less green. Five minutes later, it was as if they had been travelling through the desert for weeks.

Only at the halfway point of Auraq's autobiography, Pearl pushed the papers off of her lap. "My eyes need a break," she told Auraq. She didn't tell him that she could see the outline of a massive mountain in the distance that she assumed was Pixandria. She didn't know much about the old kingdom. She couldn't say that she wasn't curious.

"Oh! Look at that, we're here already!" Auraq said, his back straightening. "It felt like any old day's journey.

Pearl pursed her lips, already running through the possible consequences and what she'd say to each of them. She had heard of previous monarchs and their torture methods—being dropped upon pointed dripstone, being forced to bathe in lava, being buried alive…

"Welcome…to Pixandria!" Auraq exclaimed, gesturing outside of the carriage where villagers dressed in a similar style to Auraq were going about their day.

"Straight ahead, the Pixandrian royal palace!" Auraq said.

Pearl's eyes widened at the massive sandstone palace drawing closer. It was made up of three square buildings, the largest one in the middle. Copper accented the walls and, behind the palace, was the Anthill. It towered over everything in the empire and the villagers, looking like ants compared to the massive mountain, peppered the slopes as they travelled in and out of it. Pearl almost forgot to be scared.

"Stay there," Auraq said as the carriage came to a stop. He jumped out and rushed into the palace where he stayed for a good ten minutes before returning. Auraq opened the carriage door and offered Pearl a hand. "King Pixlfiffs will see you now. He's just inside the palace, waiting for you."

Pearl exited the carriage through the opposite door, trying to hide her nervousness. Auraq climbed back into the carriage and the coachman drove off, leaving Pearl all alone in the front of the looming palace.

Taking a deep breath, Pearl walked through the massive sandstone arch and focused her attention to the huge pillars leading to…Pearl's gaze moved forward where she saw the back of a man, looking out over a balcony.

Pearl cleared her throat.

King Pixlriffs turned around at the noise. He was wearing a beige coloured coat lined with the metallic orange of copper. Were those gold buttons? Atop his head sat a copper crown, intricately designed. And his face…he looked almost familiar…

And then it clicked. "You!" Pearl exclaimed, rushing up to him. "You were that wandering trader I met when I was still working at the diamond mines! I became one because of you. No wonder you seemed like a successful wandering trader! You had a whole empire to come home to! What? You like pretending to be some humble trader, roughing it in the real world?"

King Pixlriffs offered him her hand. "Pixlriffs. But you can call me Pix. I'm quite flattered that I inspired you to become a wandering trader. It was my old job before I was chosen to be King. A wonderful job that allows one to see the world!" He sighed, his eyes far off.

Pearl didn't shake his hand. "What do you mean chosen?"

"Every time a Pixandrian is born, we light a candle, signalling their birth. When the current monarch dies, the gods extinguish all Life Candles in mourning. The next day, they light a single candle, indicating the next monarch. The day after that, everyone else's candle is re-lit. My candle was chosen after Queen Kyri passed."

Pixlriffs didn't talk like he was angry at Pearl and planning anything. But what did Pearl know? "Stop tiptoeing around the topic. Listen, I get that I'm in trouble because I was trespassing or whatever. I'll pay the fine and stuff." Pearl paused, a thought dawning on her. "Wait a second, can I buy the land off of you?" It would certainly take awhile to pay off the debt, but the idea of actually owning the land thrilled her.

"In trouble? Who said anything about that?"

"Auraq said—"

"Ah," Pixlriffs said with an amused chuckle. "He has quite the imagination, that one. But no, you are not in trouble. I just told him to find the person tending to that plot of land and bring them here. He was confused, rightly so, and I explained a little further that I owned the plot of land and wanted to see who was there. He must've assumed that I was angry. I'm nothing of the sort."

Pearl breathed out a sigh of relief, like a huge weight had been lifted. But she was still confused. "Okay. So you aren't angry. Then why did you call on me?"

"Follow me," Pixlriffs said, exiting through the door Pearl had just come through. "I'd like to show you something."

Pearl trailed behind as Pixlriffs walked through the narrow streets of Pixandria until they crossed a bridge over water filled with sea turtles and axolotls. At the end of the bridge stood two palace guards who nodded at their King before letting the two of them through huge copper gates.

Pearl glanced into one of the buildings that was filled with bees and redstone contraptions.

"The industrial district," Pixlriffs explained.

"With gates and guards?"

"Everything's automatic and doesn't need workers. This is more of a space for me to work on things. It also keeps the noise pollution away from the residential area."

The brick path widened out to a clearing with a towering monument, resembling a fountain. Coloured candles and lanterns surrounded it. The whole thing seemed to pulsate with life—as if it were alive.

"The Vigil," Pixlriffs said, drawing nearer. "The overlooker of all empires. Each time an empire is formed, a new Central Candle is created," he gestured to copper candle holders in the main circle. Pearl counted six, each candle a different colour with circular gold leaf patterns dotting the wax.

"Each time a monarch dies, an extra candle is created and lit and surrounds its Central Candle. One lantern signifies twelve deaths and, when an empire falls, their Central Candle and death count candles and lanterns vanish with it."

Pearl walked around the Vigil, reading carved name plates near their corresponding Central Candle.

The cream coloured candle. Pixandria.

The magenta candle. Mezalea.

The light blue candle. The Ocean Empire.

The lime candle. The Lost Empire.

The cyan candle. Rivendell.

Pearl stopped at the orange candle, the nameplate completely blank. "What's this empire?" She asked, looking up at Pixlriffs who was staring up at the top of the Vigil.

"Yours," Pixlriffs said simply.

Pearl wasn't sure she had heard correctly. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

Pixlriffs nodded. "This new candle is the exact same colour as an old fallen empire, Gilded Homestead. Queen Sonika, ruler of Pixandria centuries ago, left archaic notes about Gilded Homestead's orange candle and the last woman who ever lived there who, in order to preserve the land for who she described as 'the connected one', sold the land to Queen Sonika to be left untouched. And, up until now, all Pixandrian rulers have been keeping a watchful eye on the Vigil for a similar orange candle to appear. And, just a week ago, one did show up."

"So…let me get this straight. An old Pixandrian ruler wrote down that an old empire sold its land to you, waiting for 'the connected one'. And, because an orange candle appeared at the Vigil, you assume that I am 'the connected one'. What does that even mean?"

"No assumptions made here," Pixlriffs said with a shake of his head. "Central Candles never have the same colour twice unless it is for a specific reason, like rulers of old empires moving away and setting up a new empire elsewhere." His eyes drifted to the light blue candle of the Ocean Empire.

"So I'm the heir of whoever Queen Sonika met all those years ago?"

"Not necessarily. You are 'the connected one'. Tell me, your plot of land, what did it look like before you arrived?" Pixlriffs asked, focussing his attention back on Pearl. "If you truly are 'the connected one' then the land most likely grows as you do."

"The land was completely dead and barren," Pearl said, some realization dawning on her before a huge flaw came to mind. "Wait. It was dead. That makes no sense. I'm alive now—have been for twenty-five years—shouldn't it have been alive?"

Pixlriffs thought for a second. "You said you worked in the mines? Did you work through the day or through the night? And how long did you work there?"

"Uh, since I was eighteen and during the day," Pearl replied skeptically, but she could see where Pixlriffs was going.

"Well that's seven years with very little sunlight. You managed to survive off of it, but the plants and such on that plot of land, not so much. Then, when you decided to become a wandering trader, there wasn't much to be grown until you began tending to the area."

Pearl could hardly wrap her head around this. "Okay. So. I'm 'the connected one'. What does that even mean?" She couldn't believe that planting a single potato could lead to something like this.

"It means you are now a ruler of an empire. I know it's a lot, and it is completely understandable if you do not want to take up the position. But, if you wish to start a new empire on the land of an old one, I will help you move any kind of relatives to the area and become your first trading partner."

"I…my parents died when I was young. It's just me," Pearl said softly, staring at the orange candle on the Vigil.

"I'm sorry."

Pearl shrugged, rubbing her hand over the blank nameplate. "I do like that plot of land." She thought back to Helianthia and the idea of having a permanent home somewhere that beautiful. Already, she could picture buildings she could place around the area. "How much will it cost?"

"Nothing. It was always in the contract that Pixandria would give all the money that Gilded Homestead gave to us back to whoever 'the connected one' was in full. And, well, because of inflation, let's just say you have a great start on your new empire." He paused with a smile before his spine straightened. "Oh! I nearly forgot." He pulled out a golden sunflower scepter that had been leaning up against a nearby building. "I believe this belongs to you. It has been in Pixandria's possession from the trade with Gilded Homestead."

Pearl slowly took the scepter from Pixlriff's hand. She instantly knew that this would fit into Helianthia's hand. The missing piece in the shrine. "Do I have to use the same name 'Gilded Homestead' for my new empire?"

"Of course not. We left the nameplate blank for this very reason."

"I think I'll keep a part of the old name but I'd like to just modify it a little. How about Gilded Helianthia?" It rolled off of Pearl's tongue like it was meant to be.

"Perfect," Pixlriffs clapped his hands together. "Queen PearlescentMoon of Gilded Helianthia."

Pearl was so distracted by the possibilities of being a Queen that she didn't bother to ask Pixlriffs how he knew her name.

Three days later, carrying the most money Pearl had ever seen in her purse, she ducked under the rock arch to Gilded Helianthia. Instantly, she was met with her donkey and carriage she had left behind before Auraq swept her away to Pixandria.

Pearl walked through the crops and she glanced around at the trees and terrain surrounding her little farmland. Over there, in the back left, she could build a house. A house. When was the last time she had had an actual place to call home? And over there! She could build a barn! And there she could expand the farmland!

Pearl finally stopped in front of Helianthia's shrine—where it all started. Pearl glanced at the sunflower scepter in her hand before carefully placing it into Helianthia's stony grasp. Where it belonged.

Finally, Helianthia's shrine looked complete.

Pearl gripped onto the scepter once it was firmly in place, her own fist just above Helianthia's. They had a lot of work to do. Pearl was ready for whatever happened next.

#empires smp #empires smp fanfic #empires smp fanfiction #pearlescentmoon #pixlriffs

[harpygon]

I posted 3,684 times in 2022

That's 3,479 more posts than 2021!

1,163 posts created (32%)

2,521 posts reblogged (68%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@blazevillains

@calli0p3

@osmpalliumduo

@pips-squeak

@plooshai

I tagged 2,105 of my posts in 2022

Only 43% of my posts had no tags

#art &lt;3 - 363 posts

#liveblog - 179 posts

#empires smp - 116 posts

#harpy talks with the mutuals - 56 posts

#hermitcraft - 47 posts

#double life smp - 43 posts

#save - 33 posts

#harpy talks about writing - 33 posts

#alsmp - 31 posts

#everyone look at and reblog my mutuals art please - 31 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#it’s silly but i don‘t want to because then my father can see that i watched it because of the sky receiver and i watch the show on sky go

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I like to believe that Pixandria has a Base 12 number system.

For those who don't know, a Base 12 number system means that you have twelve numbers before the numbers become two digits long.

I got the idea because of Pixl' s candle monument. Because after twelve candles he puts a lantern.

So maybe, the citizens of Pixandria have a Base 12 number system. Before they started to become more exposed to common (which has a regular Base 10 number system) they used it exclusively, both for their official trading and their personal matters but now it's mostly used for tradition/religion related stuff.

Like mourning candles...

76 notes - Posted January 13, 2022

#4

Honey always held a certain importance for Pixandria.

It‘s non perishable. It can be stored for as long as need be, meaning that when the droughts ruined this seasons crop, or when sand storms interfered with any plans to go fishing, they at least had something to keep them from starving. A little sweetness to help in their ruin.

If your live wasn‘t currently intercepted by natural disaster, having honey meant that you could bake honey cakes. Soft, dense, sweet cakes that filled you up enough to go on with your day. Everyone has their own „special“ recipes. Some add Poppy Seeds, others the sweet flesh of a cactus fruit, but the base recipe barely changes from household to household. It‘s the most eaten treat they have. It‘s their national dish and the Pixandrians hold pride in it. Because it shows how they have made something out of nothing, how they have made the uninhabitable dessert their home and the sickenly sweet honey and boring bread into an amazing sweet.

Of course, the honey itself made a great sweet if eaten with fruit or cooked down to candy. These sweets had none of the balance of their honey cakes, but they were sweet and both young and old enjoyed it.

Honey was synonymous with safety, with community and pride and the citizens of Pixandria cherished it.

82 notes - Posted January 13, 2022

#3

Also reminder for the first time watchers: Take the trigger warnings for the inbetween cut scenes (if there are some) serious. It's not a joke.

Look after yourself. It's okay to stop watching, you will be able to find multiple recaps of the events on Twitter.

182 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

#2

Wake up babe, new Empires lore just dropped. There is a demon school system. and Scott didn‘t come to Xornoth‘s graduation apparently.

193 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Soon, Tommy will write a cover of „Jubilee line“ in which he just describes all the illnesses he has gotten while living in Brighton. But instead of sad, its going to be hyper-pop.

823 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I can’t believe that my longest tag is the one where I complain about wantig to watch game of thrones… #long post

[empiressmpheadcanons]

Pixandria headcanons because I'm a pixandrian at heart and I miss my king being on empires </3

There are typically 4 careers one chooses when going into apprenticeships; Coppersmiths, Beekeepers, Merchandise Traders, and Vigil Keepers.

Coppersmiths are those that take Pixandria's copper and turn it into tools and trinkets. They also work with iron and diamond and other metals, but since it's Pixandria, they mainly use copper. It's not uncommon to see them with burn marks from dropping hot copper on themselves, or tan lines where their goggles normally sit since they and their apprentices work so long.

Beekeepers all have their own apiaries and routines for gathering honey and honeycomb. They're pretty niche immune to bee stings by the time they're masters, and think of themselves as bees with how deeply they understand their bees. They talk about their bees like proud parents talk about children. There are arguments over whose bees are better. There are also arguments over whose apprentices are better. Beekeepers are very passionate.

Being a Trader is the most flexible job one can undertake, although you have to be good with numbers and be able to keep an eye on everything you're selling. You have the choice to set up shop in Pixandria's town square and let travelers come to you, or pack up your things and see all the empires and set up shop in their town squares. Traders also take on apprentices, but they have to be willing to keep up and move around and pull long hours to keep stock secure. It's touted as the hardest job in Pixandria.

Vigil Keepers are those that live on the other side of the bridge and keep watch over The Vigil. They watch and care for each candle and each lantern, and are the first to know if another candle or lantern needs to be added. Theyre quite solemn and focused on their work, so its pretty common for them to turn down party invitations in favor of watching The Vigil. Their apprentices are chosen by themselves, as only they can see the qualities they're looking for in a Vigil Keeper. It's the most closed off and elite profession, and the Vigil Keepers are as highly revered as the King himself.

Coppersmiths, Beekeepers, and Traders all have an obligation to give half of their monthly product to The Industry, so it can be held in the Storage System for later use. Top operators in these fields also go to work in The Industry, in King Pixlriffs' own copper, honey, and storage areas.

The coppersmiths love calling the Industrial copper farm David (which they learned from King Pix) so whenever they want to cancel any plans they just say "I can't, i gotta go to David's house"

tag yourself id be a coppersmith

#pixandria #empires smp #rarewubbox #personal favs #headcanon

[weareallstardustfallen]

Rating: G Word Count: 1181 Relationships: Pixlriffs & fWhip Characters: Pixlriffs, fWhip Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Empires SMP Setting, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Folklore & Religion

Pixl’s hands were shaking.

It was hardly unusual, nowadays. They’d been trembling near-constantly since the dragon, he thought, though it might have been earlier. He couldn’t really remember, now.

He tried to cast a spark onto the candlewick, but he fumbled it once, twice. He couldn’t seem to get his hands to cooperate, no matter how much he tried.

Or: Pixl does not go back to the Vigil alone, and Fwhip has never heard Pixandrian stories before.

#pixlriffs #fwhip #empires smp #mcyt #rain chatter

[mayeetjim]

hey bestie i need the list of all the teas and empires for like. no real reason <3

Here's what I have so far

The Grimmlands has black tea, usually it's very bitter unless you add honey from Pixandria. Sometimes they will do the "infused" thing some people do with redstone, but only those who accept the corruption tend to do this.

The ocean empire definitely has more fruity teas, and they like to use boba, as it won't get everywhere under water. So instead of the popping boba in your tea, the tea is the popping things

Pixandrian tea is something akin to prickly pear juice with honey. it's sweet, but many like to dull the sweetness with fresh leaves from the native lush patches. It is a very common drink to contrast with the never ending diet of honey, and it is not uncommon to find those who refuse to drink other twas without adding a few stray bits of sand that always manages to work it's way in.

Mythlands tea is always a blood red, created by the flowers that grow there that are used for flavouring. It creates a savoury flavour, almost like a dragonfruit . It is usually served room temp, due to it being the most flavourful temperature.

Rivendell prides itself on its odd way of serving tea, hot with ice or snow within it. Typically a cyan from the local flowers, it tends to be bitter, but the ice is typically frozen water mixed with a sweet flower, the name of which the tea makers guard with an unmatched ferocity.

The cliffs always likes to serve tea to their guest, and the previous wizard had always had a cup before starting their day. Pulling the same "infusing" drinks thing the Grimmlands does, they use the local amythyst clusters to induce highest magical prowess, plus it just looks nice with the lavender purple tea. It also taste faintly of lavender and mint.

The Cod Empire uses similar bubble tea tactics as the ocean empire, but they use a special species of moss in order to create their film. It creates an edible slime that tastes of seaweed, and it highly contrasts with the very citrusy black tea that is inside of it.

I'm going to take a break here and make a new post and tag you when I finish it but I hope you like what I have so far

This is the only post that I actively encourage any cc to read and correct me if they have better ideas

#empires smp #pixandria #ocean empire #the cod empire #crystal cliffs #Grimmlands #mythland #Rivendell

[nho-jungle]

in the hope of open hands

by @weareallstardustfallen 

###

Fandom: Empires SMP

Rating: G

Warning(s): None

Key Tag(s): Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Religious Imagery and Symbolism

Word Count: 3,341

###

His knees ached from so long spent kneeling on the path. The candle in front of him had been burning for a long, long time, leaving it just a stub of wax finally nearing its end, and the fact that he hadn’t moved could mean only one thing, only one message to every Pixandrian who saw him.

To burn a candle out to nothing meant that a life had been lost forever, given back to the world, or perhaps stolen from it. To bear witness to its burning, without rest or words, meant the blood was on his hands, the blade his, the blame his.

Or: Pixl's exile, as a religious man.

###

submitted by @icxrusat as his favourite fic he’s read!!! i rlly enjoyed this one too, loved the vigil lore.

#mcyt #empires smp #empires smp fic #fr exchange 2022

[ghostflowers201x]

Hello! Welcome to our alterhuman sideblog! More info under the cut! ♡

Notes: 1. We will not list every detail about us individually, if you'd like to get to know us better, talk to us! 2. Not all of us will give intros, esp not right off the bat, so if someone not listed starts posting, or we add people, don't be shocked. 3. Absolutely no syscourse here, this is meant to be a no stress safe space, both for us and our followers.

----------------------------------------

-Collectively-

As stated in our bio, we go by Ghost, and it/its pronouns collectively!

-people that will likely be posting here-

Chara // it/its, they/them // undertale fictive

Fawn // he/it/any interchangeably // Gorilla and deer therian, chara (ut) and pearl (su) fictionkin, Max Caulfield in some way?

Elizabelle // she/her // Fae/fairy kin, esmp1 Katherine fictionkin

Starlight // she/her star/stars // Shubble from many sources and sayori (ddlc) mixtive, ghostbur fictionkin

Ender // they/he/she // Enderman, cranboo fictive

Pink // she/her, any // pink diamond fictive, questioning Amy Rose (sth) fictionkin

Myth // he/him // esmp Sausage fictive

Jimmy // he/him // esmp Jimmy fictive, merfolk

Junior // he/him // Bowser jr fictive

- Other identities that we either mostly share, or the person identifying as such doesn't want their name attached-

Ghost kin

Bunny/rabbit

The Marionette (fnaf)

Ragdoll tortieshell house cat

Pearl (double life)

Toy Bonnie (fnaf)

-Figuring it out, we know at least one of us identifies with some of these, but don't know who yet-

Sniff (rats smp)

Bad (savior, the red banquet reprise)

Petunia Mollar (Smile For Me)

Ballora (fnaf)

Glamrock Chica (fnaf)

Vanny (fnaf)

Turret (portal)

Ponyo (ponyo)

A non-cannon, pixandrian citizen (empiressmp s1)

Lancer (deltarune)

Dr. Coomer (hlvrai)

----------------------------------------

Will be updated!

List of tags here!

#pinned #last update: july 28th 2023

[magicalmanhattanproject]

Anon who asked about the Pixandrian stuff earlier: wow you've really put a lot of thought into this haven't you? This is fascinating! I'm particularly interested in what you said about the role of the vigil in the journey of the soul. If you have time I'd love to hear a more detailed description of the Pixandrian view of life and death. Also does only the copper king attend the vigil or is he just the overseer? Do villages have their own mini vigils? How are names of the deceased recorded?

So, the easiest way to explain how Pixandrians view life and death and a great many other things is with the Ship of Theseus. After Theseus dies, his ship is replaced piece by piece. At what point is the vessel, which has no original parts remaining, no longer the Ship of Theseus? The Pixandrian answer is that as long as it's understood to be the Ship of Theseus, that's what it is.

But let's say that one of the planks of the Ship of Theseus is removed and sold to a furniture maker, who uses it as the leg of a table. According to Pixandrians, the table is also the Ship of Theseus as it contains the parts of the Ship of Theseus. The wood splinters coming off the lathe are the Ship of Theseus too. Over time, the Ship of Theseusness is dispersed and diluted to the point of unrecognizability, but it's still there in the world, as long as someone cares enough to track down the individual parts of it.

And that as long as someone cares part is particularly important. The Ship of Some Rando is going to fall apart into tables and grain sacks and detritus on the riverbeds much faster because not as many people care to keep track of it.

Thus, for Pixandrian mourners, it's a great comfort to know that there is someone keeping track of where their loved ones go and what their loved ones become after their bodies die.

As for the Vigil, there would definitely be other priests or attendants of some sort. Even if they don't necessarily have a ceremonial role, there is just a lot of on the ground work that needs to be done to keep the spiritual center of an entire nation running. At the very least, they would have on-site candle and lantern makers and some cleaners. In fact, the Copper King would probably do very little overseeing of the Vigil. There's likely someone else whose job is to keep the Vigil running and Pix just shows up for important ceremonies.

Villages have smaller altars for individual families plus one in a public place for outsiders or foreigners or those not attached to a family who still need to be cared for. Plain candles would be lit for each person to be remembered, while the proper death candles would be brought to the Vigil in batches whenever someone in a village has reason to travel to the capital.

The death candles themselves are how deaths are recorded for ceremonial purposes. Names are carved into the wax. When a candle melts down to the point that the name is no longer legible, the remainder of the wick is gathered with eleven others to light a lantern. When the lanterns burn out or drift away or are otherwise destroyed, the grieving process is considered finished. Permanent records for like censuses and such are written in ink on paper for governmental purposes or carved into stones if you want to permanently memorialize a loved one or something.

Fun fact: the Pixandrian alphabet – called Runog – has an accent mark called a fulvos that only appears on death candles. It's used to clarify pronunciation of foreign names that don't fit Pixandrian's vowel harmony pattern.

#pixandrian tag

[darubyprincx]

"what about pixl's name? why is he called that?" actually i genuinely have no idea about pixl's backstory in ashes before his adult years when he became king. all i know for sure is that he's an only child and that he was incredibly withdrawn and quiet in his younger years as well. actually i'm not entirely convinced he didn't just spawn in the middle of the desert one day at 24 years old

#ray's tag #ashes au #i'll get it figured out eventually. anyways pixlriffs is a name of pixandrian origin. havent figured out the etymology yet

[magicalmanhattanproject]

what, if any, are some common treasured items or heirlooms in pixandria? btw your stuff is what set me to start writing my own fantasy setting for D&D (and like games) so a million billion thank yous for that!! and sorry if this is answered elsewhere! I'm just a sucker for Things People Like lore

Anything made out of copper, first of all. One of the most valuable items in any Pixandrian house is the matra, a device used to purify water. I still need to do some research on ancient water purification methods to describe it in more detail, but finding out that copper was used for that was pretty pog.

A common treasure that’s somewhat less vital survival are shámmúgóñó, long strings of beads worn common as necklaces or around the waist. In Pixandria, the word gón refers to any kind of bead – glass, clay, and imported shells or pearls are all common materials – but many outside of Pixandria will describe góñó as specifically the beads made out of the bones of deceased family members or lovers. Pixandrians refer to bone beads as truskóñó, though they draw no special attention to them and the bones are as brightly and cheerfully colored as any other beads they wear. These are passed on through families and lengthened with each passing generation until they become too damaged to wear anymore. 

Also of note: Pixandrian don’t inherit titles or authority from parents but only through lines of training and mastery. That being said, parents are often also the mentors of their children.

#pixandrian tag

[magicalmanhattanproject]

I don't know if you are still into the Pixandrian conlang stuff but I find it so fascinating! I'm very impressed by your skill and how natural and real you've made Pixandria. If you are willing to talk about it more, what's the kinship system in Pixandria? What's it's relationship with other Empires (particularly interested in it's relationship to the ocean empire) Is copper special to them or is it just a common resource? And what is the role of the vigil keeper in their society?

So, I haven't figured out the kinship system yet. I need to do some more research into different inheritance systems and how and why they develop before I can say anything solid. For example, nomadic pastoralists often split the inheritance up equally between all heirs. This makes sense because a large herd of sheep that's split into several smaller herds can become several large herds within just a few years of careful management, thus leaving each heir with plenty to live off of. This doesn't work as well for agricultural societies though because a plot of land can only get so small before it can no longer support a family, so agricultural societies are more likely to leave the majority of their inheritance to a single heir.

I don't know enough about Pixandrian food production to be able to give solid answers about how they would sustain and expand it to cover multiple generations.

That does lead nicely into relationships with other empires though. My Pixandria has a much stronger relationship with Helianthia than in canon. Helianthia is a food exporter and while all cities are food importers, Pixandria as a whole is more reliant on Helianthian grain than a lot of other empires.

Pixandria's relationship with the Ocean Empire is also strong and extremely ancient. The two have been allies for as far back as can be remembered. In fact, the Ocean Queen learned a great deal about her own culture and heritage from Pixandrian records of it, although she's reasonably sure some of the things in Pixandrian records are lies that her sea monster parent told because it would be very funny. Pixandria imports fish and salt from the Ocean Empire and exports artisanal goods such as pottery, ceramics, and metalwork since the Ocean Empire obviously struggles to produce anything that needs to be fired. There's a lot of other trades, but those are the two where they're most reliant on each other.

Copper is special to Pixandrians. The reasons for this are not something freely discussed with outsiders, but it is also one of their primary exports and used in a variety of machines and technologies.

The Copper King, who keeps the Vigil, acts as a high priest for religious ceremonies. The Vigil allows the souls of the dead to pass to the afterlife and reconstituted with some memory of what they were before. Pixandrians do not believe death to be an ending, but part of a process of life constantly unmaking and shuffling and remaking itself. A soul not accounted for by the Vigil would be broken down so completely as to erase any memory of itself.

Most of the day to day duties to the Vigil involve writing the names of the dead on candles and floating lanterns to help souls pass on as well as visiting people on their deathbeds whenever possible and performing funeral services.

#pixandrian tag #pixandria

[magicalmanhattanproject]

Are there any kinds of gender roles or gender divides in Pixandria?

What is the greatest social divide(such as classism or ableism)?

Ancient Pixandria had very strict gender roles and divides, but they started to fall apart during the Seven Wandering Generations. At some point in history after the settlement of the Anthill, there was an official language reform as ordered by the Copper King which ended the practice of formally gendering names. That didn't get rid of sexism immediately, but it has strongly diminished since then.

Class is one of the most impactful social divides in any culture, but Pixandrian hospitality customs like the tokar do go some way towards mitigating the risk of people starving due to poverty at least. That being said, there are strong cultural pressures towards ideals of hard work and diligence which put a strain on anyone who can't live up to them, so ableism is A Thing What Exists for sure.

Racism is also a factor, particularly against the Westlander peoples, who are viewed as nothing more than savage pillagers. There are some exceptions – at least one Pixandrian king has taken a Westlander lover – but relations are strained at best.

#pixandrian tag