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brooklynislandgirl · 9 months

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RULES. repost, don’t reblog

TAGGED. @lokitheliesmith {{mahalo! my dearest}}

TAGGING. Be Fae, steal memes

BASICS.

FULL NAME. Elizabeth Irene Riley (birth certificate: Elikapeka Ailine Alohaekaunei kahanuola'Ilikea'wahine Riley )

NICKNAME. Beth

BIRTHDAY. 28 June

ETHNIC GROUP. Pacific Islander {Rokea Kinfolk}

NATIONALITY. American {{Sovereign Kingdom of Hawai’i}}

LANGUAGE. Beth is fluent in: Hawai’ian Pidgin {her language of choice}, English, Latin. She’s conversational in: Japanese, Russian, Italian, French, Mandarin and Cantonese. She can speak some: (modern) Greek, occasional Spanish, Romanian, some Gaelic. She made a point of learning Kikongo, Masalit, and Beria (the first a language of the Democratic Republic of Congo, the later two spoken in Darfur, where she spent time serving with Médecins Sans Frontières {Doctors without Borders}

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Demi-sexual, quoiromantic {{your guess is as good as hers}}

RELATIONSHIP STATUS. n/a

CLASS. 1% Wealthy/Upper class, {{Ali’i class}}

HOME TOWN / AREA. Honolulu, O’ahu, Hawai’i

CURRENT HOME. Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, New York

PROFESSION. ER Nurse, technically has an MD but dropped out during her residency.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR. Rich dark brown, shoulder length-to mid back. Thick, soft, professionally styled.

EYES. Green/brown hazel {heterochromia}, naturally thick lashes.

NOSE. Small, straight. crinkles at the corners of her eyes when she genuinely smiles

FACE. Delicate features, high cheek bones, wide eyes, clearly bi-racial

LIPS. Soft, full lower lip, perfectly shaped upper cupid’s bow.

COMPLEXION. Tawny brown/olive tone, a “warm” autumn, with red and yellow tints to skin and hair. Beth, being half Irish and half Polynesian falls under “ambiguously ethnic” and depending on style choices and sun exposure can range from almost a light complexion to deeply tan.

BLEMISHES. She has a fine little series of freckles around her mouth and across the bridge of her nose. Someone would have to look close to even notice them. There are the occasional freckles on her shoulders and down her back, as well.

SCARS. Shark Bite from just above her ankle, to just below of her knee of her left leg. The scar is deep, the muscle within appears atrophied, and a good portion was torn away. The surgery to repair it left her left leg fractions shorter than her right, and when she’s on her feet for too long, she often displays a limp. When she has to make public appearances, or goes to the beach, she will hide it with a minor illusion.

TATTOOS. She has a turtle tattoo whose shell is filled in with the Hawai’ian archipelago and a hibiscus on her left back hip. She has a Tree of Life tattoo just below her neck and between her shoulder blades. She has a three-stud sub-dermal piercing along the inside of her right hip.

BUILD. Beth barely stands five feet tall, and tends to weigh between 90 and 96 pounds. If someone is being generous, she has been called petite, and slender. Beth sees herself as stunted and scrawny. She is perpetually underweight, despite her natural athleticism, and her curves are fairly modest, though she does have a rather lovely backside by western standards.

ALLERGIES. Bees, penicillin, latex, velvet.

USUAL HAIR STYLE. Beth hasn’t worn her hair naturally in years, but often wears it up in braids, buns, or pony-tails for work reasons.

USUAL CLOTHING. She spends a majority of her time in scrubs. She often wears business suits, or couture gowns for charitable efforts, but is most comfortable wearing as little as possible: bikinis/sleeveless blouses, long flowing skirts.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR. The Dark. Heights. {{Being abandon/rejection/being alone}}

ASPIRATION. n/a

POSITIVE TRAITS. Beth is kind, caring, soft, compassionate, loving, understanding, charitable. She is highly intelligent, a talented witch, a staunch champion of others. She will go above and beyond for others, and will befriend literally anyone or anything.

NEGATIVE TRAITS. Shy, envious, deep-seated rage, self-sabotaging, self-critical to the point of hatred, exceptionally emotional. Easily feels slighted. Can be clingy, stubborn, or petulant.

VICE HABIT. Chronic insomniac, tends to drink wine to cover up feelings.

FAITH. Raised as a devout roman catholic. Has come to realise most gods are really just unfeeling bastards.

GHOSTS? She knows a few.

AFTERLIFE? Yes

REINCARNATION? Yes

ALIENS? She knows a few of these, too.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT. Beth abhors human politics.

ECONOMIC PREFERENCE. She could live happily with absolutely nothing but the earth beneath her feet and all her worldly possessions in a sea-bag. But that’s easy to say as one of the richest people on the planet.

SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION. She wishes people would quit ruining the world.

EDUCATION LEVEL. Master of Nursing Science. Medical Doctorate {Neurosurgery}. Highly talented Life/Blood witch, near professional surfer,

FAMILY.

FATHER. R. Admiral Brian C. Riley

MOTHER. Iwalani Kahanaui Stern {formerly Riley}

SIBLINGS. Andrew Riley- brother {deceased}, Jayden Morgan- hanai sister, William Manderly brother {unknown}

EXTENDED FAMILY. Drinks the Bitter Water - maternal grandfather, Anakone Kahananui - maternal uncle, Makaimakoa {Mike} Kahanui- maternal cousin, Tony DiNozzo- paternal cousin, Aislinn Riley- paternal aunt, Phil Coulson - hanai uncle, Loki Friggjarson, Hela Lokadottir- hanai daughter niece.

NAME MEANING. Elizabeth: God is my Oath, Irene: Peace, Alohaekaunei: Love alights here

HISTORICAL CONNECTION. n/a

FAVOURITES.

BOOKS. The Princess Bride but she reads everything

MOVIES. The Princess Bride and Tombstone

MUSIC. Everything but “Death metal”

DEITY. ...next question?

HOLIDAY. Mabon, the second harvest

MONTH. September

SEASON. Autumn/Winter

PLACE. Kalokoiki, on the North Shore, the Banzai pipeline.

WEATHER. rainy nights, dawn right before or after a storm when the waves are perfect.

SOUND. The sea, her brother’s singing

SCENT. lei flower {plumeria}, sandalwood, sea air

TASTE. li ming hui // honey // coffee // blood

FEEL. water // skin

ANIMAL. Cat, turtles, sharks

NUMBER. 3

COLOR. Purple

EXTRA.

TALENTS. Dancing, surfing, knitting, drawing

BAD AT. People. Hearing things in general. Cannot cook to save her life.

TURN ONS. Kindness. Intelligence. Someone who can challenge and engage her. Caresses along the small of her back, biting

TURN OFFS. Daddy-kinks, roses.

HOBBIES. Reading, surfing, hiking

TROPES. Manic Pixie Dream Witch // A Mistake is Born // Earth Mother // Granola Girl //

AESTHETICS. The sea, lava, blood, shy smiles, sharks.

FC INFO.

MAIN FC. Kristin Kreuk

ALT FC. This woman

OLDER FC. None

YOUNGER FC. Aubrey Anderson-Emmons

VOICE CLAIM. - Kristin Kreuk

#She's Talking to Angels {Bethisms}#{very verse specific}

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redotter · 10 months

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Soarers magic system - fairies

Nomenclature - approximate translation to existing englisch word, from romanian sânziene

Long range - couple of kilometers

High endurance - can use their powers for 12+ hours at a time

High versatility - most other soarers can project their powers through a fairy

Some sub-specialties:

Short range high detail - the fae (zână) is high resolution but can't get very far

Long range low detail - the fae can get very far but it usually looses the human form (at their base, all fae are just small light points)

Impersonation - create fae in the look of other people

Abnormal fae creation - get funky with the fae (make them monsters, for example)

Some extremes:

Abnormal sensory imitation - people can see and hear fae, but few fairies can make their fae have a smell, or even touch (they still aren't actually material though, it's all fake)

Some law limitations:

All human laws apply to fae (no stalking, entering in people's houses etc.)

Don't impersonate other people when it comes to professional or legal stuff

Don't create visually upsetting imagery in public (so like, don't have your fae's guts open up for funsies)

Some fairy characters:

Malvina di Dacia

Catinca Feier

#zbor: fairies #wip: soarers

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sailoryooons · 7 months

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Random ask, What’s your favourite supernatural creature?

OH MY GODDDD I LOVE THIS QUESTION!!! It is really hard to choose, but in general my forever favorite have to be the fae and the vampire. Both come from such rich history and folklore, I find it hard not to absolutely love the way that real history and folktales blend with both subjects.

One of my minors is history and the other is English lit, and the way specifically with faeries in Welsh and Celtic Folklore/historical books or vampires in Romanian folklore/actual history is so fascinating to me!

I also love the evolution of the vampire throughout history as well as it's interpretation by different cultures. Like some histories point to Ancient Egypt and the Goddess Sekhemt as the first known 'idea' of vampires. AHHH okay that was an obnoxious answer to a relatively easy question.

Other supernatural creatures I have a particular obsession with: dragons, cait sith, kitsune, shinigami and sirens.

#replies #literally i love this question i could tlak about this all day lmao

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metalheadsforblacklivesmatter · 1 year

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@esoomris He tagged her in a tweet bragging about his 33 cars and how much they pollute the environment. She tweeted back saying he has a small dick. He made a video about how she was brainwashed and he feels bad for her. In the video he's like "Pass me the pizza and make sure these boxes are NOT recycled." The Pizza company he ordered from was a Romanian company so the Romanian government recognized the boxes.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRb2q712/

And yeah. Pizza boxes aren't recyclable because of the grease. They are compostable, though. But do we really expect a guy bullying a 19 year old by bragging about how much he pollutes to know this?

-fae

#andrew tate #greta thunberg #recycling

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simpforsimeon · 2 years

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Hear me out!

Briar Valley being similar to Romania 🇷🇴 😳

LIKE LILIA IS A FUCKING BAT/VAMPIRE FAE (?? Is he though?? He acts so much like one-) AND MOST VAMPIRES ARE ASSOCIATED WITH ROMANIA

DOAMNE DUMNEZEULE- MALLEUS VORBIND ROMÂNĂ (GOD- MALLEUS SPEAKING ROMANIAN)

And I am romanian myself, and Diasomnia just gives Romania vibes

A little scenario to have a vague idea of it :

"Go fuck yourself, you horned asshole" - Leona

"Kingscholar, sincer, nici măcar nu știu de ce mai ești aici. Oh- stai, ești aici că nu ai absolvit până acum! Ai 20 de ani în numele celor Șapte, i-ați coada între picioare și du-te în toți dracii că nimănui nu îi pâsă ce crez tu." -Malleus

(Translation: "Kingscholar, honestly, I don't even know why you're here. Oh - wait, you're here because you haven't graduated yet! You are 20 years old in the name of the Seven, you would have your tail between your legs and go to hell because no one cares what you think.")

"What in the name of the Seven are you saying???" - Leona, confused as fuck

"Pfft- He practically told you to go to hell and have your tail between your legs, Leona" -Yuu who probably/actually understood what Malleus said

Și Sebek, care cel mai probabil ar începe să înjure alți elevi din NRC, în română și Yuu s-ar putea să știe ce zice Sebek, râzând de bieții elevi care nu înțeleg nimic din ce zice Sebek.

(Translation: And Sebek, he would probably start insulting other students from NRC, in romanian and Yuu might know what Sebek says, laughing at the poor students who don't understand anything Sebek says.)

Silver would definitely be taught by Lilia how to speak romanian (or briarian [or whatever you call the faes that lives in Briar Valley-])

And the famous romanian dish ✨ S A R M A L E D E L A B U N I C A✨

OH Lilia would definitely love țuică

The only dish that I feel like Lilia would actually know how to cook properly is ✨Piftie✨

Yuu would definitely send ✨💞 coliva💞✨ to Crowley as an early gift for his funeral

For some reason, people would confuse Silver and Yuu for faes cuz you know, they talk in romanian (briarian ?? )

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #yuu twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland malleus #romanian mc #romanian yuu #romania #twst lilia #twst leona #twst silver #twst sebek

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mother3-time · 2 years

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The slur in mother 3

SO!

BET YOU ARENT EXPECTING THIS

IT WAS A SURPRISE TO ME TOO

So, the problem with this, is that most people in America (and probably in Japan too) don’t actually know that this word is a slur.

So, I’m gonna say the word once, and then after that I’m gonna censor it.

I’m talking about the Magypsies.

As I’m sure you’re aware, the word is a pormanteau of the english words “magic” and “g*psy.” It’s a direct transliteration of the characters’ Japanese name マジプシー　[majipushii]. Amung the general population in the US, the word generally has positive connotations of free-spiritedness and mysticism, which is most likely what the Japanese developers were aiming for.

Unfortunately, in Eurpoe the word was used for many centuries as a derogatory slur towards an ethic group called the Romani. Romani people (NOT Romanians, that’s a separate group) are a traditionally nomadic group who currently live in a diaspora all over the world. Even though a significant proportion of Romani people live in the US, there is very little awareness of this language issue, mostly because (as I understand it) US culture doesn’t have the same racial attitudes towards Romani people that are common across Europe.

Which all this is to say, that even before we get into the issues of LGBT represention when it comes to the Mag*psies, there are already pretty damning problems with the characters (which is sad! because I love the characters!)

I don’t think any of this was malicious in any way, either with the original script of the game, or with Clyde Mandelin’s translation, but it still presents a problem with creating fanworks, at least for me.

So, in all my fics that I write, I WILL NOT be using the canon name for the characters. A couple of the stand-ins I’ve thought of are “Fae,” “Magpies” (what I misread the actual name as the first time I encountered them in the game), or “Okama” (a queer identity similar to “drag queens” that exists in Japanese culture and that the group is likely based off of).

(I’m not trying to tell anyone what to do, I’m just stating how IM going to treat these issues moving forward)

For anyone who’s curious about what I’ve said here, I’ve included llinks to information on the Romani people and their hisotry:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Romani_people

https://www.romarchive.eu/en/

https://www.nationalww2museum.org/war/articles/roma-european-culture

An article about queer identities in Japan:

https://www.tofugu.com/japan/lgbtq-identities/

And a brief thread about queer fans speaking on their opinions about the representation of the Mag*psies (which are pretty similar to my feelings, as a queer fan)

https://www.reddit.com/r/earthbound/comments/arw7tf/magypsies_and_lgbt_representation/

If I’ve said anything wrong, please feel free to correct me in the comments or replies. I’m not an expert on this issue, I just wanted to speak up

#mother3 #mother 3 #queer representation #romani #romani people #slur mention #g slur #マザー３ #im gonna use the full name in the tags here too so people can find it #magypsies

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gruzeburya · 1 year

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⊹ inspiration HEAVILY drawn from slavic folklore more specifically bulgarian myths surrounding the lamia and the retelling of saint george and the dragon . as well as some very loose influence taken from romanian scholomance folklore , the weather-making dragon ismeju specifically

within the confines of this au the fae are considered very very distant offspring of pagan gods across multiple pantheons although there are some exceptions, such as various minor gods even the aspects of some major gods are considered to be fae. they represent older powers enduring through they have shifted form significantly and even gained qualities of their own ( like the rule of truths and the power of names ━ though this is a principle that most gods still adhere to today ) the land beyond the veil is also know as the mirror realm, where the world seems to work backwards though it runs parallel to that of our own. there are no countries though there are borders to define sovereignties and courts.

zoya is technically an unseelie fae and is a direct descendant of a union between a LAMIA MONSTER and the sky god PERUN. her bloodline carries both divinity as well as the wicked nature of the great serpent. she is the daughter of the drakon knight juris who served under the former unseelie queen before he defected to create a court of his own. the ethereal court : is for fae with more infernal qualities and animalistic features ━ they are typically reptilian folk, with an affinity for weather enchantments though they will allow other kinds of fae to swear fealty once trust is earned. the court's name is no coincidence as the confines of the ethereal lands are sky-bound ━ the kingdom is nestled atop high mountain peaks and in the clouds themselves.

while not on the best terms with the other fae as a whole the court typically has the strategic advantage given its location. this is why it comes as shock when their king is found dead within the walls of the sky palace. struck down by poison delivered by a spy from the spring court at the command of their queen, elizaveta. it is revealed that elizaveta's prized general and fellow high fae had an affair with juris which was how zoya was sired. this dalliance was considered a direct act of betrayal to the crown and the spring queen's retaliation came in the form of regicide while zoya's mother is still at large. the single act calls into question zoya's legitimacy as an heiress to the throne as her people have no way of knowing if she has ties to the spring court because of her mother. members of her court speculate their princess possibly having a hand in her father's murder given her past violences though have no definitive proof of such.

in an effort to solidify her claim and birthright zoya agrees to go to war with the spring court in order to ascend to the throne AS QUEEN. currently, she is in the process of gathering allies, scouring the wild lands and seasonal courts alike but she is a young and tenacious monarch ━ and to many a symbol of unchecked power and potential ruin. while the ethereal court readies for war the other folk take note of their crumbling line of succession. zoya's kingdom is vulnerable on all fronts and even if she finds out the whereabouts of her mysterious mother it may not be enough to put the matter to rest without bloodshed. not to mention, zoya herself is a vengeful drakon with far too much magic at the tips of her fingers than she knows what to do with. a newly crowned sovereign entirely unchecked and brimming with fresh grief in her heart there is little she will not do in the name of her fallen father.

#v; faerie

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monstershearts · 1 year

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Count Vlad Dracula

Nationality: Romanian (formerly Transylvanian)

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Pansexual, Demiromantic

Age: 594 (appears to be somewhere in his mid-twenties) {Verse-dependent}

Apearance: Hypnotic hazel eyes, sharp elegant features, curly brown hair, 5’ 10", slim yet strong and intimidating figure. Usually wears formal or semi-formal wear in black, crimson, burgundy, or dark violet. Has taken to wearing natural-looking makeup in recent years to make himself look less pale and gaunt and more lifelike.

FC: Timothee Chalamet

Personality: Charming, intense, manipulative, slow to anger but monstrously violent, possessive, alluring, secretive, opportunistic, morbid, amoral. He will not hesitate to use those who dare to get close enough to him in order to gain some sort of advantage, regardless of their feelings or well-being, and is not above taking away their free will to do so. It is rare for his positive feelings toward someone to be completely genuine, and while he has no qualms about taking people of all genders to his bed, romantic attachments are very hard for him to form and even harder to break.

Goals: To create an army of vampires and rise back up to his former glory, and more importantly to survive.

Strengths and Powers: fiendish intelligence, hypnotic gaze, silver tongue, shapeshifting (bat, wolf, or mist), superhuman speed/agility/strength, telepathy, vampiric bite, immortality, eternal youth, can scale vertical surfaces and ceilings without being affected by gravity.

Weaknesses: Holy water, crosses and other non-satanic holy symbols, running water, sunlight, fire, stake to the heart, cannot enter someone’s residence without invitation, must feed on human blood at least once every few nights (he can sustain himself on animal blood, but must do so far more often).

Likes: When his victims season themselves with garlic, exploring new places, tea (earl grey is his favorite), corrupting innocent souls (or those who believe themselves to be innocent), armadillos, singing, motorcycles, freedom.

Dislikes: Full moons, werewolves, vampire hunters, religious zealots, demons, fae, blandness, boredom, seclusion.

Languages: Romanian, Hungarian, German, Russian, English, and French.

Background: The young son of an infamous warlord, Vlad grew up amidst both the turmoil of war and the privilege of aristocracy. He was first in line for his father’s throne, and made every effort to ready himself for the responsibility, though his precocious and flirtatious nature rendered him an insufferable youth in the minds of most others. He was an arrogant lad to be sure, but he carried his mother’s compassion in his heart and knew how to appeal to his subjects with ease. It seemed that he was much softer than his father, utterly naive to the horrors of the world outside of the palace. He was barely in his twenty-third year when it all came crashing down. Turkish invaders somehow managed to not only breach their borders but completely overwhelm them. His father begrudgingly left him and his mother in charge of fortifying the palace in order to lead the his armies against enemies who outnumbered them by far. Desperate to save his family and homeland and believing them to be forsaken by god, Vlad reached out to the powers of the occult. He was answered by a cunning and bloodthirsty demon, who promised him immortality and ungodly power in exchange for a cost that Vlad was too anguished to hear. The distraught boy accepted without a second thought. He was subsequently transformed into one of the world’s first vampires, cursed to feed on human blood and dwell in the shadows of night for eternity, and was too late to save his father from being slain on the battlefield. Enraged and mourning, the boy set out to exact his revenge, leading a second charge against the invaders under cover of night. It was a bloodbath. Vlad was relentless in unleashing his fury, growing stronger and stronger with every kill, but only realized the true cost of his actions once the Turks finally retreated. When he came back to his senses, Vlad was totally alone in a field full of blood and corpses, Turkish and Transylvanian alike. Stricken with both grief and guilt, the young vampire sank to his knees and wept, lamenting the fact that he’d allowed himself to become such a monster, only to realize that dawn would soon be approaching and that he still had to return to the palace to break the news to his mother. When he arrived, he found the whole place ransacked and abandoned, smelling of gruesome death. A troupe of invaders had gotten past his father, unbeknownst to Vlad, and made to lay waste to the palace. His mother and many of her handmaidens and other servants managed to fight them off, at the cost of their own lives. Those who survived had fled into the night, believing their home to be no longer theirs. In the midst of his despair, Vlad could not honestly say that he blamed them, but he could not bring himself to do the same. He slept through the day, tormented by horrific dreams, and set about burying them in the catacombs by night, feeding off the blood of rats to sustain himself until the work was done, at which point he condemned himself to sleep for the rest of eternity. That, he believed, was an apt punishment for his crimes.

-Meeting Frankenstein-

In the late 1700’s, Vlad was awakened by an odd yet familiar scent. One that hadn’t reached his nostrils in several centuries. Living human blood. It smelled so sweet, so incredibly enticing. Calling to him like a siren, it drew the starved vampire from his slumber, and all he could think about was drinking that hapless mortal dry, which he did with little to no remorse. Grief, sleep, and insatiable thirst had driven most of his morals away, leaving a cunning predator in their wake. That explorer wasn’t the last to wander into his castle, and with each one after him, Dracula’s strength and reputation grew and grew, until one fateful night. The moment Victor Frankenstein stepped foot into his palace, Vlad could smell the death on him, and that in itself intrigued the vampire enough to refrain from attacking him right away. A look into his mind revealed both intelligence and tragedy, guilt and rage, ambition and anguish. A brilliant scientist who had lost his way and his family all before turning twenty, now nearing thirty and chasing after a monster of his own creation. An interesting mortal full to the brim with potential. It was easy for Dracula to manipulate him, befriend him, offer him shelter, food, and a sympathetic ear to listen to his plight. He allowed Victor to stay in his otherwise empty castle for about a week before offering to aid him in his search for the Creature. Desperate and nearly defeated, the young man accepted readily, and the two set off the following evening, with Dracula explaining that he was far more comfortable traveling by night than by day. Victor, of course, did not question it. Their search eventually led them up to the Arctic, following a path of destruction and terrified rumors to the lumbering monster himself. Victor, however, had apparently lost the heart to kill the beast, having realized that he was to blame for creating and then abandoning him, which consequently threw a wrench into Dracula’s plans to turn him and take control of the creature. He apologized instead, begging the Creature for forgiveness and finally giving him the name Adam. Disgusted by the show of what he viewed to be weakness, and irritated by the change of heart, Dracula showed his true colors and punished Victor by attacking him, only for Adam to fly into a rage and attempt to defend his creator. The pair of undead waged bloody battle against each other while Victor watched in horror and slowly bled out on the ice. Adam quickly claimed victory when he broke the ice beneath Dracula’s feet, sending him plunging into frigid briny deep. The free flowing water burned the vampire, rendering him catatonic and trapped beneath arctic floes. That should have been the end of him, but thanks to some far too kind fishermen who pulled him out of the ice less than a month later, it was not. After draining them of their blood, he enthralled their captain and forced the man to ferry him back to the nearest European port, and from there made the harrowing journey by night back to his home in the Carpathians, where he remained in isolation for another century. Aside from his victims and those he chose to turn into the beginnings of his vampire army, Dracula allowed himself to keep no company. Victor’s betrayal burned him worse than any holy water could, and he couldn’t risk something like that happening again. It was a lonely existence, but a necessary one.

-Journeying to England-

He did not quite realize just how lonely he was until the turn of a new century crept up on him, the late 1800’s bringing with them the wake of the Industrial Revolution and a need for Vlad to find a way to escape his solitary gilded cage. He reached out with his telepathic abilities, past the borders of Romania, as far as he could. Though it strained his mind, he managed to reach England, latching on to the mind of an unassuming real estate agent by the name of Renfield as he tended his garden and compelling him to journey to the palace for a meeting about possibly buying property in London. Renfield agreed and set out for the Carpathians posthaste, eager to close a deal with this mysterious stranger and intrigued by his abilities. Thrilled that his plan was working, Vlad told his fledglings to leave him in peace when his guest arrived; Renfield was meant to be his and his alone. The meeting went splendidly, ending far more amicably than the mortal expected it to. He simply could not reject the rather stunning Count’s offer of a room for the night, since it was so late, and a shared meal sounded positively delightful, as did a few celebratory drinks. One thing led to another. A tipsy yet still terribly nervous confession of attraction on Renfield’s part yielded a kiss, which led to another kiss and many more after, and eventually to a passionately shared bed. Renfield woke up the next morning hung over and covered in what he assumed to be love bites, though one on his neck appeared to be excessively painful and red. He paid it no mind. The young Count had simply gotten carried away. They both had. Perhaps the wine had gone to both their heads in equal measure. Why else would such a handsome noble in the prime of his youth take an interest in a mid-thirties pencil pushing sobersides? He’d almost forgotten about the Count’s remarkable ability to enter his mind until he heard that sultry voice in the back of his head, sleepily asking him to come back to bed in heavily accented English. It worked like a charm. For a solid week, his days were spent entertaining the lusts of Count Dracula and sleeping in his embrace, and his nights were spent finalizing paperwork, chatting, and sharing meals with the inexplicably enamored young man with the sharp yet dazzling smile. He almost didn’t want their time together to end, but if the Count truly was to move to London, then Renfield would have to actually do his job, which would require him to return home and properly file the paperwork so that the property could be made ready to move into. As reluctant as he was to let his new not-quite-mortal pet go so soon, Dracula agreed that it was time to move forward with his plan. The reason why he had subtly turned Renfield into a dhampir in the first place. He needed someone in London to establish a respectable reputation for him, making it easier for him to be invited into people’s homes for parties and other such events. Easier for him to target the aristocracy and one by one bring them into his fold. Renfield unfortunately was not as emotionally sound as Dracula first thought, and over the course of two years of clandestine communication and manipulation, the dhampir slowly descended into madness due to his growing thirst for blood that he continuously tried in vain to resist. Eventually, Renfield was admitted into an asylum, and Dracula was forced to hire another lawyer to help him finalize his purchase of Carfax Abbey. Enter Jonathan Harker, a bright eyed and highly intelligent young man who was eager to prove himself both to his employers and to his first real client. Harker, as naive as he was, was much harder to seduce than Renfield, as he was already happily engaged, and had an annoying habit of frequently writing letters about his experiences in the castle to his fiancee, Mina. Dracula quickly found himself growing jealous of the strength of their relationship, vowing that he would one day have both of them under his thrall. In the meantime, he did everything he could to try and break Jonathan’s resolve without revealing his true nature to the mortal, even going so far as to save him from three female fledglings, regaling him with his impressive historical knowledge, learning how to cook hearty traditional meals, and virtually begging for every bit of knowledge he could get from the man about England. Charming as he was, nothing worked. In fact, he got the feeling that Jonathan was actively trying to pull away from him. That simply would not do. Their business long since concluded, Dracula arranged passage for himself to England and left his castle behind, abandoning Harker to his fledglings. From there, things went far more smoothly. The Count was well received amongst the London elite, and was easily able to keep himself sustained. Lucy Westenra seemed to be an ideal candidate for the inaugural member of his vampiric army in England, and he was able to make his move on her without much trouble, until Jonathan and his blushing bride, who happened to be Lucy’s best friend, returned to England with Abraham van Helsing in tow. Ever vengeful, especially after they managed to kill Lucy and keep her from fully turning, Dracula soon set his sights on Mina Harker, determined to use her against Jonathan and his friends. Van Helsing was clever, employing various techniques to ward off Mina’s room at the asylum and educating Jonathan, Dr. John Seward, Arthur Holmwood, and Quincey Morris in how to combat vampires. Dracula, however, still had a man on the inside in the spider eating Renfield. He exerted his control over the man once more, using him to let himself into Mina’s room and biting her. Believing himself to now have two pawns under his control, Dracula used Mina to taunt Jonathan and the others. He did not, however, count on Renfield being able to find his resolve long enough to be able to betray him to Van Helsing, nor did he account for Jonathan being able to track down his current lairs via the paper trail left by his dealings. When Renfield’s betrayal was revealed to him, he brutally murdered his former lover in a fit of rage, but was soon forced to retreat to his coffin with the coming of the dawn. He wasn’t prepared for the assault waged on his estate by Van Helsing and the others. Quincey Morris’s Bowie knife through his chest was a rather rude awakening, and he made damn sure that the mortal cowboy paid for it with his life, only to feel Jonathan Harker’s blade slice across his throat from behind. Hot tears streaked down the vampire’s face. It was the first time he’d felt so enraged and genuinely terrified since the day his father died in battle, and he was just as doomed as he had been back then. Faced with imminent demise, Vlad did the only thing he could do; he fell. Made them think they had killed him, and relinquished his hold on Mina in order to really sell his performance. It worked. As they worked to build him a funeral pyre, he used what little strength he had left to transform into mist and escape from his locked coffin, hiding himself in the deepest darkest part of his cellar until they were long gone. When dusk settled over England, he left the wretched country and set off for his home in the Carpathians, though it was slow going because of his greatly weakened state. He could barely hunt. Eventually, he was forced to find an unused coffin and go into his second death sleep.

-House of Frankenstein-

The next time Dracula awoke was in 1944, having been on display in the oddity show of traveling man Professor Lampini. Delirious and starving, he was revived by the scent of the murdered professor’s blood, and agreed out of gratitude to assist the two perpetrators in getting their revenge against the Burgomaster who had previously put them in jail. He held up his end of the deal, slaying Burgomaster Hussman after seducing his granddaughter-in-law, only to find that Dr. Niemann and his assistant betrayed him by destroying his coffin. Furious but unable to do anything about it before dawn, Vlad was forced to search for shelter, allowing the pair to believe he’d perished in the morning light. He stalked them by night, watching from the shadows as they revived and subsequently betrayed Adam Frankenstein and a werewolf by the name of Larry Talbot, but decided to leave the traitorous duo to their fates at the hands of the other monsters in favor of trying to regain his strength. Over the next four years, Dracula hunted and built himself back up, slowly but surely.

-Abbot and Costello Meet Frankenstein-

Once he deemed himself well enough to make another attempt at building his army, Vlad set about finding and attempting to revive Adam, still believing him to be a key element to his success. It worked, though the creature was extremely weakened by his numerous deaths and still had a burning hatred for the vampire. Obviously, that wasn’t ideal, so he made plans to revamp the creature that included replacing his brain with one that was much easier to manipulate. He set his sights on America, this time, getting in contact with an ambitious and brilliant doctor by the name of Sandra Mornay and coordinating with her to turn an island fort off the coast of Florida into a state of the art lab. He sent her the journal of Victor Frankenstein to study, then arranged to have himself and the once again dormant Adam to be shipped to McDougal’s Wax Museum. Once there, he found the perfect brain donor in Wilbur Grey, who unpacked his coffin with the help of Chick Young. Waiting until Wilbur was alone, Dracula quickly enthralled him, revived Adam once more, and made his escape to the island with the creature in tow. Once the creature was secured in the secret lab, Vlad was very pleased to find out that Dr. Mornay had already been steadily seducing Wilbur, despite Chick’s jealousy and misgivings about their relationship. She revealed that the boys had actually invited her to a masquerade ball on the mainland later that night, which he immediately insisted she should go to. Things got a bit more complicated when the boys showed up to the castle to pick her up with another woman in tow, whom Sandra later discovered to be an investigator for an insurance agency, Joan Raymond. Sandra excused herself, saying that she wasn’t feeling well and that the three of them should go with her workaholic assistant, Professor Stevens, instead. They left, and Vlad and Sandra got into an argument that resulted in him turning her into a vampire and setting off for the mainland together. Chaos ensued, mostly due to the unexpected presence of the ever righteous Larry Talbot, who finally succeeded in warning the boys about Dracula’s and Sandra’s plan, and things only went downhill from there. Talbot transformed into his lupine form with the rising of the second full moon, causing havoc at the ball and providing sufficient cover for Sandra and Dracula to abduct Wilbur, but come dawn, Talbot was able to join forces with Chick, Joan, and Stevens to formulate a plan to storm the castle. They made their charge the next night, with a third full moon high in the sky. Between the three humans, the raging werewolf, and the freed Adam and Wilbur, Dracula and Sandra found themselves quickly overwhelmed, with Adam throwing Sandra out a window and Talbot gunning for Dracula himself. Vlad luckily managed to turn into a bat and escape Talbot’s claws, just barely, and vowed never to cross paths with any of them again, going back into hiding.

-Modern Day-

Vlad spent the next several decades covertly touring the United States, making a concentrated effort to never remain in one place for too long and to not make any attachments to mortals or any grand plans. He discovered a love of rock ‘n’ roll in the ‘70s, purchased his first motorcycle and learned to ride it in the ‘80s, and fell head over heels in love with the life of a renegade shortly afterward.

Verses:

V; modern - Vlad rarely spends more than a few years in the same place, traveling from major city to major city without making too much of an effort to get attached. He is jaded and acts like a charming, aloof, punkass playboy, searching only for his next victim and meal.

V; main - Takes place at any point during the timeframe of the novel/first Universal movie.

V; prince - Takes place in Transylvania, when he’s still human.

V; stranger things - In the late summer of 1984, Vlad finds himself rolling into the seemingly sleepy town of Hawkins, Indiana, and immediately knows that something feels off about it. Intrigued, the vampire decides to investigate, and is dragged into a chaotic mess of hellish monsters, kids who are too brave for their own good, alternate dimensions, and Russian spies. Could he possibly find it in himself to act as a hero, for once?

#🩸 the blood is the life 🩸 c; Dracula #🦇 Chaos behind the quill 🦇 ooc talk #🦇 Calling all the monsters 🦇 promo #🦇 developing characters for fun and chaos 🦇 headcanon

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loquaciousnesssesquipedalian · 1 year

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The Enochian Language, a Medieval European “angelic” (read, fae) constructed language created by two very successful con artists, is mostly based on glossolalia with some snippets of English, Romanian, and Ecclesiastic Latin (the latter implying that its “U” and “I” are like they are in Ecclesiastic and Archaic Latin, so like in Romanian), which makes no sense given its supposed prehistoric origin. To summarize, here, in given order, are the letters, the script of which is right-to-left like in abjads and some variants of Runic scripts:

B/b

C/c: Like in English (makes no sense in context of its supposed origin)

G/g: Roughly the voiced equivalent of C above (ditto)

D/d

F/f

A/a: Like an “ah”, as in the Elizabethan English (among other languages) A/a, not quite like the modern version

E/e: Like an “eh”, as in the Elizabethan (among other languages) E/e, not quite like the modern version

M/m

I/i: Like the Romanian I/i, so it can be a vowel or a consonant (like in Iad, meaning “devil” and identical to the Romanian word for “hell”, for the latter while also equivalent to its linguistic origin, “Hades”)

Y/y or J/j: Syllable-final semivowel equivalent of I/i, differentiated from I/i with a dot

H/h: Like in Elizabethan English, the exact use varies but it sounds like “h” by itself initially

L/l

P/p

Q/q: Like “qu-” in English

N/n

X/x: Like in English

O/o: Like in Elizabethan English, not quite like the modern version

R/r

Z/z

U/u or V/v: Like in Archaic Latin, so like U/u in Romanian and Ecclesiastic Latin, u-equivalent to I/i above

S/s

T/t

Everything not given further details sounds like one would expect, and some English-derived consonant-digraphs are present, such as ‘ph’ (sounds identical to F/f), ‘th’, ‘sh’, and ‘ch’ (the sound varies, but it often sounds identical to the hard sound of C/c, presumably especially before E/e and I/i)

“True Enochian” could be applied to either a sci-fi or fantasy setting, and with what I know about ancient languages and some ancient non-semanto-phonetic scripts, I have some ideas, which will be listed below in a Semitic-derived order in the form of an abjad:

“E” - [null] or `/’: The null consonant, occurs either initially where a word begins with a vowel or to indicate a lengthened A/a or E/e, may indicate a glottal stop instead medially

“B“ - B/b or V/v: Voiced bilabial, hard in general but can be soft in some interpretations

“G“ - G/g or Ȝ/ȝ: Voiced velar, equivalent as such to the “B“ base but the soft version may have a “(d)zh“ sound instead

“D“ - D/d or Ð/ð: Voiced dental, ditto

“A“ - H/h or `/’: Glottal, H/h if soft or `/’ if hard, may also come after some vowels to indicate increased length of E/e in the manner of [null]

“U“ - V/v or W/w: Voiced labial, can be either the consonant equivalent to U/u or like the soft interpretation of “B“, sed to indicate a lengthened U/u or O/o

“Z“ - Z/z: Either like what one would expect it to sound or like some sort of ‘tz‘ sound

“H“ - H/h, Ħ/ħ, or X/x: Like some sort of h-sound, the exact interpretation may vary

“I/Y/J“ - J/j: Consonant equivalent to I/i, may be ised to indicate a lengthened I/i or E/e

“C“ - K/k or X/x: Voiceless velar, voiceless equivalent to “G” above

“L” - L/l: Pretty much as expected

“M“ - M/m: Ditto

“N“ - N/n: Ditto

“X“ - S/s: Like “ss“, possibly voiced in some cases

“O“ - `/’, Q/q, or Ɛ/ɛ: Like a glottal or pharyngeal stop, possibly could indicate a lengthened E/e or O/o

“P“ - P/p or F/f: Voiceless bilabial

“Q“ - Q/q: Could be either like a throaty hard velar sound or a pharyngeal stop

“R“ - R/r: Could be either rolled or not

“S“ - Ş/ş: Like what one would expect “sh“ to sound, could be voiced in some cases

“T“ - T/t or Þ/þ: Voiceless dental

The only one of the original 22 not accounted here is the one just before J/j. Also, this is only taking Canaanite/Hebrew languages into consideration as equivalents. Either way, consonant differentiation could be indicated by some sort of diacritic, as would each vowel and possibly a lack thereof.

For the null base, the idea is that certain other bases would just be that one with diacritics, such as J (palatalization, as in -j), S (-s or s-), Ş (ş- or -ş) V/W (labialization, as in -v/w), the pseudo-A (aspiration, glottalization, doubling, or hardening), the pseudo-O (pharyngealization, glottalization, or doubling), R (retroflex), or N (nasal). That would make sense if one considers that the Dee/Kelly font does not have to be the original and would be highly unlikely to be anything but a fancy version. This could make the null consonant the one many others are built upon, and of course the palatalization diacritic would be the easiest to get from that font given the similarity to the presented versions of the bases.

If I was to apply that to the Verden Chronicles, it would represent a Verden-born human language without close Terran languages but instead based on preexisting extraterrestrial ones, and I could expand that into a language family at least in the lore. Also, there would be an Enochian civilization that uses/used said language and similar ones.

The SCP Foundation website mentions “High Enochian”, evidently supposed to be the original that John Dee and Edward Kelly screwed up for their own gain. In-universe, Dee was one of the Order of the Night (a real life organization given an SCP spin here), a group of alchemists who found a way to contact Alagadda, an inter-universal city-state ruled by malevolent gods but not inherently hostile itself. The implication here is that Hich Enochian is one of if not the only official language of Alagadda, despite what the Horizon Initiative (an in-universe Abrahamic-themed Foundation knockoff) seems to think judging by another anomaly (it makes sense in context, but it’s a sapient, talking whale made into a ship/theater through unholy, possibly Sarkic, magick, not that it seems to mind).

From a Foundationverse perspective, High Enochian, as a language native to a place that makes little to no sense given the physical laws of baseline reality at least from a spatial, gravitational, and perceptional point of view, would actually be not only stranger but literally unpronounceable to baseline humans to at least some extent. If unrelated to Alagadda in origin, it would instead be the language of a prehistoric Enochian civilization only vaguely alluded to in other articles (the closest thing to a consistent canon given they represent events set in different parts of the multiverse), and it would be pronounceable but likely following a different logic from what I described in detail. I prefer the Alagadda idea myself, partly because I like the idea of the Horizon Initiative to be too willfully ignorant to accept that the language itself is not even remotely what they think it is, and that would be played for nightmare fuel somehow, like a linguist ending up being only capable of sounds no creature on Earth should be able to make as a result of trying to sound it out over an extended period of time and eventually coughing up blood. Maybe it could be both at once, as in High Enochian being of Alagaddan origin but being derived from an earlier human language, but that would be unlikely.

Coincidentally, there is an “Enochian” species (apparent angel-equivalents of the evil god Dagon) in Ben 10: Alien Force, and that setting’s equivalent “True Enochian” would most likely be their language if not some other nonhuman language. The trouble is that said setting does next to nothing to expand on the concept, but that is most likely to avoid overdoing it on the worldbuilding, not that it’s perfect or anything, of course.

#history #occult #verden #sci-fi #transliteration #linguistics #scp #conlang #ben 10 #body horror

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arjaandsimoni · 10 months

Text

Rakshasa

Jaipur, India. The night after the battle with the Lord of Owls

Arja and Simoni walked off the airplane platform and took a deep breath, grinning at each other. “FINALLY!” cheered Arja, “Finally back somewhere that isn’t frozen!”

Simoni giggled, “Oh man, I used to like snow but… yeah guess my body just isn’t built for it anymore.” she sighed a bit, stretching and enjoying the balmy jungle air. “I mean, even at nighttime its still warmer…” she squirmed a bit, the girls walking out of the airport lounge as Rajesh and Nelen took care of their arrival. As they did there was a faint pop and Dusk appeared on Simoni’s shoulder.

“Woo! Warm again!” he grinned, then looked at her, “So… fish now?” he asked.

Simoni giggled, “Well, we were going to go visit Akul when we got back, wanted to tell him about that fae we fought… but I suppose we could stop on the way.” she replied.

Arja nodded, “Yeah, be nice to take it easy for a bit.” she said as she strolled out into the evening with the garuda and the cat. As they got to Jaipur proper however a golden furred dog ran up to greet them… or at least most of the locals assumed it was someone’s dog.

“Lupe!” giggled Simoni, reaching out and rubbing at the werewolf’s ears, the lycanthrope wagging and panting at the attention as she nuzzled in. Dusk grinned, teleporting onto her head and curling up there as Lupe made a confused growling noise, looking up as her ears perked up around him. Despite being cats, the Cheshire kittens had found out pretty fast that Lupe was basically a big warm thing to nap on during the daytime, when she’d usually sleep next to Natasha’s coffin.

“Ah, I was wondering why Lupe suddenly ran off like she did.” chuckled a voice with a thick Romanian accent as Natasha walked into view, the vampire’s fangs shining in the moonlight. Despite the warm air she was dressed in a long-sleeved red silk top, a full-length black skirt, and black heeled boots... she stood out, but most assumed she was an eccentric tourist in the city. “Welcome back girls.”

Arja nodded, “Thanks. We miss anything exciting while we were gone?” she asked.

Natasha shook her head, “Not really. The most I heard about was an archaeological team going missing nearby. Probably a tiger attack.” she tutted, shaking her head. “Such a shame…”

Simoni sighed, “Yeah, hopefully the stuff they found at the dig survived at least. Did they say if anything was missing?” she asked.

Natasha shrugged, “I did not hear much. The policemen asked Iravati to inform Rajesh when you returned from France. He was helping to finance the dig. From what I heard however, they may have found a lost temple to an Indian god… Lord…” she paused, thinking, “Forgive me, I do not remember names very easily after six hundred years’ worth… I believe Lord… Ramuh… Rameh?” she tried.

Arja pasued at that, cocking her head, “Lord… Rama perhaps?” she tried.

Natasha nodded, “Ah yes! This was the one. Rama.”

Arja stared, “Woah! Why didn’t dad tell me that he was helping out with that?! Lord Rama is an ancient ally of King Hanuman!” she gasped.

Simoni shrugged, “Maybe he wanted it to be a surprise, or he didn’t know if the dig would find anything. I mean, it could have just been an empty patch of jungle with a few loose stones, or the temple could have been too far gone for anything to be recoverable.” she suggested.

Arja shrugged, “I suppose so… still…” she paused, looking at Lupe.

The werewolf had gone stock-still, her ears perked up… and then she growled low. They were still near the edge of the city, and the jungle was nearby.

Arja looked at Lupe, then at Natasha, “Should we worry?” she asked.

Natasha narrowed her eyes, “Perhaps… Lupe can tell a mundane animal from a genuine threat…” she muttered, glancing around, then waved for them to follow her into an alleyway, pulling the werewolf along beside her as Dusk teleported back onto Simoni’s shoulder.

Once they were out of view Natasha held Lupe’s cheeks as she looked into the werewolf's face. “My darling, I need you to change into a form that can speak for me… please.” she whispered to her, keeping eye contact.

The werewolf whined, then slowly the fur receeded and her muzzle shrank until she returned to her half-wolf form. She couldn’t become a true werewolf until she was an adult, her werewolf form resembling a human girl with wolf-like ears, a shaggy mane of blonde hair-fur, long sharp finger and toenails, and a thick layer of arm and leg hair.

Natasha nodded, “Now, focus my darling… what do you smell?” she asked.

Lupe growled, “Smell… bad, big… danger… smell like… man-blood…” she spat out in broken Romanian. Lupe couldn’t wear one of the ear clips that the others did as they had to be crafted from silver. While some werewolves were as intelligent as humans, Lupe was far more feral. Natasha felt this was the result of trauma from seeing her pack killed as a cub the night she found her and took her in.

Simoni blinked, “Man-blood?” she asked, “Wait, so they smell like they attacked a human?”

Lupe nodded to her, “Yes!” she barked, “Man-blood… on claws… but not man.”

Arja frowned, “That… is worrying. So not a human but smells like human blood… and Natasha you’re sure she can tell the difference between a mundane animal and something else?” she asked.

Natasha frowned at her, “My darling Lupe can tell the difference between any five of your vanara you care to test her with. She can most certainly tell a tiger from something truly dangerous.” she huffed.

Arja winced at her, “Okay okay sorry, just being sure…” she grumbled.

Simoni leaned down, “Lupe, can you tell us how dangerous they are? How strong?” she asked.

Lupe cocked her head, “… Lupe no hunt.” she replied.

Natasha looked at her, “She means they’re stronger than her.”

Simoni frowned, “That’s very worrying then…” she muttered. Lupe was a werewolf, and they were very VERY difficult to hurt unless you used silver or fire. “Stronger than Drusilla?” she asked.

Lupe sniffed a few times, flicking her ear, “… Lupe dunno…” she replied.

Simoni nodded, then took out her phone, “I’m calling Nelen. We need to at least check… if its something really nasty we can get word to Akul and he can rally the vanara to drive it away.” she said, calling Nelen’s phone.

The phone rang a few times and after a minute a young girl’s voice said, “Moe’s Tavern, this is Amanda Hugnkiss.” Simoni could almost hear the grin.

“Dawn, give the phone to Nelen please. We might have a situation here.” she said.

“Sorry Simoni, no can do. He’s in some private meeting with Rajesh and the Jaipur cops. Something went down in the jungle apparently.” replied Dawn, “Have to wait outside because I’m posing as his ‘daughter’ right now…” she sighed in annoyance.

Simoni glanced around, “That… sounds like what we might have been calling about Dawn.” she replied in a worried tone, “We’re with Natasha and Lupe right now. Lupe can smell something big moving around in the jungle, something that doesn’t smell human… but does smell like human blood.”

“Hm… yeah okay, that’s bad…” mewled the Cheshire, “Look, you and Arja can fly. Go check it out, have Natasha and Lupe wait for us and if you’re not back by the time he’s out we’ll come looking.”

Simoni nodded. “Right, good idea… Just hurry. Whatever this is, Lupe says its stronger than her.” she replied.

Dawn let out a low whistle, “A werewolf wouldn’t wanna tangle with it? Damn that shortens the list… yeah, go scout it out and I’ll get Gandalf out there ASAP. Later!” and the line went dead with a click.

Simoni put her phone away, then kicked off her sandals and stuck them in her belt. “Arja, we can at least see what it is. As long as we stay in the air it should be fine.” she nodded, then took Dusk off her shoulder.

“Sheesh, maybe we should wait for Drusilla?” asked Arja.

Simoni shook her head, “Nope, Drusilla is going on seven months now. If that thing is dangerous I don’t want to risk it hurting her baby.” she nodded.

Arja grinned, “Don’t let her hear you saying that. She’d get all pissed off and say ‘A cyclops kid can take a punch from some wimpy naga!’”

Simoni giggled, “Yeah, she probably would… but lets just keep her out of it until we’re sure we need her.” she nodded, shapeshifting into her garuda form and leaning down to let Arja climb on. A minute later they shot out of the alleyway like a cork from a bottle, gaining altitude before banking off towards the jungle.

Arja changed into her Vanara form as soon as they were past the edge of the city, taking a deep breath. “Eugh! Yeah I can smell it now too, blood… definitely human… and…” she sniffed again several times, then her tail went rigid. “Shit! Simoni I know what that smell is!” she growled, clinging to her back and looking out around them.

“What?! What is it Arja?” asked the garuda.

Arja growled, “… a Rakshasa… and if it stinks of that much blood we’re not dealing with one like Akuru. This one won’t be friendly. We’re going to need help…”

The Jungles Near Jaipur

Through the thicket went the Rakshasa, growling under his breath as he did. “This had better be the right one… I don’t want to piss him off…” he snarled. He stood almost fifteen feet tall, a massive wall of muscle and sinew, looking like an Indian man but with huge tusks jutting out of his jaw, excessive body hair, and a pair of horns curling up from his forehead. He wore a pair of baggy leather trousers, handmade from elephant hide, but no other clothing or weapons… however, he did have something with him. An ornate quiver, full of arrows… but no bow with which to fire them.

His hands were like massive claws and the blood of at least several men was still drying on them, as it was on his tusks and lips, because why waste good meat?

Suddenly, he stopped, looking around as his nostrils flared. “Well? Come out then! I can smell you!” he growled, looking around. “Come out, or do I have to come in after you?” he barked.

After a moment, the bushes rustled, and Nelen Fullmoon strode into view. “Fine fine, here I am.” he sighed, shaking his head, flexing his hands. “Look, we don’t care who you are. All we want is you to scram. Stop killing humans, stick to tigers or something, plenty of good hunting in the jungle.”

The rakshasa sneered, “You would tell ME what to do little human?” he laughed, “I am Rakshasa! I eat men like you for breakfast, and lunch, and dinner as well! Why should I listen to you?” he snarled.

Nelen grinned back, “Because I know how to make scent charms, and you’re surrounded.” he replied.

The Rakshasa’s eyes widened as the bushes suddenly burst open and Arja and Lupe dove atop him, the former latching onto his back and igniting her entire body in one go, becoming a fireball hanging onto his shoulders as the latter clamped her jaws around his leg and snarled, pulling as hard as she could with all her might!

The rakshasa roared in pain and fury, trying to grab them and pull them off, only for his own shadow to suddenly grab him by the shoulders and slam him hard into the ground. As it did Arja leapt free and a massive downdraft of wind slammed into him, smashing him into the ground. “Last warning tons of fun. Get the fuck away from Jaipur and STAY there.”

The Rakshasa, however, only seemed to be angry… it roared and kicked Lupe away, the werewolf letting out a loud yelp, then climbed to its feet. “I’m supposed to deliver this to him, but TO HELL WITH THAT! I’M NOT LEAVING HERE WITHOUT YOUR BLOOD ON MY FANGS!” he roared, charging at Nelen… and then suddenly charging past where Nelen was before slamming into a tree.

Nelen reappeared behind him, flexing his hand and generating a tendril of Merihim’s substance. “Buddy, I had to deal with SO much shit the past year… you’re just a big ugly asshole.” he spat as Dawn grinned at the Rakshasa.

“Yeeeeeeup, we just took down a faerie lord and his whole entourage. You’re nothing after him!” she cackled.

Then there was a loud crashing sound as the Rakshasa ripped the tree he’d run into free, swinging it around with force.

“… ohballs.” said Nelen, and he immediately hit the dirt seconds before the tree would have taken everything above his hips off.

The rakshasa glared, the quiver forgotten as he hefted the broken tree like a giant club. “KILL YOU!” he snarled. As he did however Lupe leapt again, landing on his shoulders as she dug her claws into his face!

“LUPE HUNT! LUPE KILL!” she roared, the rakshasa snarling in fury as he grabbed at her, and as he did Natasha conjured another shadow to burst out and slam hard into the Rakshasa’s middle, the solid mass of darkness slamming into his stomach!

The rakshasa coughed, but otherwise it seemed to have little effect as he reached up and caught the werewolf, throwing her at one of the trees across the clearing. Lupe let out a loud yelping sound as she hit, then fell to the ground stunned.

“LUPE!” snarled Arja, “You asshole!” she flexed her claws and conjured a massive sphere of flames as above her Simoni flapped her wings and whistled sharply, feeding the flames with her wind magic to make it double in size before Arja threw it at the Rakshasa!

He snarled, swinging the tree, then sneered as the fireball slammed into it, setting the tree ablaze!

“… oops.” winced Arja as Natasha hissed in terror, vanishing in a swirl of darkness and reappearing near Lupe. She’d accidentally handed the Rakshasa a deadly weapon!

Nelen scowled, glancing back at Natasha and Lupe, then at the rakshasa. Fire was extremely deadly to vampires, and it was one of the few things that could permanently hurt a werewolf.

He glanced down at his hands… at the bandages wrapped around them.

“… just the Rakshasa, nothing else.” he warned.

His fingers twitched in response.

Nelen put his hands together, fingers hooked around the bandages at either wrist. “ARJA! SIMONI! STAY BEHIND ME WHATEVER YOU DO!” he shouted, and there was a loud tearing noise as Dawn hissed in shock, teleporting back next to Natasha.

“SHIT! GUYS HE MEANS IT! HE’S GOING ALL OUT!” she warned.

Nelen aimed his hands at the Rakshasa, palms out, to reveal a bloody sigil carved right into the flesh on each.

“Whats this?” snorted the rakshasa.

“My inner demon, lemme introduce you.” he growled, bracing himself, “Voco te Merihim! Dominus Zomiel!” he shouted, and with a sudden burst of copper and brimstone in the air the Infernal Storm was released once more!

The Rakshasa roared in shock as no less than a dozen tendrils of blood-like liquid erupted forth from the warlock’s hands, sprouting massive jagged bony fangs mid-route to the Indian monster. “WHAT IS THIS SORCERY?!” he roared, holding the burning tree out like a shield… but Merihim was a demon from the Christian Hell, mundane flames were NOTHING for him!

The tree was splinters within minutes, and the Rakshasa screamed in pain as the tendrils bit into him, sweat beading on Nelen’s forehead as he tried to force Merihim to keep his focus on the Rakshasa… but once he was unsealed it took all he had to keep him from just running wild and attacking what he wanted!

There was a loud wet sound and the Rakshasa howled, and the creature’s arm went flying to land in the bushes nearby.

From behind him Arja stared at the carnage. “Simoni… what the FUCK is this?!” she asked, looking at the garuda as she landed next to them. She’d seen Nelen conjure his magic before, but it was never like THIS! It was always controlled, focused… this was even more monstrous than the rakshasa!

“Um… okay, so… does India have any stories involving… demonic possession?” she asked.

Arja shook her head, ��Not… many?” she tried, looking back as the Rakshasa tried to advance… but the warlock’s tendrils tore into him, the monstrous creature already sporting several deep gashes on his remaining limbs and torso, one of his eyes totally destroyed.

“Right, well… lets just say Nelen NEVER does this unless he feels like he can’t avoid it. Last time was when a fae queen called Isolde came for Stephy…” she nodded firmly, wincing as she saw the devastation unfold before them.

Arja winced as the Rakshasa screamed, falling to his side as one of his legs came off. The Vanara girl looked like she might be sick, “This is too much… NELEN STOP! HE CAN’T FIGHT ANYMORE!” she called out.

Nelen growled, “ARJA! STAY QUIET! IT TAKES ALL MY FOCUS TO KEEP HIM FROM GOING AFTER WHATEVER HE WANTS!” he shouted.

Arja opened her mouth, and Dawn clamped a hand over it. “He means it.” she warned, the Cheshire’s eyes wide… and at that Arja nodded slowly, staring at Nelen as she fell silent. If Dawn was taking this seriously that told the vanara all she needed to know.

Finally, there was another tearing sound and the rakshasa’s second leg came loose, and Nelen growled, then lowered his hands, keeping them pointed ahead of him as he forced Merihim’s substance back into his body. “Dawn… spares…” he grunted out.

Dawn nodded, teleporting to him and fishing them out of his bag, then quickly pressing a gauze pad to the palm of his left hand, trying it on securely, and doing likewise with the other… and finally Nelen let himself fall back onto the jungle floor, gasping for breath, sweat dripping off his face. “Fuck… I need a drink…” he gasped.

Arja stood up, “What… was that the ‘Merihim’ thing you keep talking about?” she asked.

Nelen nodded, “Yeah… it was… that’s what happens when I completely remove his seal…” he said, holding up his hand and pointing to the bandage with his other one.

Arja looked up. The Rakshasa lay nearby… most of him anyways. His breathing was labored, and blood poured from the stumps where his other three limbs had been. She felt sick seeing it, even one of them didn’t deserve to die like THIS.

She shook herself, then strode towards him, “Look… I heard you say you were taking that to someone. Tell us why and I’ll use my fire to kill you quickly.” she nodded.

The rakshasa looked up at her with his one remaining eye, then sneered. “… I spit on you, child of Hanuman. My Lord will get what he seeks, and my people will feast on vanara flesh when he does.” he replied.

Arja growled, then took a breath and let out a blast of flames into his face! A moment later the Rakshasa trembled and fell silent as his lungs baked from the inside out.

She shook herself, then walked to the object that the Raksahsa had dropped. “This… hey, I recognize this thing!” she said, “This quiver… it looks just like the one Lord Rama had in all the old paintings I’ve seen of him!” she gasped.

Nelen held out his hand for it, the Vanara hesitating a bit before Simoni nodded to her, then handing it over. “Sorry… just…” she muttered.

Nelen nodded, “How do you think I feel? That thing is inside me.” he grumbled, examining it. “Well, I’m no expert on Indian legendry, but it definitely looks old enough to belong to someone from at least several centuries ago…” he replied, “Metal, adorned with gold and jewels… probably why it survived so long…” he nodded, taking out the arrows inside one by one… then letting out a yell and dropping one. “SHIT!” he gasped, looking at the one he dropped… then scooting back several feet.

“What?! Whats wrong? It can’t be poisoned… those things are…” she looked at the arrow that rolled away, and her eyes widened.

The other arrowheads were all normal, but this one was different. Where the arrowhead should be was a sort of hole in the air, a gaping blackness at the tip of the arrow. Arja felt her blood run cold. “That… Nelen, tell me that’s not what I think it is…” she stammered.

“It is… that’s void iron…” he whispered back, staring at the arrow as Simoni gasped.

“A… a mundane ARROW?!” she shouted, “Shit this is bad, really bad, what if they made more?! The sword was bad enough but a good archer…” she started, but Nelen held up a hand.

“Arja… listen to me very carefully. I think… this could be a lot worse than that.” he warned.

Arja looked at him, then back at the arrow, “What do you mean?” she asked.

“You said this looked like a quiver of arrows wielded by Lord Rama… and that is clearly a void iron arrowhead…” he said, “Arja… why did the rakshasa have this?”

Arja looked at it, “… I… Nelen what are you implying?” she asked him slowly, raising her eyebrows.

“Arja, I may not know a ton about Indian legends… but even westerners have heard of Ramayana…” he warned, “If this is a mundane arrow, and a rakshasa was taking it somewhere…” he nodded to her.

Arja looked at the arrow, and felt as if her heart had stopped for a moment, “No… you’re not suggesting…”

“In Ramayana, Lord Rama killed someone with an arrow, someone who was supposed to be invincible right? Protected from gods, demons, and nearly everything?” he asked.

Arja stared at it, then back at him, “NO WAY! Nelen you can’t be serious! That… Lord Rama killed him with a divine arrow! It had the power of the gods and pierced his heart! Everyone in India, mundane or otherwise, knows the story!”

Simoni hesitated, “Um… I don’t… who are you talking about?” she asked.

Arja stared at the arrow, “… if… if Nelen is right… then…” she swallowed, “That could be the prison of King Ravana, the lord of all Rakshasa, and the most powerful enemy King Hanuman ever faced...”

Barjar Manor, two hours later…

Nelen wasn’t an expert on Indian legendry and history, but Rajesh was. After much debate they brought the arrow back with them, carefully scooping it into the quiver and carrying it in that only… but it seemed that the small chunk of void iron couldn’t affect them directly. Arja carried the rest of the arrows, refusing to leave them behind.

When they presented it to Rajesh he took it into his study, closing the door behind him. Being a mundane he had nothing to fear from it but wanted it well away from his wife and family.

Two hours later however… he emerged. His expression was grim.

He went down to the rec room where the others were assembled, nodding to them. “Everyone, thank you for your patience. I have examined the arrow and referenced several tomes… and…” he took a deep breath, his eyes full of concern. “I fear Nelen may be correct. This is identical to the descriptions of the arrows used by Lord Rama.”

Arja shook her head, stomping forward, “Dad! It… it can’t be! Lord Rama killed Ravana! He’s gone!” she shouted.

Rajesh sighed at her, “Arja… I am afraid that the evidence shows this may not be the case…” he replied.

Iravati stood up at this, walking to her husband. “Rajesh, if that truly is a mundane blade, and if it is the arrow that Lord Rama used to ‘kill’ Ravana…” she glanced at the couch, where several of the Cheshires were… living proof that those ‘killed’ by a mundane blade were not, in fact, killed at all but rather sealed inside the void iron that made the weapon.

Rajesh nodded, “Yes… and I am afraid the situation is more severe than that. I was speaking to the police captain when we arrived. They had come from the archeological site and had finished their inventory. From what artifacts were recorded, only one was missing. An ancient quiver full of arrows, matching the description of the one that Arja and her friends found exactly.” he replied.

Arja stepped back, “Wait… the archeological site… the rakshasa’s hands were soaked in human blood, you don’t mean…”

Rajesh took a deep breath, then said in a grim tone, “I cannot deny that the facts add up. The rakshasas must have learned somehow of the fact that it is possible to free the victims of the Mundane Blades, and that Rama’s arrow is one.”

Arja felt as if her world was falling out from under her. This was worse than Franklin Fullmoon, worse than Claiomh Dorcadas. Ravana was a true monster, a demon who had almost conquered all of India in ages long past. “I… w-what are we going to do? If some rakshasa leader gets his hands on the arrow and figures out a way to shatter it…” she stammered. She didn’t think it was plausible. It took two gods to destroy Claiomh Dorcadas… but just the possibility of it...

Simoni walked up next to her, hugging her tightly. “Arja, we’ll figure out something…” she whispered.

Arja shook her head, “You don’t understand Simoni! If something like Ravana comes back it could put the whole world in danger!” she shouted, “He was indestructible! Lord Rama was the only one who could even attempt to harm him! And…” she shuddered. “… I… I was told all my life that his arrow was blessed by the gods but was it a lie?! He used a mundane blade to capture Ravana?! Can he even be killed?!”

Iravati knelt down next to Arja, “Daughter, listen to me. We will find a way. We are the heirs to the line of Hanuman.” she nodded firmly, “Our ancient king faced threats all through his life that could have defeated or even killed him, but he always found a way to turn those odds in his favor. Are we not of his blood?” she smiled, “There will be a way… we must find it is all.” she nodded.

Nelen, however, was looking at Simoni thoughtfully. “Iravati. Are there any temples to Rama around perhaps? Ones that are still in use?” he suggested.

Iravati looked up, “… yes, of course. I can think of several infact. Why?”

Nelen scratched at his chin, “And, would it be safe to assume that some of those temples might also house a replica of Rama’s bow and quiver?” he asked.

Iravati stood, then smirked a bit as she began to understand, “I… yes that would be quite likely. I do not know if they do for certain, but it would be a simple matter to find out.”

Nelen straightened up. “Well…” he gestured to Simoni, “Why don’t we do with the arrow what my sister did? Hide it in plain sight.” he grinned. “We take the real arrow of Rama and slip it in with the fakes. None of the mundanes will ever know it’s even there, and the rakshasa can’t risk taking it without revealing themselves at a major religious site.”

Rajesh thought, then grinned, “That… yes that would work! If we put the arrow into hiding at a holy site, the rakshasa may not even be able to enter the grounds! The temple itself would bar them!”

Arja stared at him, the Vanara girl suddenly feeling solid ground under her feet again, “We… we could, couldn’t we?” she gasped.

“Now, it won’t be easy! We can’t use the Wulfshead to transport a mundane blade, the door works on magic… so wherever the temple is, we gotta do it the mundane way. Get a car and drive.” he nodded, “But as long as we’re careful to keep the arrow hidden, I mean its not like rakshasa are the stealthiest of creatures…” he grinned, “So, who’s up for a road trip?” he asked, clasping his hands together with a nod.

Iravati nodded, “I’ll go check online and see what temples would have a replica of the divine bow.” she nodded, taking the stairs two at a time as she ran upstairs to her computer.

Rajesh nodded, “Yes, and I will arrange for a car big enough to carry you and whoever you take with you Nelen. Choose your allies carefully however… we must ensure that the arrow does not fall into the rakshasas’ hands.” he warned.

Dawn grinned at this, standing up, “Oh c’mon! We went all over the world last summer! This’ll just be a quick vacation. Besides, we haven’t really gotten to see India much since we got here. May as well take the scenic route eh? Take in a few sights, maybe get some neat selfies…” she cackled.

Arja frowned, “If we screw this up all of India could be destroyed.” she growled at the Cheshire.

Dawn shrugged, “So we don’t screw up. Get the arrow to safety, do it quick and quiet so the rakshasa don’t catch on, and back in time for Republic Day.” she nodded, grinning at the Vanara girl. “You gotta just go with it sometimes Arja. Life throws chaos at ya, learn to dance through it with a big ol’ grin.”

Arja sighed, then smirked a bit, “Yeah, suppose after everything else… I mean maybe we’ll get lucky and the rakshasa didn’t manage to tell anyone he actually found the arrow.” she nodded.

The Supernatural World

Akuru grinned to himself, licking clean another tiger’s legbone. Sure there were other things in the jungle, but he loved tiger meat best. Perhaps he’d go hunting again soon.

As he sat near his fire however he became aware of a presence, the Rakshasa standing and looking around, “Hm? Who’s there? I can hear you moving around whoever you are! Come out into the light!” he barked, his metal skin shining in the firelight.

A voice came from the bushes, deep and cultured, as a figure stepped into view, “You would address one of my caste in such a way?” asked a masculine voice.

Akuru squinted in the dark, then his eyes bulged as his jaw dropped in shock. “Y-you! But… you’re gone! Back to the wheel of reincarnation! We all saw you fall!” he gasped.

The newcomer spat on the flames, then simply stated, “Kneel.”

Akuru nodded slowly, then fell to his knees and bowed his head. He could not refuse, not to this one…

“Very good. Now… my agents tell me that several months ago you met a Vanara and Garuda in this jungle seeking a lotus flower…” he started.

“S-sir, I know we are enemies of their kind but…” he started.

“Shhh…” replied the other speaker, “I merely wish to know of them, their abilities. Whatever you saw, tell me.” he said.

Akuru hesitated, then nodded, “I only saw the Garuda’s magic… but she is very talented. I challenged her to make me bleed, and in response she focused her wind into a tiny sphere and shot it up my nose, where my skin is no different to any mortal man’s.”

The speaker waited, then said, “This is all?”

Akuru nodded, “Y-yes Sir… sorry Sir… that was all I saw of their magic…”

The speaker sighed, “Pity… I should kill you for aiding them. However, we will need men to hold our ancestral home once I have what I seek. Stand Akuru and serve once more.” he commanded.

Akuru rose, and nodded, “As you command, your highness.”

The speaker nodded, “Indeed, as it should be.”

#supernatural adventures #modern fantasy #fiction #lgbtq

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