#the dwellers are the beings that live in her realm

[lanayru-the-water-god]

A message from Bailey

I have made some Lanayru lore. Please check the tags before reading, and enjoy! (1000 years before the rp quests)

…

Rewards for a Selfless Being: When the Water Goddess Gained a New Domain

During a rare trip to the Surface, a young Lanayru finds out that her sacred element can also kill. After abusing her power and injuring herself to save a young boy’s life, she gains a new domain: generosity.

Word count: 2021 (way longer than i thought oopsies)

Lanayru was only two centuries old, her silky blonde hair cut off below the shoulders, unlike the long and flowy locks of her present style. Never before had she left the Gods’ Realm to descend to the Surface below…and she wanted to try so desperately. The people she was blessing with clean, fresh water, the people who prayed to her for miracles and were forever grateful when she delivered…

It was her dream to meet them. Or at least see their beautiful faces, knowing she had fulfilled her duties.

One morning, as she smoothed out her hair in the mirror and slipped the golden rings on her fingers, she made her decision. She would go to the teleportation circle, near her beloved healing spring, and visit the Surface.

…

“Stand in the middle of the circle.”

She obliged, stepping her feet into the glowing white chamber, and closed her eyes.

“Now, be very careful down there…and when you wish to return, summon your symbol.”

She nodded her head in agreement. All she had to do was create the four raindrops above her hand and she would be home.

Easy enough…

For a second she felt light as a feather, the ground leaving her feet, and she was floating…floating?…and then her feet landed on something soft but firm.

She slowly opened her eyes, and for the first time she saw the land of the people.

Wow…this is amazing.

Just the mere sight of it all was enough to take her breath away.

The slightly tall grass tickled her ankles, and she let out a giggle. The sky was clear blue, more so than up in her Realm, and there was so much…green. So much vibrant color, in the flowers, the structures…everything.

She scanned the area, searching for any people, and close by to her left was a large body of water. Before she could even think, she found herself walking toward that water…the element she had spent her long life protecting. Her eyes were fixed on the shimmering blue waves, going in and out…in and out…

A lake.

Then she noticed…rather strange objects…what is that thing? Several of them bobbed out in the water, white with triangular shaped tops. Leave the precious water alone! Someone had built a long wooden platform that extended far out into the lake, and people were jumping off it happily, their cheers ringing out into the air.

Upon reaching the hill by the lake, she stopped to catch her breath.

Children were playing in the crystal-clear water, from the shallow waves all the way to the deeper area, their delighted laughs and shouts warming Lanayru’s heart. I have done well here, she assured herself, the water is clear…the kids are so happy. Nothing satisfied the Water Goddess more than giving happiness to her people. And now, she could finally see it firsthand.

An absolute dream come true.

She wondered if interaction was a possibility…could the people even see her here? Or would they think she was a human, like any other? Should she hide as another identity to avoid mass hysteria?

She let out a deep breath. Standing and observing was enough for now. In a little while she would summon her four raindrops and go back home.

Ah, the sweet smell of bliss…

As if out of nowhere, someone screamed.

Lanayru’s heart skipped a beat.

“Guys, look over there!!”

“He can’t swim! HE CAN'T SWIM!!”

“Is he…drowning??”

Drowning?

That certainly wasn’t a word she’d heard before.

A few of the people were pointing to a spot in the lake, isolated from where the other people were hanging out, and she turned her gaze to that area…

A pair of hands stuck out above the surface, thrashing and flailing.

Drowning.

People can die in water?

The others were moving toward the person, but their hands were sinking below the surface. It may have already been too late…

No.

Lanayru just couldn’t stand there and watch while someone lost their life to her beloved element.

“NO!!” she shouted, bolting toward the lake as fast as her dainty legs could take her. Your Healing Grace. It can fix this.

But she had only used it to heal herself. Never another being.

Several people dragged the poor man- or boy? out of the water slowly. His arms drooped limply even with the grip on each wrist, his eyes were closed…he was unmoving.

Before they finished maneuvering his whole body onto the murky sand, she was by his side. For a brief second, the other humans’ eyes met hers…and a young lady gasped.

“Is that…?”

“The Water Goddess??” another one added, her voice a high, surprised squeak. “That…that can’t be? One of the gods…right here??”

Lanayru tried her hardest to tune out the voices…she had a boy’s life to save.

Healing Grace, please emerge…let me use all your power.

She had never used all of it before. She didn’t even know if this would actually work…this power was limited for others, and in her Realm she never encountered anyone in need of healing, let alone a mortal. But she would do whatever it took, even if it was risking her own health, her own life…

Although Lanayru could never die. Not permanently, at least.

People were huddled around the boy now, checking for breathing, a pulse…any signs of life. Their shouts and pleas were frantic, and it all reduced to ringing in the Goddess’s ears as she held her hands out, glowing white with the precious healing magic.

Dropping to her knees, she shot her hands forward, all of the Healing Grace absorbing itself around the boy in a matching white glow, some of it entering through his nose, his mouth, even going straight through his chest.

Please work please work please work…

She had done everything she could now.

And the boy opened his eyes, gasping in a lungful of air as he coughed and spluttered, water gushing out of his mouth, and the others quickly crowded around him. It took a few more seconds for the Healing Grace to fully take effect…and the healthy pink color returned to his cheeks once more. He smiled softly, letting out a chuckle…it was almost as if the whole thing never happened.

Overjoyed shouts and relieved sighs rang through Lanayru’s ears, and she beamed happily.

It worked…

But a wave of fatigue overcame her, almost all at once.

Some of the people around the boy seemed to be thanking her, but she slowly took a few steps away. Each step was becoming harder to take as her shoulders sagged and her head lolled forwards…

No. She quickly snapped it back up, and the world spun around her.

He will be okay. Now summon your symbol.

As she sank to her knees, black dots creeping into the corners of her vision, she slowly held out her left hand, palm facing skyward.

Through her now fuzzy mind, it took the last remaining strength she could muster to swirl the magic around her hand, the four raindrops appearing in a cross shape. To her the drops were blurry and disoriented, merely swirling shapes and colors, but they were there nonetheless.

You did it.

With a sigh of relief, the Water Goddess let her eyes slip closed, her hand falling limp by her side.

…

The sea of emptiness slowly began to recede, marking Lanayru’s return to awareness. Her body felt weightless, as if she was floating through the sky.

Ever so slightly, she stirred, noticing the soft material underneath her. She could recognize the sensation anywhere...My bed.

She had made it home.

“Your Grace?” a soft, muffled voice called out. “Are you with me?”

Lanayru cracked one eye open, to see a blurry figure standing in front of her, before letting it droop closed again. She shifted, stretching out her arms with a satisfied hum…which came out as more of a mumble.

“Thank the Goddesses.” The voice- a Dweller- let out a sigh. “I mean, um…that includes you. If you weren’t immortal, you could have died.”

Really?

“That was an incredibly brave thing you did out there. I am delighted to tell you…the boy has been doing just fine; you saved his life.”

Finally, she could find the strength to open her eyes. When she did so, the Dweller’s short and slender form was much clearer.

“H-hi,” she muttered, giving him a weak smile.

“Hello,” he replied. “Welcome back, Your Grace.”

“How…how long?”

“You were asleep for…a long time.” The Dweller paused. “…Two months.”

Two months??

Her arms were weak and tired, but still she put her elbows in front of her body and hoisted herself up to sitting. As her messy golden locks swept around her pale face, she frowned slightly. Her hair was…different. Perhaps a bit longer.

“Oh yeah.” The Dweller continued with a chuckle. “Your hair grew out a little.”

“Well…that makes sense, I guess.”

Lanayru let out a long yawn, briefly covering her mouth with her hand. Her fingernails, too, were badly overgrown and in need of a trim, the baby blue polish mostly chipped off.

“We have been waiting so long…Two months ago, you appeared in the teleportation circle frail and unconscious, we knew you weren’t dead, but you really gave us a fright there.”

“I…I’m sorry- I didn’t mean…”

“Don’t be. We figured it out anyway…using all of your healing powers at once like that is incredibly draining. That’s not what they’re made for. And you weren’t made to spend time down there. But we mustn’t scold you, for you were a true hero that day.”

Her cheeks flushed pink, and she found herself unable to look the kind Dweller in the eye.

“It was the least I could do,” she replied, voice almost a whisper.

For a second she wondered if her actions had indeed killed her. Of course that didn’t matter…she would have come back instantly. It was how she was made. The world couldn't afford to lose their precious Water Goddess.

“Now that you’re back with us, we have a lot of work to do.” The Dweller gave her a soft smile, and she lifted her gaze to meet his, now feeling comfortable enough to do so. “First, though, I must tell you something very important.”

She hesitated, fidgeting nervously with her dress. “What…is it?”

“Your Grace, in the mere two centuries of your existence you have displayed incredible selflessness…you never want to see a mortal suffer, you spend so much time making sure their water is beautiful…and now what you just did. I am proud to inform you that you have gained another domain.”

What?? Her heart raced in her chest, as she stared with wide eyes at the Dweller. Another domain?

“I have…? Really?”

“Indeed. You are now Lanayru, the Goddess of Water and Generosity.”

At first she couldn’t find words…she was speechless. Why am I the one being rewarded, when others need help? None of this made any sense…

“Wow, I…I can’t believe it,” she gushed. “For me? I don’t need any reward-“

“Your Grace, it has been given to you already. Out of all the Gods, you have proven yourself the most worthy for this. Once a domain has been handed to you, there’s no giving it back.”

So I should be proud of this, then.

If it could be used to help others further…she would make the most of this new gift.

“Well, I am honored.” She grinned at the Dweller, eyes gaining their sparkle once more. “I will do my best to fulfill it.”

…

And so she did.

Throughout the next millennium, she strengthened her generosity domain each day like a small child. It may be a secondary one, but it is just as important to her as her water domain, and she vows to keep her promises forever.

After all this time, some of her memories have faded, blurring together in the back of her mind, but she still recalls that moment clear as day. She always will.

While she gives the mortals water to keep them alive, she also protects them from the dangers of it.

#the goddess lanayru #there’s a few skyward sword references in here #kinda #tw drowning (but there’s no death) #the dwellers are the beings that live in her realm #i don’t know what else to call them so they’re dwellers ig #bailey writes #also the format is kinda shit #so if things are wonky i apologize for that

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 10- keep me from my grave

"Well, don't sing me praise. Just keep me from my grave." -Me Against the Devil by The Relentless

Main Masterlist Regent Series Part 9

They met at a bookstore. 

It had been almost two full months since the Joker had met his end, his head mounted and strangely not decomposed, with Jason returned to the Batfamily Gotham had settled into a lull. Not a quiet one, but a lull nonetheless. 

Jason was taking a break from sorting through cases with Dick, head throbbing from the lack of sleep and patience for annoying siblings wearing thin. 

The bookstore, tucked away in a quiet part of Old Gotham, was often empty of people during the day. Despite its large bay windows, comfy seating and welcoming atmosphere, the Page-Turner would remain a hidden gem to the city dwellers. For Jason, it was a haven he could never feel bad about keeping to himself. 

He’d branched out from classics some time ago, deciding to try other genres he’d long since ignored for the Bard, meandering around the shelves to find a title that caught his eye. 

It was between the mysteries and thrillers that he found her. 

Her. 

She was sitting on the ground with her back pressed against the thriller shelves, slender jean-clad legs tucked towards her chest to cradle a book, eyes never straying from the pages, red hair tied into a low ponytail with what looked like a small braid tucked behind one ear. Jason couldn’t tear his eyes away from her soft features, desperately wanting her eyes to meet his, her lips to offer him a smile and her hands to cradle his own.

 For the first time in his life, Jason finally understood what the regency novels meant by love at first sight… because the man was halfway there already. 

The Page Turner was a haven admist the chaos that was Jazz’s life, especially once she finally admitted to herself and Danny that she needed help to manage her depression. Her little brother was concerned, but also relieved when she confronted the elephant in the room first. He’d been weary of bringing it up himself, not wanting to worry her more. 

(Silly brother.)

(It was her job to worry.)

Nonetheless, Jazz asked around among the living and dead for a therapist recommendation, which she was correct about it being difficult in Gotham, but Jazz didn’t want to branch out just yet. A toss up between disbelief and enthusiasm awaited her, but she didn’t let it deter her from contacting the recommended psychologist- Harleen Quinzel. 

A bit awkward to be in a session with the reformed rogue, dutifully ignoring whatever lingering shades wanted her attention. Harley was a great listener, more importantly she cared about Jazz as a patient, as a human being. Whatever Bozo the Clown had done to her, what she had survived, had given Harley a new lease on life with his death (ironically). 

“It sounds like ya never been allowed to simply be, Jazz.” Harley spoke plainly and evenly, her brooklyn accent barely clipping her words. The redhead had spoken of her childhood, her brother’s death, the neglect.

Opened up about the nightmares, how Danny’s destroyed grave haunted her. Let the truth spill from her lips, free to simply exist in the space between the two women. Sure, Jazz would never spill secrets about the Realms, but where it concerned her guilt, or lack thereof, about the blood on her hands- yes, Jazz knew Harley wouldn’t judge her. 

And it was true, Jazz had no childhood. She was Danny’s caretaker, his first memory, his first steps towards, the first to have his back. There had never been just Jazz, only Jazz and Danny. Every dream she’d once had, broken and scattered in the ashes of Danny’s grave. 

(Danny had no hope of reaching the stars, of being an astronaut, with his death.)

“Sweetie, Danny sounds like he is capable of taking care of himself for a while. Have you considered finding a hobby?” Harley questioned, sincere in her wish to help. 

Jazz sighed, “I wouldn’t know where to begin.” What did she have outside her little brother and work as Regency? 

“Do ya like to read?” 

Jazz huffed, finding amusement with that question. Of course she liked, no, loved to read. It had been her one escape from the nightmares so long ago, but she hadn’t found the time since taking regency to lose herself in a good book. 

Harley didn’t need her to respond, offering a sincere smile in response to Jazz’s lack of reply. 

“There’s a bookstore in Old Gotham, the Page Turner, ya could check out? There’s no pressure to pick up a book, but it would be enough to just get through the door, yeah?” 

“I’ll try.” 

“That’s a good start.” 

As it was, Jazz wasn’t able to find time between Realms Work and patrol to do anything other than sleeping, eating, and various other tasks that filled her days (and nights). The more it itched at her, to listen to the therapist she liked, the more Jazz wanted to read a book. To get lost in a good story, just like she used to. 

Patrols were harder with Hood back, his haunt under his command once more and streets protected by a vigilante in red. Only twice in the few weeks since Jason had been moved from her side to the batcave had the Regent caught a glimpse of him, both as his nighttime persona, and from a distance Jazz hadn’t been able to sense him as clearly as previous. He did seem healthier with the pure ecto and his Proto-Core, though Jazz was in no mood to test her luck by crossing into his Haunt. 

The girls were sad to see the Regent less, even though Jazz remained firmly in the Phantom haunt and was barely a few minutes away at any given time, but it was the principle of the thing. The Regent was one of the good ones and a woman at that. A woman who could kick ass wasn’t rare, but it was rare that they would take up a vigilante role for the occupants of the Alley. 

Red Hood, while awesome and respected by his people, was a man. 

Some of the girls were gradually drifting into the Phantom haunt, or a shitty part of Old Gotham that bordered on the Alley. Regardless of it’s quality it belonged to the Phantom Fraid… and Phantom was a Protector Spirit. 

(With the Regent and the Phantom, crime was all but extinct in their haunt.)

With the decrease in crime, Jazz was finally able to dematrilize her armor, set down her sword and enter the Page Turner. 

A distinct mix of old books, ink, and some kind of body spray welcomed the redhead once she stepped inside, intrigued by the sense of calm that greeted her in place of a human. 

Which was fine, Jazz preferred to browse in peace. 

Grateful for the shelves being categorized, Jazz found herself enthralled by a thriller (They Never Learn by Layne Fargo) and didn’t notice another person in the aisle until they were within arm’s reach. 

Jazz flinched back, embarrassed by her lack of focus and attention to her surroundings, dangerous when one is a vigilante in Gotham. She greeted the man in front of her after a few moments of awkward silence, his stare making the redhead even more embarrassed, but now by her appearance. She'd been too tired to fuss with her hair or clothes beyond ensuring the orange-red strands were brushed into a semblance of order and her clothes were somewhat decent. 

(Jazz was more concerned with her bracelets being concealed under glamour and sleeves.)

(The metal, eternally cool against her warm skin, offered some comfort in times like these.)

(She was the Lady of the Acropolis, once student of Pandora, the Ancient of Peace.) 

(There is nothing that can make her feel lesser without her consent.) 

“Uh, hi.” 

(Oh how eloquent, Jasmine.) 

“Hi.” The deep voice, smooth and accented like a native Gotham, made Jazz finally move her gaze from his chest- nice chest as it was, it was his eyes that made her breath rush from her lungs. 

Jason. 

.....Jason!

(Oh yes, Jazz picked a good day to walk into the Page Turner.) 

(She was finally able to talk to her dream man.)

(She wasn’t disappointed.) 

(And by the smiles they had as walked away, neither was Jason.) 

A/N:

This isn't the best, I know. Hey, they finally meet! Keep an eye for the updated masterlist, because I'll be putting the link up and changing some of the chapter titles. Thanks for reading!

Update: “They Never Learn” by Layne Fargo is an actual book, with a female Anti-Hero who kills bad men. I don’t want to say more because I’ll spoil something, but it’s a great book.

#dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dpxdc #jazz fenton #regent!jazz #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jason todd #they finally meet! #with jason now awake for it

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

Almost finished reading Dungeon Meshi and I got an idea

So in Dungeon Meshi or Delicious in Dungeon, there are these... dungeons.

And from what I have gathered dungeons can be made naturally or artificially but both types have the same few things in common.

They are made to contain demons

They attract adventures

The dungeons have lords who manage/control the dungeon and are given the power to do so by the demons

I know that I'm skimming over some important bits, but long story short, the demons come from an alternate dimension called 'The Infinite Realm' and feed off of people's desires, the Lord of the Dungeon's specifically.

That being said... (incoming dp x dc prompt)

Beings from the Infinite Realms aren't ghosts but demons. And while they do still have obsessions, they lack desires. And so, they've become something they hunger for.

Danny learns this the hard way when he accidentally eats his parents' desire to hunt 'ghosts'.

When the endless, all-consuming hunger, that had been growing inside himself became just a bit satisfied by the action, he got scared. He ran to Clockwork, who immediately explained everything to him.

From there he became terrified. He didn't want to eat people's desires, especially considering that he had some of his own. But CW explained that while other demons will most likely never be satisfied no matter how many desires they consume, because of Danny's halfa status he may be able to. (Also it would be a bad thing if the baby starves itself. No one wants the baby to starve!)

To test out this theory, CW pulls (more than) a couple of strings, and soon his dungeon was set up in Gotham City in the DC universe.

He felt a bit bad since he had to set up shop in another ghost's/demon's territory, but Lady Gotham seemed to have taken a liking to him.

Danny takes his time searching for the most desperate person he can find, (Lady Gotham is leading him to some of the most desperate people in her city, aka the Batfam.), and appears to one of them as a fawn (signifying his hunger and current 'lack' of power). He then looks deep into their mind and offers them the power to fulfill all their desires.

The Batfam? They should be better than this, but damn they were in a tight spot and the city is going to shit because the rouges have been more active than ever, and their family is on the verge of crumbling!... And the answer to fix it all was right there, just within their reach.

They held the fawn in their arms gently. Its ivory wings, coat of starlight, and piercing Lazurus green eyes. Gotham began to change.

A few years later, some members of the JL and the JLD are once again trying their hand at clearing the dungeon but are a bit discouraged because last time their team was wiped out completely.

It was inconvenient how their powers were nullified whenever they were inside the dungeon, but they had yet to find a spell to counteract it.

In an attempt to get past the third floor, they teamed with a team called Team Phantom, which comprised two young adult siblings, their 12-year-old sister, and a few teenagers.

Morally, they were against this. No one this young should be trying to clear the dungeon! But on the other hand, this team was the closest to getting to the fourth floor.

Sucking it up, they teamed up with the young dungeon dwellers and quickly found out why they were so close to getting to the third floor.

These kids were skilled. These kids were powerful. These kids were trained. On top of that, they didn't care about their lives! Because these kids? They wouldn't- no! They couldn't die, and they were using it to their advantage.

The JL/JLD now had much more to worry about than clearing the dungeon.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc prompt #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dp dc crossover #inspired by dungeon meshi #go read it #or watch it #Danny likes delicious meals so he chooses complex people #it could be a single Batfam member that becomes the lord of the dungeon #if thats the case any of them could work #but the batfam as a whole? #*maniacal laughter* #We all know who team phantom is soooo #if Gotham wasn't a hub for the supernatural before it certainly is now #this was a ploy made by CW and LG so that the baby wouldn't starve itself #they didn't expect it to go like this #this is also me pushing my 'Danny is a cool biblically accurate space deer god looking thing with wings thats so wynorrific #it drives you mad by looking at him but you can't fucking stop so you're stuck in the madness of his horrifying beauty' agenda #also #Danny becomes extremely morally grey in this #not good #not evil #just hungry #sorry if this is shit i wrote the first half half asleep and the next half the next morning when I had lost the idea #*cries* #*sobs*

[msrhaxoz]

Otto's biography

I want to share with you the backstory of my Tav. This is the story before the events of the game. His name is Otto. He is a bard/rogue, trickster with an ambiguous character and a lucky guy with a love of life. He's also a bit of an idiot. Enjoy!

In the depths of Otto's memories lies a foggy recollection of his early years. Yet, through the haze, a handful of cherished moments with his family still shine bright.

Hailing from the dark depths of the Underdark, Otto's family carved out a life far from the bustling heart of the dark elf city, nestled near a temple dedicated to the Dark Maiden. His mother ruled with an iron fist, while his father exuded warmth and kindness. Alongside Otto, the middle brother, stood his siblings: the authoritative Audrey, who played both big sister and second mom and with whom Otto shared both resemblance and interests; and the youngest, Tae. It was Audrey who fostered their shared love for music and dance, though Otto diverged from her in his fascination with magic and warfare. Despite Audrey's attempts to impart basic magical knowledge and combat strategies, the boys often disregarded her guidance and forged their own path.

But the real tale lies in Otto and Tae's bond. Despite their five-year age gap, they were inseparable — so much so that they were often mistaken for twins. Where Otto went, mischief in tow, Tae wasn't far behind. Their connection ran deep, Their connection was so tight that punishment meant for one often extended to the other, under the pretext of "company" and "just in case," as their sister wryly remarked.

Otto exuded a serene aura, seemingly detached from the world around him. His devotion to his goddess knew no bounds; he prayed fervently, joined in the nocturnal rituals with zeal, and found solace in in expressing his emotions through the graceful movements of dance and the soothing melodies of the harp. Despite the mistreatment endured by his fellow drow, Otto remained unmoved, dismissing the tales of the fearsome goddess Lolth as mere myths. Yet, whenever he ventured beyond his secluded realm to gather provisions at his parents' urging, he encountered the disdain of surface dwellers. Thankfully, his protective sister often accompanied him, ensuring his safety amidst the hostility of the outside world.

This marked the sombre conclusion of happier times from the past. At the age of fifty, tragedy struck, forever altering the course of Otto's life. During one of the reverent nights devoted to dancing in honour of the goddess Eilistraee, malevolent dark elves launched a merciless assault on the drow community. The ensuing carnage was unfathomable - nearly all participants in the sacred ceremony were ruthlessly slaughtered by the followers of Lolth. Though Otto's parents were absent that fateful night, he, along with his sister and brother, witnessed the horrifying massacre unfold. Despite Audrey's valiant attempts to resist the attackers, her bravery cost her life, her severed head serving as a grim testament to her sacrifice at her brothers' feet.

Desperate to spare their lives, Otto pleaded with the dark drow, willing to endure servitude or any other fate to ensure his and his brother's survival. Whether out of exhaustion from the night's bloodshed or for other reasons, the drow relented, sparing a handful of captives to serve as slaves. And so, Otto and his brother found themselves thrust into the heart of the city of Menzoberranzan.

Otto spent the better part of his life toiling as a slave, his days consumed by labor in the mines and kitchens hidden beneath the earth's surface. For 137 long years, he lived in the shadows, cut off from the moon's gentle light, gradually losing touch with his goddess, surviving solely by sheer luck - or so he continues to believe to this day.

Despite being forcibly separated, the brothers occasionally crossed paths during their assigned tasks. Otto often found himself consumed by thoughts of Tae, grappling with the harsh realities of their existence and haunted by memories of past horrors. Yet, Tae remained a beacon of hope, preventing Otto from succumbing entirely to despair. As long as his brother endured, Otto found solace in their shared struggle. Despite the hardships, Otto found some comfort in knowing he wasn't alone. However, this hope was short-lived.

Tae endured nearly eight agonizing years of enslavement alongside his elder brother. Over time, the once hopeful drow siblings grew weary, their dreams of freedom fading into the darkness that surrounded them. Despite the dwindling hope, they pressed on, silently bearing the weight of their captivity. Unexpectedly, Otto honed his culinary skills, perhaps finding sustenance and purpose that helped him to linger amidst the darkness that shrouded their existence.

One fateful day, Tae, utterly drained of energy, made a grave mistake in the warden's presence. Exhausted beyond measure, he collapsed under the weight of a heavy load, causing sacks of provisions to spill and inadvertently ensnaring a pair of goblin slaves next to him. Otto, who happened to be nearby, watched the scene unfold before his eyes. As punishment for his blunder, Tae was mercilessly dragged before the hungry rothe, and since he was guilty of depriving them of food, the little slave had to pay for it. To make matters worse, the warden overseeing Tae's punishment happened to be one of the drow responsible for the massacre during the night of Eilistraee worship. Upon recognizing the brothers, the warden, sporting a smug grin, gestured for Otto to approach him as Tae stood by the two wild rothe.

"Rothe may be herbivores, but they possess quite the temper," he taunted Otto with a smirk. "And this pair happens to be the most voracious and vicious of them all." With those chilling words, the drow warden launched a rock at one of the rothe, striking it squarely in the eye. Caught off guard by the sudden violence, Tae gasped in terror, triggering a frenzied response from the hungry beasts. Wild and merciless, they lunged at the defenseless brother, unleashing a barrage of kicks and trampling him underfoot. Frozen in horror, Otto watched helplessly, his hands trembling with silent anguish. His heart felt as though it might burst from his chest as he witnessed the brutal onslaught. Tae's desperate screams pierced the air, drowned out by the sounds of agony and chaos. Blood mingled with tears as Tae's eyes reflected a haunting crimson hue, his neck veins pulsating under the strain of the rothe's relentless assault. With a sickening crunch, Tae's belly was torn open by the beasts' horns, and he fell still only when his head was crushed beneath their hooves, his existence snuffed out in an instant.

And Otto just watched in silence.

He watched as the light faded from his brother's eyes, his gaze unwavering as he bore witness to the final moments of Tae's existence. The drow warden's mocking voice briefly pierced through Otto's numbness. "Perhaps you're not as feeble as you appear. Your selfishness served you well," the drow sneered mockingly.

Otto possessed a sharp intellect and a discerning eye for danger, especially in tense situations. It would have been naive to assume that the dark elves would permit him to aid his brother. With a sinking feeling of dread, he realized this was a blatant provocation. Even if they survived the rothe attack, the wardens would likely execute them both for insubordination, at best. Feeling utterly helpless, Otto made the agonizing decision to live on, letting his brother die alone.

In that moment, a torrent of negative emotions flooded Otto's soul - the suffocating weight of guilt, the insidious selfishness instilled by the warden. The sheer volume of these feelings overwhelmed him, erupting in a chaotic cacophony that left behind a haunting emptiness. Otto experienced a paradoxical sensation of both intense emotion and numbing detachment. Despite the turmoil within, not a single tear escaped his eyes. He knew that, in time, the suppressed emotions would resurface, threatening his sanity. To avoid succumbing to madness, he hardened his body against exhaustion and his mind against the encroaching chaos, embracing a chilling resolve to endure.

The passing century blurred into a directionless existence for Otto, a routine settled into over time, overshadowed by a constant fear of death. He witnessed the brutal executions of disobedient slaves by the drow, observed tears streaming down the faces of tormented men crumbling under the cruelty of the priestesses of Lolth, and watched with detachment as spiders feasted on the anguished cries of goblins. Yet, these harrowing scenes no longer stirred fear within him.

By sheer luck, he narrowly escaped his fate. A riot erupted among the enslaved Minotaurs and Orcs one day, fuelled by the recency of their enslavement, their vigor unchecked by reason. The chaos of the uprising rattled the dark elves, as the Minotaurs and Orcs, in their bid for freedom, wreaked havoc by demolishing nearby structures and liberating the imprisoned rothe. In the midst of the turmoil, with the attention of the Lolth drow diverted towards subduing the larger slaves, it presented the only fleeting opportunity for him to seize his chance at freedom.

Perhaps Otto possessed a natural inclination for stealth, or perhaps he was blessed by the Dark Maiden that fateful night. With meticulous care yet swift determination, he navigated his way out of the city, utilizing every available hiding spot - be it behind corners, haystacks, or barrels. Meanwhile, the other escaped captives drew attention with their frantic and clumsy attempts to flee, providing cover for Otto's silent movements. Step by cautious step, Otto distanced himself

from the chaos, his path guided by the cool touch of cave walls and the enveloping darkness. Despite the uncertainty of his destination or the reason for his flight, he pressed on, driven by an instinctual urge to escape the confines of his captivity.

Emerging from the depths of the Underground, Otto greedily filled his lungs with the crisp air of freedom before hastening onward, propelled by a newfound sense of liberation.

He ran tirelessly, his destination unknown, his only focus on putting distance between himself and his captors. With each stride, he stumbled and fell, only to rise again and resume his frantic pace. Otto pushed himself until his lungs burned, his vision blurred, and his legs threatened to give out beneath him. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him, and he collapsed onto the cool grass, his body spent and gasping for air.

For what felt like an eternity, Otto lay there, struggling to regain his breath, his hands clutching the damp earth beneath him. Despite his fervent desire to rise and continue his flight, the searing pain in his chest rendered him immobile. As he coughed and gasped for air, he forced his eyes open, greeted by the serene expanse of the night sky.

Rolling onto his back, Otto found himself bathed in the soft glow of the full moon, its ethereal light casting a gentle radiance upon the meadow where he lay. In that moment, the young drow felt a sense of peace wash over him, as if the moon itself offered solace and sanctuary to the escaped prisoner. For a moment, the Otto forgot how to breathe, so mesmerised was he by the dark sun. And he finally remembered his goddess.

Tears welled in his reddened eyes, and an uncontrollable laughter bubbled up from his aching chest. Otto groaned, even screamed, burying his face and in his hands, gripping his hair. Turning towards the grass, he inhaled the scent of fresh greenery and damp earth, offering silent gratitude to some unseen force. Mumbling barely audible words, he offered apologies to his brother and sister. Thus, he passed the entire night, seeking refuge in the cool darkness until dawn forced him to seek shelter from the sun's burning rays.

Thus began the dawn of a new life for the former prisoner. Upon the surface, he would once again revel in the joy of music, the gentle strumming of the harp. He would seek out part-time jobs and explore new ways of survival, including, perhaps, resorting to stealing when necessary.

It's worth noting that the trauma of his survival would significantly impact the young man's behaviour. After experiencing a taste of freedom, Otto began engaging in impulsive actions that contradicted his moral compass. Stealing had never been characteristic of him, but the prolonged captivity and initial struggles to earn money pushed him to drastic measures. Thus, he developed kleptomania, an uncontrollable urge to steal even when unnecessary. Additionally, his youthful idealism, which caught up with him later, painted the picture of a naïve and irresponsible individual, despite his advanced mental maturity. He became a person marked by extreme chaos.

Many thanks to @mist1e for translating my text into English. I am very grateful to her for that!

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #drow oc #text #dnd #dungeon and dragons #bard #rogue #menzoberranzan #eilistraee #drow tav #dark elf #my art

[lost-technology]

So, lads, lassies and laird's, I've been watching the Fallout TV series. I'm about halfway through it. The Fallout series are video games that I like a lot - I haven't played them all, but I'm enough of a fan that I've legit made FOOD from The Official Vault-Dweller's Cookbook gifted to me by my late nephew (I was drinking homemade Nuka-Cola yesterday). The super-fans are going to wank and whine about the lore-details, but I take it as its own entry and am enjoying it so far (even though I miss the NCR). I'm actually SURPRISED that a live-action show based on video games is as good as it is. (They usually suck, this is pretty good...) Anyway, just what does this have to do with Trigun (other than both things taking place in post-apocalyptic desert settings)? Well, there is the 200+ year old guy (ghoul) with the long shot up duster which I addressed on this blog before as "Perfect wardrobe - if anyone makes a live action Trigun, pay attention to this). Cooper isn't quite the "Vash" here, though... his morals are more... Wolfwood? Left of Wolfwood? He's actually an excellent study in broken morals as he used to be a very decent guy in his pre-war life... No... it's how main character Lucy is giving me some inspiration. Lucy is the Vault-Dweller. She comes from a sealed underground Vault that her ancestors fled into to escape the bombs. The Vaults, however, were never meant to save anyone. Lucy's Vault currently has a population-problem (everyone's getting incesty), it's connected to two other Vaults and there's a trade-thing going on, including for breeding, but there's definitely something weirder going on that the series is unfolding... And everyone in her Vault is super-idealistic. They're all peaceful people who live by peaceful ways and they have an agriculture-area (NOT AT ALL unlike the Geoplant-room / recreation room of a SEEDS ship!) that is set up to simulate Nebraska. So when Lucy goes out into the outside world in her quest to find her kidnapped father (is stuff that happens in episode 1 really a spoiler???) she's just very... trying to do things peacefully and with good morals in this... wrecked and horrible world. She cites The Golden Rule a lot. But then... she gets quickly and progressively "grittified." She has to do some awful things to survive and carry out her quest, although she actually sticks to her moral code. (So far, I've only seen her directly kill once, in self-defence, and it is arguable that the subject was in the realm of not-human-anymore and death-was-a-mercy) and she was shocked by it. And immediately after, she did a kindness to someone who betrayed her simply because she decided that she was not going to let the world change her. "I will never become you." Reminded me of Vash a bit - Born in a sealed metal spaceship with artificial environs, not unlike a Vault (save that SEEDS was actually meant to save Humanity, not experiment on it, not that...um...experiments didn't happen *tugs collar*). The SEEDS folk that we meet (Rem, Luida, Brad) seem to come from an optimistic, idealistic perspective in contrast to the survival-world of the desert planet. Instead of a world to colonise / recolonise according to a peaceful plan sold to their ancestors, it's a dog-eat-dog nasty world where murder is common. And yet, Vash sticks to his guns and keeps to ideals and doesn't let him change him for the worse by his own hard-won decision, in spite of absolutely everything. This, of course, also has me thinking of my WIP fanfic in which Rem survives and what I was doing in direction in that with her and continued survival having to face a post-Fall world and no longer being a pedestal-figure for Vash, but having to be a real person and surprising him and gaining grit (in a strictly in-character way). So, of course the story of this TV series, being what it is, is jogging my brain.

#trigun #trigun maximum #trigun stampede #fallout #fallout tv series #trigun fanfiction #fanfiction inspiration #one man and a crate of puppets

[teehee-vibes]

Alright, list of headcanons/ideas/hopes for The Owl House cast after Belos is defeated and locked away or dead due to his own ambitions (give me your additions and thoughts, I will if I come up with more):

The Portal Door is recreated, but kept a secret from all human realm dwellers (sans Camilla and Vee). Luz travels back and forth between realms regularly, and sometimes, people tag along with her. She introduces demon realm culture to her family, and human world culture to her second family.

By extension, Gus indulges in human culture with ecstasy! He plans to one day foster a mindset where the demon realm can be well received by humans. However, he acknowledges that not all humans are open to the idea quite yet. In the meantime, he visits zoos for giraffe feedings and travels to major cities to visit prestigious museums. He shows off a lot of his findings, replicating them with illusions, and he inspires fascination with the other world across the entire Boiling Isles.

Luz fulfills her secondary dream of becoming a an author. She writes a narrative about her childhood AND her time in the Boiling Isles. In the human realm, it’s a best-selling fictional narrative about coming of age, found family, and trust. In the demon realm, it’s still a best-seller, but it’s treated as it really is: an autobiography and primary source from the rebellion against the tyrant, Emperor Belos.

Luz actually publishes additions to the original work, including additional history and other primary sources (like a replica of Darius’ draining spell diagram, sheet music for “Raine’s Rhapsody,” Luz’s various artworks regarding the major plot). The sources were put together with cool aunt Lilith’s assistance. In the human realm, she is, unfortunately, credited as anonymous for the sake of witch kind.

Eda and Raine get married. This one’s just a given. Luz helps plan it, and it’s very human and witchy at the same time. It makes Eda happy to see Luz happy, so she and Raine go along with a lot of the plans. Lilith is maid of honor, while Luz and Amity are both bridesmaids. Darius is the best man, and he gives a surprisingly tender speech about his friendship with Raine while also roasting the hell out of them. He doesn’t cry (he does cry). Hunter is a spouse’s man. So are the BATTs. Willow handles the flora. King and Eberwolf are flower girls. Hooty is the ring bearer, to everyone’s chagrin.

Eda remains an excellent mother and wild witch. She continues her life pretty normally, flaunting her prowess and scamming people (teaming up with Edric more often). She is treated with more respect, and she’s seen as a champion for those with life-altering curses. She helps those affected with one live with it, telling how she learned to accept her own.

King begins seeking out the history and real strength of Titans, learning to fully embrace his lineage. He also strives to help others treat “idols” with respect and empathy.

Raine goes back to being the teacher they wanted to be originally! They apply to be a bard teacher at Hexside, so they can give good education to Hexside students. All of the Bard-track students brag about how good Professor Whispers-Clawthorne is. They teach their students the whistle trick, and they all swear to not share the trick with others. They never do. They keep an orange flower in a pot on their windowsill at all times. Before moving in with Eda, they fly/walk with Hunter to school everyday.

Speaking of Hunter, he enrolls at Hexside. The environment there made him feel unsafe, but in the safer way! The people there are good to him, too. The teachers love having him in class because of his utter passion for learning. Like Luz, the curious overachiever, he tries to study all the tracks at once. Principal Bump, still in charge, takes quite a liking to him. In addition to participating in Flyer Derby with the Emerald Entrails, he joins the Clawthornes and Bat Queen and volunteers to help with Palisman adoptions, helping those like his beloved Flapjack find good matches for themselves after tragedy.

Darius’s excellent skincare routine can only do so much. Eventually, being middle aged catches up to him. Barely. He develops smile lines on his cheeks. At first, he frets a bit. But he gets used to them eventually. After all, it’s just a sign that he’s been laughing more. He does play a major role in Hunter’s life, primary caretaker or not.

Willow proceeds as Captain of the Emerald Entrails. After she graduates from Hexside, while most of the others move on for other things (Hunter still holds a passion for the game and keeps at it with her for longer), she continues with the sport! Not only does she go on to the big leagues as an adult, as the witch she wants to be, but she’s basically an inspiration to other young witches. She campaigns proudly for the sport, hoping that it will one day be just as embraced as Grudgby and that others can use it as a mental outlet.

Lilith strives to right Belos’s and Flora’s wrongs. She publishes book after book debunking Belos’s praise and the incorrect history he wrote. She makes exhibits in museums about the culture that was lost on the Isles, hoping that truthful education will encourage others to embrace the good parts. She also eventually accepts Steve’s therapy recommendation and learns not to undervalue herself to so-called superiors.

This is all I can think of right now! I’ll probably add more eventually, and I want to hear other ideas too.

#the owl house #toh #the owl house spoilers #toh spoilers #the owl house headcanon #toh headcanon #toh speculation #the owl house speculation #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king clawthorne #raine whispers #gus porter #willow park #lilith clawthorne #hunter toh #darius toh

[bloobluebloo]

have you ever played splatoon 1? if yes, what's your opinion on the way the gameplay handles in-universe propaganda (having the main characters give you biased information and getting more accurate information through collectibles)? do you think it's something that would work in zelda games? (also, if you haven't played splatoon you should, i think you'd love octavio)

SPLATOON! See Splatoon is ideally the sort of game setting that I enjoy. I have played Splatoon 1. Then I bought Splatoon 2 and played a bit. And then never bought Splatoon 3. I still have games in their shrink wrap my backlog is so big. I still need to finish Fire Emblem Engage 😭

Ehem! In any case! To answer your question! I have indeed played Splatoon 1! Now I think fundamentally, the way Splatoon and Zelda impart information to the player is not all that different. Even in Zelda, we learn information that is more "accurate" aka information that will allow a glimpse of how the side you are fighting for isn't essentially guiltless. We have instances like the Shadow Temple and the Arbiter's Grounds, which shows the merciless side of the Royal Family, and being able to interact with the Gerudo in OoT and draw conclusions as to how they really are despite the overt racism the rest of Hyrule displays towards them, to name a few. What is different between the two, however, is how that information is framed. In Splatoon, you learn that the Inklings and the Octarians are fighting for survival essentially, for the remaining dry land. Of course the characters will impart biased information to you as the player as they are interested in preserving their own people. The losing party, in this case the Octarians, were forced to flee and hang onto survival in ancient human shelters. We learn that at some point in time the Octarians and the Inklings had worked together, so why is this no longer the case? Is it greed and fear at their shrinking landmass that caused their alliance to fracture, that they couldn't come to some sort of agreement on how to use their resources? The game still eventually makes you view the Octarians as your enemy, because in the grand scheme of the story they are your enemy, but the lore that you learn frames it as the inevitability that comes with the consequences of war and the scarcity of resources aka there isn't really a good side or a bad side, it is just what it means to live in a post-apocalyptic world, maybe in a way an inheritance of human greed and their need for survival.

In Zelda, however, the way the story is framed is different. Even though we learn of the misdeeds of Hyrule and the Royal Family, there is no consequence attached to their actions. When they persecuted the Sheikah, and unjustly so, for their possession and knowledge of Sheikah technology, the Sheikah were either forced to concede and live out their lives peacefully or rebel and forever become an outlawed group in Hyrule. The people who were imprisoned in the Twilight Realm were never really paid any reparations from Hyrule; their evil status was maintained, and the onus was on Midna to understand that the dwellers of light were not all that bad. Her solution was to destroy the mirror of twilight, forever severing her world from Hyrule, which says a lot doesn't it. The Shadow Temple acknowledges that the Royal Family tortured and killed any dissenting voices and those they considered an enemy, but that is not really ever brought up in a context where it is considered a wrongdoing. There is also something to consider here, and that is that Zelda's lore presents, objectively, that Hylians and the Hyrulean Royal Family are favored by the gods. This isn't even propaganda; this is in-game fact. We, as players, can see that it follows the pattern of propaganda that imperialist nations tend to spread to legitimize their rule, but in the game's story it isn't presented in that way. So, unlike the Octarians and the Inklings who are equal factions vying for control over land for the sake of survival, the lore is objectively telling you, all things considered, that there is always one side that is already favored, and that is the side that will be the one that is good. For something like Splatoon to work in LoZ, LoZ's lore would need major tweaking. For one, it would have to present Hyrule's enemy, whoever it is, as truly having legitimacy for opposing Hyrule. It would also have to go out of its way to demonstrate that, in some shape or form, that godly favor does not make one good, it just makes one more powerful and influential. It would have to change in a way where you are shown that maybe you aren't necessarily fighting for good and preservation of light and peace, but essentially for your own survival and the survival of the people you care about. The cost is not the defeat of the ultimate evil, but instead the loss of the survival that your enemy is also fighting for. It would have to put both the plight of Hyrule and her enemies on the same level. We came close to that in the Wind Waker, where Daphnes had urged Link and Tetra to find their own land, free of Hyrule's old history but, as we can see, we have backpedaled quite hard on that, with Hyrule's imperialism being framed as the ultimate good. (I LOVE OCTAVIO, he reminds me so much of OoT Ganondorf, sometimes I call him DJ Squidorf just for my own amusement)

#ganonthots

[illarian-rambling]

I suppose I can call this a very late STS ask but even if not I’ve been curious for a while - you’ve talked about the siren empire and their views on land-dwellers a lot but I’m curious about how they treat their own people. What’s it like being a siren? I know they have pretty harsh punishments and Sepo seems to remember the food fondly but I’d love to know anything else you want to share :)

1 A.M. is close enough to Saturday for me

Sirens, by and large, live very normal lives. It's easy to forget this, especially for humans who only see their Singer-Priests when they're out sinking ships, but a majority of sirens have never even been to the surface, much less seen a human. They have apartments and convenience stores down there, theaters and libraries and public parks too. They work mostly mundane jobs or go to school. They love elthuryah (chess basically) tournaments and wine smuggled in special containers from the surface is enjoyed as much as its vintners are despised. Generally, they treat each other no better or worse than humans do other humans.

The one thing is the theocracy. Sirens are brainwashed from the moment they're born into thinking that they are the superior people, that they were made in their god's image and everyone else is a mocking imitation that must be exterminated for its own good. A siren could watch a human die as easily as a human might watch a prayer candle burn. Everything from their entertainment to their education is carefully curated by the Silver Sovereign and her temple to reiterate this cruel way of thinking.

This is why heresy is a big no-no for sirens. When Sepo killed the Silver Sovereign's heir, he killed the future mouthpiece of the Great Anglerfish. Also, the Silver Sovereign is an absolute monarch, so her punishment for him wasn't limited by laws or anything. Given that he killed her only daughter and burnt down her palace, she gave him the worst punishment she could think of---Voiceless and left for monster food. The siren populace was on board with this because, with all the propaganda they're fed, all they knew was that this guy tried to kill the mouthpiece of their god for no reason.

So yeah, daily siren life is pretty normal aside from all the propaganda and regular temple visits. Sirens don't even know those things are odd because why would they? They usually deeply love the temple, especially given the free medical treatment priests provide. Seluthena and the rest of the Ulahdrian empire is a fine place to live when it comes to security and a career. This is why it's so rare for sirens to leave. No sane person would give all that up for a surface world they've been taught all their life is the realm of false-faced demons and a hateful sun.

It's 1984 the fish version down there, basically. Hope this answered your question and thanks for the ask!

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #author

[shattered-realm-twisted-reality]

PART TWO: Thoxa’s Voice

(This is the beginning of Thoxa's tale, her links with the wider world of SRTR, and the beginning of a great adventure for a small wanna-be idol! Please forgive any spelling/grammar issues, I'm not the best editor!) From an early age there had always been a rumor, a passed down story that was still believed within the little community in the Crystal Caverns. Everyone had some sort of taint from the Crystals all around them. The goblins had adapted best of all being the first of the cave dwellers. They knew the magic in the shining walls. Crystal Goblins as they were now called, had been the first because of their mysterious ancestor bringing her family here and raising them within the caverns and their wealth of resources and safety within the large network of cave systems, spread worldwide.

“Fae folk created the caverns,” Graying sparkling goblin grandmas would whisper by the hearth at night. “There was a great war among them, as humanity began to crawl out of its cradle. They created a twin world, a shining realm—but their conflict shattered it. It’s said the magic collapsed into the Earth, spreading like a virus through the Underground.” Wide eyed listeners would admire the formations all around them, the gently glowing cyan and pink and every color in between. Pulsing with life, with ancient power that worked in unpredictable ways. Another rumor about these mysterious Fae was far more substantial when those who explored outside the caves came back with tales about a mysterious forest at the base of the mountain. It was a beautiful and confusing place, and no matter what the weather was, the closer they got to it the warmer and more spring-like it became, and the sun would seem to set. This was enough to deter most: they needed to get home before dark. If they ventured on, they’d begin to find structures that seemed to be made of crystals: great cracked pillars shining stories high, or crumbling walls and roads. Eventually though, before they could explore further, the outsiders would feel dizzy and then return to their original path, the forest now behind them.

“It has to be Fae folk, still out there. No other kin or kind can do such tricks.” The elders of the caves would say among one another, shaking their heads. “Best to steer clear, it’s more than we can understand.”

These rumors are the mysteries of the Underground, the world Thoxa has always known. Born to simple farming folk in the Southern Reaches of the Caverns, she was eagerly independent from a young age, knowing that someday the tunnels could lead her to new and exciting places, much like that ancient ancestor learned. The rumors of fae, of the magic, of course always fascinated her–she loved the glittering power of the crystals, how they took her over from a young age, growing from her smooth skin, little glowing gems. Even her stretch marks seemed to show she was a glowing crystal herself, cracking over her glowing skin like a geode. “Built-In Glam!” She’d call it, also obsessed with any little trinket about pop stars, idols, as well as fashion and music of all kinds. She began to learn the tunnels around her home well, making friends and exploring the Above, usually little suburban neighborhood dumps where she could find discarded CD’s and tapes, ripped clothes and out of style magazines. Her glowing skin and eyes made these trips work best at night, when they aided her in searching for her treasures. She’d make herself little shows in abandoned small caves, bending over tees to bedazzle them and lip syncing to decades old Britney. When she reached maturity, these girlish fantasies never seemed to die along with the rest of her childhood dreams. Eventually Thoxa was on her own, packing her things and setting off to live further into the mountains, finding some friendly locals to share a home with for protection’s sake, and because well–life is lonely in the Underground without some cavemates.

It was this same mountain that those who explored Above said the Fae Forest was. When she heard that, she became excited–glittering faeries were another childhood dream of sorts, but the forest alone sounded beautiful. Whole towers of crystal? She had to find out for herself. However she was used to striking out at night, so plotted her journey and set out after dusk, her eyes keen on the dark trail. “This way,” She muttered, studying a little hand-drawn map she’d made, based on all that she had researched. Despite the young goblin woman’s silly demeanor, she was rather mature and clever, planning ahead for weeks before setting out. She’d even made sure the weather would be nice, but not too warm. She had to feel the Springtime for herself.

The cave entrance was near the base of the mountain, so thankfully finding her way down the narrow path wasn’t too difficult. Even if some of the steeper drops made her nervous, feet always a bit clumsy. Once at the bottom, she looked around…it was a little hilly landscape, dotted with stands of pine and oak here and there, but not exactly a forest. A landmark–she’d been told that they turned when they reached a big bounder, fallen from the mountain. Which direction, and where the boulder might be, she didn’t know. Gathering a courageous little inhale, she set her repaired hiking boots in the direction of the pines, figuring some trees meant more trees, and the boulder had to roll down straight-ish from the rocky hillside. It felt like hours, going through the nighttime world, on edge to be Above in a still unfamiliar territory.

This wasn’t the quiet Above back home, it was wilderness all around with owls and bats sweeping overhead for their supper, and the slow start of spring frogs chirping from the nearby creek. She saw this world in shades of gray and black, the moon hidden away behind the clouds, but the cave dweller still pressed on, able to clearly see her path and avoid tripping over tree roots. At last a boulder, covered over with moss, called from the right hand side, a big mound in the dark. Rushing over, she put her hand on it with a little laugh, smacking the ancient granite. “HA! Found ya. Now…what next.” She looked around at the trees, closed her eyes, tried to feel the air, get a hint somehow. It was possible she’d find nothing—that the researched stories from old borrowed books and talking with the locals were all too old and the information a true fairy tale now.

Why then did her heart race so much? She was nervous, even fearful of this unfamiliar dark. Biting her lip, she pulled out a cheap set of earbuds, attached to a long outdated Ipod. Music to steady the nerves, but one earbud out and dangling as she made her way towards the old oaks. “B-baby can’t you see, I’m callin’…” She sang nervously under her breath, clutching the map in one hand, her device in the other.

Her feet found a rhythm, a dance, and she began to move forward through the trees, hopeful as they thickened. The music helped, chasing away any spooky vibes with bubblegum stained optimism. She tucked her Ipod into her jacket pocket, shoving the arm up and holding it out as she paused. It was–a little warmer. “Ha, getting’ warmer,” She laughed to herself, and then nearly tripped. Stumbling, she turned to see what had caught her toe–only to gasp at the sight of the biggest single white crystal she’d ever seen, poking casually out of the ground, cracked a little on one side. “Woah.” She crouched, eyes wide as a hand stroked it. “So pretty.” It was still dark, so it glowed like her, but maybe brighter–warmer. It felt warm too, like sunshine had been beating down on it recently. She rose and kept going forward, determined. “I won’t let you turn me away,” She called out in a sing-song. “I know what you wanna do–” She reached into her backpack, taking out a little roll of pink ribbon and a pocket knife. “But I won’t let you confuse me.” She tied a bow around a low branch, and then kept moving. Every few trees, another bow to track her way. If she saw them again ahead, she knew she was being twisted.

However she wasn’t expecting her next find. A great stone and crystal gate–no it was ALL made of the same white quartz, shining and cracked around the edges. Her breath caught and she stopped still, hands tensing at her sides, still carrying the ribbon and map.

“No way…” She reached out, feeling something strange. A sensation that flooded her own emotions, making her fearful of the gate, doubtful of herself. Her hand hesitated before touching it, but when she did it was even warmer. Looking past it, she could see the trees closing in all around, dense and lush, different than before. The air even smelled different, fresher, the hint of nearby running water on the wind. Yet her body seemed to stay still in place, refusing to carry her through the gate. She didn’t have to go through it, she could have gone around—

She smiled to herself. “But that’s not the way we do things, right?” She took another deep breath again and took out her earbuds, tucked the ipod and ribbon into her bag again. All the stories, all the magic simmering in the background of her own existence–here it felt REAL. Like it was undeniable that this gate was purposeful, a trick, a challenge. So she forced her foot forward, with a grunt, then another. “I’m stubborn,” She huffed in defiement. “And too curious. I gotta know why we glow–I gotta know—” She didn’t make sense, she was standing inside the archway now and feeling a wave of dizziness. “It’s a trick,” She huffed, and pushed through. It felt like something sort of gave way, and from one second she was in the chilly forest and the next–someplace entirely. Someplace both beautiful and ruined.

Dusk had settled in, forever. The trees spaced now elegantly and healthy on either side, a cracked and meandering white path dotting through the lush grass under her feet. It was spring, balmy and delightful but not hot. The air smelled like sweet blooms, the sound of a nearby spring burbling away. As she walked, she noticed more cracked crystal, walls, pillars, doorways. Huge shards stuck out here and there, bursting from the soft earth and glowing like sunrise.

“Oh my what a sight.” A little voice chimed out of the tree above, a little blooming maple. Twisting, Thoxa found herself face to face with a little pixie. Dark round eyes shining down from the flowery branches, gossamer lavender and silver hair flowing down around her nude humanoid body, her arms like bird wings with blue and silver opal feathers, her legs feathery and clawed to match.

“I-I could say ditto.” Thoxa finally found her voice, unable to help the uneasy laughter as the little pixie fluttered down, perching on a closer branch as the goblin stepped forward. “What is this place?”

“A place where even the most glittery little goblin should not tread!” Pixie giggled, the sound shrill. “You remind me of a story though. Of a little goblin and a big dragon who live in caves in the mountain. She was shiny too, all ate up by the Glowing.”

“G-glowing, a dragon?!” Thoxa looked around–was this the only faerie here? She was told the Fae all disappeared eons before they knew about them. “H-how…”

“Oh I’ve been here a long time, but this place is frozen in time since—” The Pixie squinted. “Shouldn’t the Veil have turned you back though?”

“I’m guessing that’s the weirdness I felt going through that,” She hooked her thumb at the white archway many yards behind her. The Pixie giggled.

“Oh you are a little fool! Or brave. Or blessed! Who knows. The magic here is wild, returned to Gaia with very few orders in place.”

“I don’t–” Thoxa tried to keep up, not really understanding what the Pixie meant as she suddenly jumped to her feet, fluttering up in front of the goblin’s face.

“Keep going, explore. You might as well—you may never go back to where you came from now!” She giggled as Thoxa’s heart sank with fear, those panicked eyes wide as Pixie whizzed away into the treetops, leaving a little aura of glitter behind her. All around here, there seemed to stir some acknowledgement of her presence–she felt watched.

“I-I can just go back through, right…?” She said, turning—but the archway, the white gate, was gone. Nothing but more cracked towers leaning to one side, crumbling walls. All of it still shining and warm, some covered by moss and vines and wildflowers. A showing of time indeed passing, or simply nature struggling against the ruins. Thoxa moved forward, figuring the Pixie might have been helpful telling her to explore. Maybe something more lay ahead.

And something more did. Over a small hill, she was treated to the sight of an old building, the front walls destroyed entirely, the back and sides crumbling. It revealed the inside like a cracked open dollhouse of what looked to be a once grand room, with colorful stained glass motifs of graceful figures, shattered across their faces. The floor was made of wide tiles, leading up to a platform at the back, shredded tapestries hanging behind what remained of a throne. A creek had dug a path through the room, burbling clean water among the pale soft ruins, moss and grass taking over between the cracks.

As Thoxa drew near, all seemed to grow still and hushed. Her old boots shuffled across the stone, and she felt like she was in a fancy cathedral she had seen in movies, the hole in the ceiling of the place showing the lavender starry sky above. Always dusk. The tapestry shuffled without wind and Thoxa froze in place. “H-hello? I-I’m sorry to have come here–like this,” She began, speaking with uncertainty but compelled to talk to the mysterious chamber around her. “”I’ve always wanted to know–about the magic you know? The crystals have always been around me—they’re inside me.” She touched one stone on her face. “A-and I always thought–the stories of the F-fae were connected, truly. I believed.”

“We are all connected by a greater power,” A smooth delicate voice, not the shrill cry of the Pixie, answered her from behind the throne. A young human-like woman stepped out, as if the air simply breathed her into existence. She was of course taller than the goblin, but still small and willowy, her body clothed in a shift of pearly silk and her hair a shining pale opal–white, then pink, then blue, shifting colors in the dying light of the sun. Her skin even seemed the same, shimmering in a way even the Crystal Goblin’s couldn’t. Her eyes were strange, almost like opals too with no pupil at all. Yet clearly she wasn’t blind as she floated down to Thoxa, tilting her head and smiling a little as Thoxa stepped back. Her movements were unsettling as was her gaze.

“A long time ago, our kind, the Fae as you call them, had a great disaster. I am all that remains of my kingdom now, awakened only briefly in this place…trapped here as an Oracle for the other Courts.” She spoke with a whispering voice Thoxa leaned in close to hear, feeling her body tremble in the presence of this creature. A real Fae, talking to HER.

“I remember little of what caused it–but the violence of the disaster was so great, it cracked the Great Veil, sending Gaia into the Earth weeping–and so her soul, shattered, spread. Into the Underground.” A thin pale hand reached for Thoxa’s own, touching the blue crystal growing there. “It has left its mark so much more than shining rocks. Her magic is unpredictable, Her Will unknowable by even me, one so close to her grave.”

Thoxa felt like sobbing. The woman’s voice was smooth, unfaltering, but the words a melody of sadness, a song of a great tragedy she’d never understand. Kneeling, she shook her head and wiped her teary eyes.

“I-I’m sorry it’s just…” Maybe it was that single touch, a spark from the source. It compelled her to feel what this woman felt, in the realest sense of the word. Like she was sharing her emotions without knowing. The opal woman smiled serenely all the while, watching the goblin try to collect herself. “I also know of Gaia’s influence on one like you, saving you–and now look. You shine from within with the Goddess’ own power, in those shining marks. You knew it all along–you must share something of your ancestor, who was saved.”

“S-saved?” Thoxa blinked, looking up and finally rising. “Oh yes. I remember dreaming of her stirring, of how she felt connected to a goblin on the brink of her own death, a real death, caused by her own outpouring of Mana in the Underground. She reached out and pulled her back, leaving her with the touch of the Goddess. Who knows what might have happened since but clearly it’s had a lasting influence.” The woman paused, seeming to realize something as Thoxa turned over what it meant. What had that first goblin gone through, to nearly die and be saved by a Fae Goddess?! “You have a voice inclined to song,” She muttered thoughtfully after a moment. “It will manifest, if you let it. This Goddess power, this gift through the centuries. Perhaps you are that same soul reborn now for a new purpose.” She shrugged, smiling. “I am an Oracle, even if I feel like a caged one.” “My voice, a gift?” Thoxa chuckled, flushing deep teal at the thought. “Mnn, maybe. I do like to sing. The acoustics in the caverns can be great—” She paused though, frowning. “Why are you caged? Why not be free? Why stay here?” The woman’s emotions flooded her again, wistful and sad. “Many reasons for those many questions. I promise you, I bear it no ill will. It’s my duty now. And you should return—-” “W-wait how? The little…other fairy thing–said I won’t be able to…” “Because I will it. And the Goddess’ Will is in me. I am the Between. I can perform miracles beyond your knowing.” She didn’t say it pridefully, but almost sadly. A great power with great burdens. “Close your eyes.” Thoxa felt compelled to obey, but her heart raced and her mind was spinning like a washing machine with confusion.

The Oracle put her hands gently to Thoxa’s face, brushing those glowing stones. Thoxa gasped, opening her eyes. Suddenly she was in one of the beautiful pools of water in the Caverns, sinking deep, losing air. Reaching up, she felt it was all familiar. The water, the drowning…the way the insides of her, the crystals and the markings, seemed to burn. Blinking again, she was suddenly sitting, soaked and still in her clothes and gear, Alone, in the Caverns. Back home for sure, solid as she sat drenched and confused in the stone pool of clear blue water. “What the hell.” It was a simple statement, not a question, as she slowly stood, shaking off her shoes and climbing out of the pool. Making her way home through the tunnels, she studied the crystals on the walls, on her hands and arms. Every little flickering glow was now a pulse, a connection. To the past, to the Oracle, to the Crystals. She knew her Voice was blessed now, and her connection, while mysterious, was real. Now she had to harness it, use it—her idol dreams were calling.

#lore #worldbuilding #writing #shattered realms twisted reality #goblin #thoxa lore #vtuber lore #original writing

[soulsxng]

List of Realms pt 3

Though the classes themselves are ordered biggest to smallest, the realms in each class aren't. That's gonna bother me now, but when I first made the list, I couldn't be assed to organize them any further than I already had aslkdnfa--

Class 4, 2nd half - Large Size

Hell: Another pretty self-explanatory one. It's considered to be between 1.5 and 1.8 times the size of the Mortal Realm, and is more or less divided into three or four major sections. The "main" area is going to be where most of the demons and other citizens live, and is divided into 9 different kingdoms/countries, or 4 different continents. The next area is one that is considered by some to be part of the main area, and others not so much-- that would be the Dresiae's (or Hell Dweller, as some call them) Territory. It's a smaller area that is home to-- you guessed it-- the Dresiae, their families, some others that migrated to Hell when it was first created, and a few of the extremely old species of demons. Third would be the Pits of Hell, which is where a lot of the "eternal punishment and damnation" business goes on. As such there are a lot of human (and otherwise) souls kept in one half, who are used to sustain Hell as food. And the other half is very much like a prison; somewhere that beings deemed too dangerous to be let on the loose are kept here, as well as others. Lastly would be...honestly Kei and I go between calling it Under Hell, and Hell's basement, haha. This is a secret place where a lot of demonic species that were thought to be extinct, endangered, etc. live their lives-- including God-eaters and Schevulich demons! This got long, whoops, but last little note is that Hell is indeed a living realm. She only really shows herself or otherwise makes herself known to her children (the Princes of Hell), and other Pirodeti.

Oklianim and Stromiel: Much like Ivasso and Malusso, these are two realms that you will VERY rarely hear talked about separately. Where once, it was one realm of similar size to Ennirem, the Pirodeti that embodied it eventually had two children that didn't ultimately get along with each other. When their parent died, they split the realm in two to form Oklianim and Stromiel, and since then the two have almost constantly been at war with each other...though these days, it's more for show than anything. A fact proven by a few times in which they recently decided to team up out of nowhere against another neighboring realm, Semalis.

The Otherworlds: One of the Faerie realms; though this is the biggest of them. It began as a sort of prison for the Tuatha Dé Danann (None of whom are actually deities any longer, but still take on roles of leadership within the realm), but grew over the ages into the proud home of a great many different species of Fae. It's considered one of the most "advanced" realms out there, particularly in fields concerning elemental magics and manipulations. This realm has actually never been a living realm, which is something of a rarity, and is generally sustained by the energy taken from those that are spirited away or tricked by the fae.

Semalis: Technologically, this is the most advanced realm. The amount of latent magic is pretty similar to Gaea, which is to say...there's not a ton of it. This is actually home to one of my favorite species; the Orunsi. Essentially really big beings with skin like metal. Some that have been mentioned on the blog are Qamis and Septe! Anyway, it has a really close bond with Ativere, and protected the little realm from Oklianim and Stromiel for centuries. Also one of the realms with the fewest bodies of water-- most of the land masses (One supercontinent, and two really small continents) actually float in the air! It's no longer a living realm, and despite appearances, stuggles to sustain itself these days. (something that Ativere helps with in return for protection)

#[Worldbuilding] #Yeah you'll see Oklianim and Stromiel mentioned a lot in Ativere's history #So...you'll hear Darrow talk about it every once in a while #Same thing with Semalis #also yeah I think this is the first time I've talked much about how Hell is laid out? #The area where all the souls go is actually only a small part of it #which has led to a lot of conversations in which some of my muses have had to go '...my guy not ALL of Hell is like that.' #'You really think that I would willingly live like that???'

[sparkles-and-galaxies]

do you know what I'd love to see? The story and life of the First Spinjitzu Master.

Like yeah, I'm aware the whole point is to keep him as this sort of distant, mystic figure who nobody truly knows as a person but like. I think it'd be so interesting to then portray him as just Some Guy who was at the wrong place in the wrong time. Like he's born "from the worlds of both the Oni and the dragons", something he didn't really pick, and now he's pestered by both sides to help them win the war, something he definitely didn't choose, and with nothing left to do, he runs away to create Ninjago, then later start a family of his own.

And for some twisted reason, I really, really want him to start out as like. Genuinely a good person who doesn't want to harm anyone and just help. But over the course of his life, he slowly turns more and more arrogant and full of himself, thinking himself higher than other ppl thanks to the power he holds. And he's not like, malicious or anything, he's just kind of insufferable.

Because like. This is brought up in Seabound but barely actually explored (which is a SHAME seriously) that before he arrived, Ninjago was mostly water, inhabited by the Merlopians. So this guy arrives out of nowhere, and sure he helps defeat Wojira, which is good, but then he self-imposedly tasks himself with being the god of this realm, and basically destroys half the living place of oceanic creatures by creating the continent of Ninjago. And we know this hurt the Merlopians bc this event is what Kalmaar constantly brings up as the reason behind his hatred towards surface-dwellers. In Kalmaar's (and most likely at least some of the Merlopians') eyes, the FSM, and by proxy all his creations, are conquerors who took their land sea away.

So it's not like there aren't grounds for a sort of corruption arc.

Another thing I'd love to see in this context is how his family came to be. By that point there was significant amount of life on land, life he created, and I'd assume he had reached full cockiness. And I know we never know how Wu and Garmadon came to be but I think it'd be interesting if they did have a (mortal) mother. Like, did she fall in love with the FSM? Did he trick her into this love? Maybe the reason we never see her is because after Wu and Garmadon, she realized what kind of person her husband was, and left the family.

Or idk I'm just spitting out random ideas (and feel free to add on to this I'm curious what others think)

#ninjago #ninjago fsm #i don't know why i want him to be an ass so badly #not to mention: how did he even die anyway? #i know he 'sealed himself away in a tomb' or whatever but like #??? I want some context for this??? #(it's possible there is and it's just been a while since i saw Possession but sshh)

[littleladymab]

FebruarOC - Beryl

today we're talking about Beryl Dawn from my affectionately nicknamed "07 Nano" project that I think i've posted about on here before. (I went checking and what the hell I FORGOT I EVEN DID A SECOND DRAFT OF THE BEGINNING) And as a treat for me, I've picked the others of the main quartet for their respective letters for this month. 

Beryl (like Ren) was one of the founding characters for this project after I took a short story I (started to, lbr, it wasn't finished) write about a boy being tasked to go bring back a girl that was kidnapped. Which sounds very, "huh??" when put that way. And as I've talked about before, I've got "city dwellers" and "hill folk" and a super basic-level dichotomy set up between the cultures that at the time I thought was good world building but i know enough now to say "girl that ain't it" at my past self. 

In this setting, there is a swathe of land that's sort of a no-man's land. The Hill Folk are cut off from their elements/gods and the City Dwellers think that it is too wild. It is, for all intents and purposes, a demon grave yard. What are these demons? Pft don't ask me I never explained it. I don't think I even had an inkling kicking around in my head. 

But there was one from the City Dwellers that would go and dig up the graves of demons and using their bones to carve masks and he gave them to people and they got the nick-name Grave Robbers. Now this, unfortunately, is knowledge that was lost to time before I'm pretty sure I had an idea of what Cantur was up to and what the Deacon was for (more on that in Sam's post later this month), but for the life of me I can't remember, and I didn't write any external notes (or any that survived like three laptop crashes). So I can't tell you anything about that. 

Beryl was taken when she was super young and given a Raven mask. Upon donning the mask, the Grave Robber is robbed (badum tss) of their memories and they become a semi-host for the spirit in the mask. She lived as Raven for a few years until Ren Hari showed up and said he'd come to bring her back to the Hill Folk and if she would be so kind as to go with him that would be great. 

As for the Hill Folk lore, the culture is divided into four seasons and each season is divided into two elements. Beryl is a Spring Water cleric (I don't know why I called them clerics probably too much Forgotten Realms/Dragonlance). I went a step further because i'm an Extra Bitch(tm) and I like forbidden romances and I made her and Ky (you'll see her later too) part of a division of "nymphs" which is an all female-division of their Spring element (Wood and Water) and they were extra forbidden from falling in love/being with a man (note: I didn't take queer anything into consideration, which would change in a rewrite)

Now, Beryl-as-Raven was considered a Fallen in the eyes of the Hill Folk elders because, strictly by their rules she "turned her back on her goddess" (we can't get too deep into it now this is just an intro to the character). Technically they would have let her remain as a City Dweller except the priestess of the Spring Water Nymphs had a vision and that means that the goddess hadn't completely given Beryl up for lost. So they sent Ren to get her (I'll talk more about that on his post). 

However once they get back, before they can review Beryl's case, a massive uprising of Fallen/discontent Hill Folk/City Dwellers doing something idk attack the main establishment of the Hill Folk and everything falls into chaos. 

So by the rules, Beryl is still a Fallen because they never could revoke her status, even though she has returned to them and has gained favor from her goddess to use her magic again. 

She and Ren use this loophole to carry out a relationship because, if things ever settle and they fully review her case and revoke the Fallen status, then she will be fully reinstated as a Spring Water Nymph and that will be BAD NEWS BEARS for Ren, who could be severely punished for being intimate with her. 

Now which of these rules and practices will I carry over? Fuck if I know, this isn't the time to figure that out. For now, enjoy this conversation between Beryl and Ren when she agrees to go back with him.

#februaroc #a lil miss original #lil miss writings #07 nano

[children-of-subcon]

Woah, Bee finally posted a new ref? This is unprecedented behavior! Code red!!!

So yeah, I finally FINALLY nailed down a design for these guys! As you might remember, the Friends were originally intended to have masks instead of the Dwellers, but I just couldn’t get it to work in a way I was happy with so. They remain maskless. (I’m not salty about this at all.)

It’s probably for the better anyways, since the dwellers are a liiiittle bit boring without masks lol. Info under the cut!

These strange half-robot, half-doll beings are known simply as “Captor’s Friends”. The majority of them are timid, especially around strangers, but there seems to be a second, much more aggressive variation, who wear ties and have... mustaches...drawn on...for some reason? Get too close to those and they could deliver a nasty punch! Although their “hands” are too soft to actually do any damage...

The Friends appear to be very connected to Calcite Woods, rarely leaving and always returning. It’s unknown whether this is of their own free will, or because they’re actually trapped within. Despite this, however, they are fiercely loyal to Captor, and generally make up 90% of her party guests.

Captor built the Friends’ bodies with the help of a couple friends of her own! Bow made most of the plush parts, and someone else made them custom Captor’s Rave Magnets!

The Captor’s Rave Magnet gives them the ability to teleport short distances :D It’s based on that cut Snatcher’s Realm badge! Not sold in stores, TM cannot be held accountable for any side affects this magnet may have when teleporting living beings.

The little antennae thing on their hats allows them to communicate with Captor from long distances, and can occasionally act as a tracker if one of them gets lost ^^

Dwellers are, as in canon AHiT, ghosts who decided not to become Friends for one reason or another. If you don’t remember, cherries are swapped with fireworks, so if Dwellers get too close to a firework they’ll light it! Don’t worry, they’ll be fine after it goes off, just a little dizzy.

There’s also some very minor changes to the masks! In case you haven’t figured it out yet, the fox mask is swapped with the moon one. The rest don’t really have any major changes, they just swap emotions like this:

That’s about all for these guys! If you made it this far, thanks for reading. The next ref will be another main character, promise ;)

#they were so hard to design but its ok I think the final product is cute :D #talking about Friends btw. dwellers I designed in one go #A Hat in Time #AHiT #ahit au #USAU #ahit Dwellers #ahit Snatcher's Minions #I mean technically not but what would YOU tag them as #the dwellers color swatches are so messy #im sorry I ran out of room

[docgold13]

365 Marvel Comics Paper Cut-Out SuperHeroes - One Hero, Every Day, All Year…

Team Supplemental - The Morlocks 

The Morlocks were a large community of Mutants who felt they were outcasts, living in a network of tunnels that ran throughout the tristate area of the eastern seaborne.  Many of these Mutants possessed physical differences that made it impossible to pass as human.  Feeling shunned and alienated from society, they found refuge in the underground, naming themselves the Morlock after the subterranean race form The Time Machine by H. G. Wells.

The network of tunnels these Morlocks inhabited were built in the 1950s meant to act as shelters in the case of a nuclear war but were ultimately abandoned and forgotten about.  The vast majority of the public had no idea this network even existed. There were numerous tunnels stretching out of sight, with many unexplored. The main tunnel was fifteen meters tall and ran the length of Manhattan; it was called ‘the alley’ by the Morlocks.

The community was founded by the Mutant known as  Callisto, who had discovered the tunnels and moved into them decades ago, shortly after they were abandoned. She enlisted the aid of the fellow Mutant, Caliban in finding other Mutants to create a new underground society.  

Led by Callisto, the Morlocks grew into a society of hundreds of subterranean Mutants.  Raiding parties would go to the surface world to steal furnishings, food, clothing, and the other necessities of life.  They often preyed on economically deprived neighborhoods so to reduce the likelihood of their activities being investigated by the human authorities.  Many of these Morlocks were sterile and some took to abducting children from the human world whom they could raise as their own.

The Morlocks lived largely unknown for decades until they came into conflict with The Uncanny X-Men.  Callisto had abducted the X-Man known as Angel, seeking to take him as her ceremonial husband as a gesture of defiance against the ‘beautiful’ Mutants who were allowed to live so freely in the human world. Angel was rescued by The X-Men and Storm challenged Callisto to one-on-one combat for leadership over the Morlocks.  At the time, Storm did not possess her weather-controlling powers, but she was still a highly skilled combatant and she defeated Callisto.  

As the new leader of The Morlocks, Storm put a definitive end to their practice of abducting surface dwellers.  She invited the Morlocks to live in peace in the above-ground world, but they declined preferring to remain unnoticed and unmolested in their subterranean realm.  Storm accepted this and, though she retained her claim of leadership, she left them in the charge of Callisto.  

Not long thereafter, The Morlock tunnels were discovered by Gambit acting as an agent of Mister Sinister.  Gambit was unaware of it at the time, but Sinister had actually contracted Gambit to discover the Morlocks so that he could arrange their slaughter.  Sinister viewed the Morlocks as inferior Mutants and sought to eradicate them in order to further refine Mutant evolution.  

This deplorable plot was executed by Sinister’s team of killers, The Marauders.  The team invaded the tunnels and massacred The Morlocks, leaving only a handful of survivors.  The X-Men, aided by The Avenger, Thor, attempted to save the Morlocks, but again only a small number survived.  Of those few survivors, most were left militarized in their desire for revenge on the surface world.  This led to ongoing conflicts between the remaining Morlocks and The X-Men, whom they blamed for leaving them undefended against the Marauders’ attack.  

These remaining Morlocks perished over the years so that only Callisto and several overs remained and this once flourishing society of Mutant refugees was all but snuffed out.  The Morlock tunnels were discovered by The Legion of Monsters who coopted the network as a refuge for monsters known as The Monster Metropolis.

In the wake of the foundation of the Mutant nation of Krakoa and the powers of resurrection facilitated by The Five, a great number of The Morlocks have been brought back to life.  Most of these resurrected Morlocks reside on Krakoa and whether or not they will return to the tunnels below the eastern seaborne remains to be seen.  

Molocks of note include the following...

Callisto

The founder and frequently leader of The Morlocks.  Possessing greatly enhanced physical senses and abilities as well as a rapid healing factor that has greatly elongated her lifespan.  Callisto once lived a life of beauty, privilege and luxury but that all ended when her Mutant powers manifested and she was attacked by bigots who left her disfigured and blinded in one eye.  Turning her back on human society, Callisto went on to found Morllock society and has been a regular alley and adversary of The X-Men.  She first appeared in Uncanny X-Men Vol. 1 #169 (1983).

Caliban

A Mutant tracker who is able to detect and locate other Mutants over great distances.  Caliban was among Callisto’s first recruits and played a pivotal role in seeking out fellow Mutants to make up the foundation of Morlock society.  Caliban first appeared in Uncanny X-Men Vol. 1 #148 (1981).  

Sunder

The behemoth known as Sunder was one of Callisto’s earliest recruits and her most dedicated follower.  His Mutant powers greatly enhanced his size, strength and durability.  Sunder survived the Morlock Masacre by The Reavers and served briefly as a member of the X-Men before perishing in a battle against The Reavers.  He has since been resurrected on the isle of Krakoa.  Sunder first appeared in the pages of Uncanny X-Men Vol. 1 #169 (1983).  

Masque

The mysterious Morlock known only as Masque is gifted with the ability to shape and alter other people's appearance, rearranging tissue on a molecular level with the precision of an expert sculpture.  Yet these powers do not work on himself and he has been unable to alter his own significantly grotesque face.  As such, he grew to obsessively loathe beauty in every form.  He was one of Callisto’s earliest recruits and led the Morlocks for a time following the massacre by the Marauders.  Masque has since come to better cope with his issues regarding appearance and resides on Krakoa where he helps other Mutants who feel outcasted by their physical deformations.  Masque first appeared in the pages of Uncanny X-Men Vol. 1 #169 (1983).  

Leach

A toddler aged Morlock whose Mutant powers and attributes were active at birth.  Leach’s abilities act to nullify any other Mutant’s powers in his immediate vicinity.  He essentially takes away other Mutant’s powers, although these powers return once they are away from Leach’s vicinity.  Leach’s power-nullification abilities also work on some non-Mutant super powered beings and the reasons for this remains unknown.  Leach survived the Morlock massacre and currently resides at The Baxter Building as a member of The Richards’ Family and student of The Future Foundation.  Young Leach first appeared in the pages of Uncanny X-Men Vol. 1 #179 (1983).

Artie

Arthur ‘Artie’ Maddicks’ Mutant powers manifested in childhood, leaving him mute and physically transformed in a fashion that his father found grotesque.  Although he had lost the capacity to speak aloud, Artie gained the power to tap into and project the thoughts of himself or other people.  

Artie’s father had Hank McCoy abducted so to force the scientist to find a means of ‘curing’ his son’s mutation.  The ordeal resulted in tragedy and Artie’s father was killed.  Now orphaned, Artie was taken in by X-Factor were he became lifelong friends with fellow Mutant child, Leach.  He first appeared in the pages of X-Factor Vol. 1 #2 (1986).  

Marrow

Young Marrow’s Mutant powers and attributes were active at birth.  She can rapidly grow boney protrusions from her skeleton.  These bones are extremely hard and durable, offering up both defensive armor and bone sword-like weapons.  Marrow was an adolescent at the time of the Marauder’s attack.  She was saved by Gambit who had tried in vain to prevent the massacre.  Afterward, Marrow came under the thrall of Mikhail Rasputin, a Mutant supremacist who placed Marrow in charge of a team of surviving Morlocks known as The Gene Nation.  Marrow and her team battled The X-Men and was ultimately defeated.  Later, Marrow would come to join the X-Men and served with them for several years.  She currently resides on Krakoa and has joined Magik’s team, The Dark Riders.  Marrow first appeared in Cable Vol. 1 #15 (1994).  

Erg

The young Morlock known as Erg possesses the mutant ability to absorb all forms of energy and project them in the form of a blasts from his left eye (which he called his ‘electric eye’).  He survived the Marauder massacre and was among the few Mutants who retained his powers following the M-Day decimation.  Erg became the leader of the remaining Morlocks and brought them to The Xavier Institute were they lived as refugees.  He later relocated to Madripoor and served as a member of Mystique's Brotherhood.  

Erg first appeared in the pages of Power Pack Vol. 1 #12 (1985).  

Tommy

The young Morlock known as Tommy has the Mutant ability to transform into a flat, two-dimensional form.  As a product of her mutation, Tommy’s skin is collared a bright spectrum of pastel colors that made it impossible for her to pass as human.  Hated and feared, Tommy relocated to Morlock society where her abilities were used to steal goods from the surface world.  She was among the first victims killed during the Marauder’s massacre yet was later resurrected on Krakoa and served as a recon agent for X-Force, observing Orchis activity in Paris.  Tommy first appeared in Uncanny X-Men Vol. 1 #210 (1986).  

Skids

Sally Blevins’ Mutant powers manifested in early adolescence.  She found that she could project an invisible and unbreakable forcefield around her body.  The field caused any type of attack to just skid off of her and hence adopted the nickname Skids.  She ran away from an abusive household and ultimately fell in with the Morlocks.  

Skids would later end up a member of X-Factor and thereafter became a secret agent for SHIELD.  She currently resides on Krakoa acting as an agent for SWORD.  She first appeared in X-Factor Vol. 1 #7 (1986).

Tar  

The laconic Morlock called Tar excretes an inky substance from his skin that acts as a powerful adhesive.  Nearly everything becomes stuck to tar-like substance and he can produce large amounts of it from his hands.  Tar was one of the few Morlocks to survive the Marauder’s massacre and was taken in by X-Factor.  He was later killed by agents of the Weapon X program at the Neverland facility.  He has since been resurrected on the isle of Krakoa.  Tar first appeared in the pages of Power Pack Vol. 1 #12 (1985).  

Beautiful Dreamer

The Morlock called Beautiful Dreamer possessed the ability to produce a cloud of smoke with hallucinatory properties.  This ‘dream smoke’ can implant false memories and erroneous identities of her choosing.  Dreamer used this smoke to manipulate the quartet of child-aged heroes called Power Pack into believing they were the children of the fellow Morlock, Annalee.  The Power Pack kids were ultimately rescued by Kitty Pryde and Nightcrawler of The X-Men.  

Beautiful Dreamer survived the Marauders’ massacre but was later killed by the villainous Leper Queen.  Whether to not she has been resurrected on Krakoa has yet to be revealed.  She first appeared in the pages of Power Pack Vol. 1 #12 (1985).  

Bliss

Very little is known about Bliss' life before she joined the Morlocks.  Her mutant powers bestowed her a long, prehensile tongue that ends with a fanged mouth that can deliver a powerful, paralyzing venom.  Having survived the Marauders’ massacre, Bliss became militant in her hatred of the surface world and joined Masque’s iteration of The Morlocks that sought to conduct terrorist attacks on human society.  The team was defeated and Bliss ended up accepting a place in the X-Men’s refuge of Utopia off the coast of San Francisco.  

Bliss’ original physical appearance remains unknown.  Her features were altered by Masque to fist make her look like Jean Grey and altered once again to make her look like Storm.  Currently she resembles something of a combination of the two women and, although this has made her a very conventionally attractive woman, she seems to revel in showing off her frightening prehensile tongue.  She first appeared in the pages of Uncanny X-Men Vol. 1 #261 (1990).

Healer

Very little is known of the past of the man known only as the Healer before he joined the underground community of the Morlocks.  He possesses powerful healing abilities, able to cure individuals from severe injury or sickness by merely touching them with his palms.  He was amongst the few Morlocks who managed to escape the Marauders’ massacre, relocating to Muir Island, home of the genetic research station run by Moira MacTaggert, to tend to the wounded survivors of the massacre.  After Callisto was mortally wounded, Healer used all of his powers to bring her back from the brink of death. This exhausted him entirely and cost him hi life; although he was later resurrected by The Five on Krakoa and currently serves in the Healing Garden of the isle.  Healer first appeared in Uncanny X-Men Vol 1 #179 (1983).  

Feral

Maria Callasantos grew up in a housing tenement in an impoverished neighborhood of New York City.  She came from a highly abusive home and she and her sister both manifested Mutant powers and attributes in their early teens.  Both of them gradually transformed into cat-like creatures with enhanced strength and dexter and sharpened claws and teeth.  The pair ran away and ended up joining the Morlock society under the city.  Maria took on the name ‘Feral’ while her sister came to be known as ‘Thornn.’  

Feral managed to evade the Marauders during he Morlock masseuse and ended up a founding member of Cable’s team of Mutant heroes, X-Force.  She first appeared in the pages of New Mutants Vol. 1 #99 (1991).  

Shatter

The young man who would come to called Shatter grew up in Chicago.  His Mutant powers manifested in late adolescents where upon his skin took on a hardened form.  Despondent over what he had become, he tried to commit suicided, shooting himself in the head with his father’s gun.  Herein he discovered that his new Mutant form left him effectively invulnerable and the close range gunshot only left a mere crackling on the upper layer of his skin.  

Running away from home and living on the streets, Shatter would go on to help form the Chicago chapter of The Morlocks, helping fellow Mutants evade a troop of villainous sentinels.  Shatter lost his Mutant powers in the wake of the M-Day decimation and it is assumed that he went on to live the normal life he had always wanted.  He first appeared in the pages of Morlocks #1 (2002).  

Ape

Ape was among Callisto’s initial recruits in the creation of Morlock society.  Formerly a homeless vagrant, Ape possesses the Mutant power of object Metamorphosis wherein he can alter his physical shape to mimic that of other objects and human characteristics.  Ape managed to survive the Marauders’ massacre, but was later killed by agents of the Weapon X program at their sinister Neverland facility.  He first appeared in the pages of Power Pack Vol. 1 #12 (1985).

Plague

The Morlock called Plague possessed the Mutant ability to create, magnify and spread disease in anyone she touched.  This was a highly potent power that was even able to effect Kitty Pryde when she was in her intangible form.  An early member of the Morlocks, Plague served Callisto faithfully.  

Plague managed to survive the Marauders’ massacre when she used her powers to inflict an attacking Sabertooth with a rapidly spreading cancer; the villain would have surely died had it not been for his healing factor yet it nonetheless allowed Plague to escape.  She was then sought out by the Mutant villain, Apocalypse who transformed Plague into his powerful horseman, Pestilence.  As a member of  Apocalypse’s forces, she battled X-Factor and other heroes.  She perished in a fight against Power Pack when she was knocked from her flying mechanical horse and fell to her death.  Plague first appeared in Uncanny X-Men Vol. 1 #169 (1983).

Annalee

The Morlock known as Annalee possessed empathic powers where she could telepathically cause others to feel her emotions as though they were their own.  Her children were killed for being Mutants and Annalee ended up a vagrant living join the streets until she found refuge with The Morlocks.  

The loss of her children proved too much for Annalee and, due to the nature of her powers, many of her Morlock colleagues were overwhelmed by her despair.  As such, a number of Morlocks abducted the child heroes known as Power Pack and Beautiful Dreamer used her own powers to convince all involved that these kids were Annalee’s children.  The Power Pack kids were eventually rescued by The X-Men and Annalee found some manner of relief in caring for the young Morlock known as Leach.  Sadly, Annalee was killed in the Marauders’ massacre and it remains unknown whether or not she has been resurrected on Krakoa.  She first appeared in Power Pack Vol. 1 #12 (1985).

The Morlocks first appeared in the pages of Uncanny X-men Vol. 1 #169 (1983).

#365 Marvel Comics Heroes #The Morlocks

[roseslaces]

19. Of Lucretia, who put an end to her life because of the outrage done her.

This, then, is our position, and it seems sufficiently lucid. We maintain that when a woman is violated while her soul admits no consent to the iniquity, but remains inviolably chaste, the sin is not hers, but his who violates her. But do they against whom we have to defend not only the souls, but the sacred bodies too of these outraged Christian captives,—do they, perhaps, dare to dispute our position? But all know how loudly they extol the purity of Lucretia, that noble matron of ancient Rome. When King Tarquin's son had violated her body, she made known the wickedness of this young profligate to her husband Collatinus, and to Brutus her kinsman, men of high rank and full of courage, and bound them by an oath to avenge it. Then, heart-sick, and unable to bear the shame, she put an end to her life. What shall we call her? An adulteress, or chaste? There is no question which she was. Not more happily than truly did a declaimer say of this sad occurrence: "Here was a marvel: there were two, and only one committed adultery." Most forcibly and truly spoken. For this declaimer, seeing in the union of the two bodies the foul lust of the one, and the chaste will of the other, and giving heed not to the contact of the bodily members, but to the wide diversity of their souls, says: "There were two, but the adultery was committed only by one."

But how is it, that she who was no partner to the crime bears the heavier punishment of the two? For the adulterer was only banished along with his father; she suffered the extreme penalty. If that was not impurity by which she was unwillingly ravished, then this is not justice by which she, being chaste, is punished. To you I appeal, ye laws and judges of Rome. Even after the perpetration of great enormities, you do not suffer the criminal to be slain untried. If, then, one were to bring to your bar this case, and were to prove to you that a woman not only untried, but chaste and innocent, had been killed, would you not visit the murderer with punishment proportionably severe? This crime was committed by Lucretia; that Lucretia so celebrated and lauded slew the innocent, chaste, outraged Lucretia. Pronounce sentence. But if you cannot, because there does not compear any one whom you can punish, why do you extol with such unmeasured laudation her who slew an innocent and chaste woman? Assuredly you will find it impossible to defend her before the judges of the realms below, if they be such as your poets are fond of representing them; for she is among those

"Who guiltless sent themselves to doom,And all for loathing of the day,In madness threw their lives away."

And if she with the others wishes to return,

"Fate bars the way: around their keepThe slow unlovely waters creep,And bind with ninefold chain."

Or perhaps she is not there, because she slew herself conscious of guilt, not of innocence? She herself alone knows her reason; but what if she was betrayed by the pleasure of the act, and gave some consent to Sextus, though so violently abusing her, and then was so affected with remorse, that she thought death alone could expiate her sin? Even though this were the case, she ought still to have held her hand from suicide, if she could with her false gods have accomplished a fruitful repentance. However, if such were the state of the case, and if it were false that there were two, but one only committed adultery; if the truth were that both were involved in it, one by open assault, the other by secret consent, then she did not kill an innocent woman; and therefore her erudite defenders may maintain that she is not among that class of the dwellers below "who guiltless sent themselves to doom." But this case of Lucretia is in such a dilemma, that if you extenuate the homicide, you confirm the adultery: if you acquit her of adultery, you make the charge of homicide heavier; and there is no way out of the dilemma, when one asks, If she was adulterous, why praise her? if chaste, why slay her?

Nevertheless, for our purpose of refuting those who are unable to comprehend what true sanctity is, and who therefore insult over our outraged Christian women, it is enough that in the instance of this noble Roman matron it was said in her praise, "There were two, but the adultery was the crime of only one." For Lucretia was confidently believed to be superior to the contamination of any consenting thought to the adultery. And accordingly, since she killed herself for being subjected to an outrage in which she had no guilty part, it is obvious that this act of hers was prompted not by the love of purity, but by the overwhelming burden of her shame. She was ashamed that so foul a crime had been perpetrated upon her, though without her abetting; and this matron, with the Roman love of glory in her veins, was seized with a proud dread that, if she continued to live, it would be supposed she willingly did not resent the wrong that had been done her. She could not exhibit to men her conscience, but she judged that her self-inflicted punishment would testify her state of mind; and she burned with shame at the thought that her patient endurance of the foul affront that another had done her, should be construed into complicity with him. Not such was the decision of the Christian women who suffered as she did, and yet survive. They declined to avenge upon themselves the guilt of others, and so add crimes of their own to those crimes in which they had no share. For this they would have done had their shame driven them to homicide, as the lust of their enemies had driven them to adultery. Within their own souls, in the witness of their own conscience, they enjoy the glory of chastity. In the sight of God, too, they are esteemed pure, and this contents them; they ask no more: it suffices them to have opportunity of doing good, and they decline to evade the distress of human suspicion, lest they thereby deviate from the divine law.

#St Augustine #The City of God #Christianity #paganism #Rome

[fiberturkey89]

The Realm of Remants and Wojira

(A fan realm made by me for my Ninjago Dinosaur AU)

Long before time had a name, there was only "then" and "now" to the beings of the First Realm. Yet, they weren't the only ones who followed this rule.

The third oldest realm after the First Realm and the Departed Realm was The Realm of Remnants, who became the sister sibling to the afterlife realm; born during the Oni and Dragon war. When casualities were high en masse on both sides, children, female, male, anything in between was born and died during this time of turnoil. The vast amount of elemental energy simply had nowhere to go as souls of both Oni and Dragon ventured to the Departed Realm, abandoning their companions.

You see, to the Dragon, the elemental powers they possessed were part of them. Primitive, but alive. They could think and they could feel.. experience everything that the Dragon could. Without an anchor, they are simply... nothing, incapable. To the Oni, their powers are the same, having a sibling that could talk to them - not literally, but emotionally. To be without power meant you lost a bit of yourself. The elemental powers and essences returned to the simple premise of life and death, predator and prey without a companion.

The Realm of Remants has many biomes, each suited to the needs of many of its residents. It had become much like the Departed Realm in appearance, with its trees, its rocks, yet the presence of creation and destruction allowed for the life and death of spirits. In realm, they were physical, tethered to the realm which made them able to eat, to drink. To live.

Those born with more Dragon could not leave, but they could sense the weakspots that lead to other realms.. but none risked it. For they didn't know could happen to them outside. Those born with more Oni dismissed the chance to leave the realm, content with their territories and survival

Yet there was one who was tired of residing in the realm, a mistake that should not have been there. The essences of wind Dragons and water Dragons coming together to create..

Wojira.

Her soul had gotten ripped away from the path to the Cursed Realmed in the Ethereal Divide because of the influx of water and wind that came to the Realm of Remnants, her form became much like the Dwellers of the sea. But more Serpent, more Draconic. She could see the ways out of the Realm.

She didn't dare try to attack the others. They were siblings in a way- she followed their code, sensing that something else was watching her every movement in the Realm. When she built enough strength, she departed from there, swimming through the Ethereal Divide in an attempt to return to the First Realm.

Coming upon a weakspot, she noticed that there were Oni, specifically one attempting to summon something to come aid them in the war as they were being pushed back. She had been given the amulets of storm and wave to enhance her power thanks to an Oni that attempted to convince her for aid against the Dragons in the war.

She killed the Oni and kept the amulets for herself, the place she had travelled to being the Departed Realm- all her attempts to return to the First Realm were for naught, as she simply couldn't find the thinspot that lead to home. The amulets clouding her vision, and forcing her to dormancy as she travelled back to the Realm of Remants.

She waited, laying in sleep until the change...

That one change one day being the Never Realm.

#alternate universe #ninjago #fan-made realm #dinosaurs #prehistory #ninjago wojira #first realm #dragon and oni