I’m actually going to be made to learn Latin bc I need it for some old documents. I started last year but I didn’t get very far because of instability in my life and King Asmodeus kind of gave me a lot of stuff to read at once so I was kind of like “this is homework” in a good way because I kind of miss having a reason to write stuff on paper and I also studied multiple languages in HS and Uni but like whenever I have a REASON reason to learn something I tend to go SLOWER because pressure pisses me off and if I’m just doing it to do it it’s more fun even if it’s EXACTLY what I’d be doing anyway
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The Great Notes App Exodus: Gothic Dragons
Gotham has always been protected by a Dragon, even before it was ever Gotham.
There was a way about the land Gotham stood upon, that was all twisted magics and darkness and feral energy that never quite fit in man’s modern world. America had but one Guardian Dragon - except for Gotham, which was near a law and country unto itself.
Gotham was a sanctuary for the supernatural, but it was not kind. Those non-humans who risked its dark streets were the brave, or the foolish, or the terribly desperate. Gotham was a dark city, and it’s people adapted or were driven out.
(But should a threat ever come for her, all of Gotham would rise up in response.)
So Gotham had its own Guardian, but the Dragon guarded the world outside from Gotham’s brutality just as much as it shielded Gotham from those that would rend her apart.
But, of course, Dragons were only so many, and new blood must be brought in - human blood, as it often was, and so the trend of Dragon blood “skipping” a generation emerged.
And the bloodline of the Guardian Dragons of Gotham withered, bit by bit, because it is far easier to kill a human of dragon blood than it is to kill a Dragon of human descent.
(And Bruce Wayne has never hated this truth of the world more - because his parents had been Skipped, human, and if they had been dragons, they’d still be there with him.
But they weren’t.
It was just Bruce, a fledgling Dragon, and the butler left to care for him.)
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Although Gotham had only ever had one Guardian Dragon, it had at one time had a whole lineage of Dragons capable of taking up the mantle. As the Dragons intermarried, however, more and more lines broke off with human kin, occasionally producing dragons.
But the Guardian Line had been reduced to one untrained hatchling. And that hatchling didn’t much care if it was a Dragon or a dragon that was Guardian of the city, just that there was someone to Guard it.
The problem is, of course, that the hatchling needs training - but he cannot get that in Gotham.
So he leaves.
He comes back ready to pull his city back from the brink, by force if (when) necessary.
Here’s the thing - Bruce is no Dragon, because for all that he is the last of the Guardian line he doesn’t adhere to the rules of that duty.
A Guardian’s duty is to the supernatural beings they protect.
Bruce has already decided that that is not enough. Human or Magical Being, if no one else will step in, then he will.
Bruce might have been the Gotham Dragon, but that didn’t mean he was the only dragon in the city.
The thing about dragon blood is that it tended to turn up dragons unexpectedly in families that had been mostly human. A dragon ancestor could have human children, and their children have human children, and then a dragon. It was a recessive trait when introduced into human bloodlines, and especially if it was paired with yet more human lines, but it also was tellingly stubborn - a human may only have a single draconian ancestor hundreds of years back, but they could still unexpectedly turn up a dragon hatchling.
It was just sheer dumb luck that a bunch of said unexpected hatchlings turned up within the span of the same generation.
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time passage, huh...
I used to come here quite a few times. Because on every school holidays, minus summer one, I'd go with my grandma to the sanatorium. Plus me and my grandparents would go skiing here. I struggled climbing back up — and still do. I'm afraid of sliding from large slopes, too.
Eventually though, around the time I was a pre-teen, we both stopped. Now I'm not sure whether or not we'd go back there again. I mean, it's not like we can't. It's that it isn't as necessary, possibly? Or not as effective? My grandma's health is getting more and more frail — I see it myself. I'm afraid of... her heart stopping to beat. Some ordeals done in a sanatorium wouldn't be as good for her as before, probably. Considering it's not just the asthma that is there to treat.
Or it is from me... just being selfish?
Now I'm 16. I came here by myself. I have never been here completely alone. And it's just as beautiful as it has always been... But it feels different.
I have never been a social kid. I've always had a handful of friends, and even then most of the time I spent at home watching YouTube, be it by myself or with mom in the next room. I wouldn't chat with many people, as I found it hard to find the topics — they didn't know what was inside my head. They seemed... normal. They didn't draw demonic versions of beloved cartoon characters, inspired by a let's play on a fairly crappy .exe game. I have always been the best listener to myself. Me and my sketchbooks.
And the few people that I thought were the same either weren't trustworthy from the beginning, or weren't of my taste. Yes, I'm going to say it — it's normal to dislike someone, even if they have the same interest as you.
But in either case, I was alone. Too many times, too often. I had barely anyone to share my art with. But then I was encouraged to make an instagram account to share my art.
Did it help? Not really. Since I was followed by my mom and grandparents, I knew I couldn't post everything. Plus, I was less aware of what social media was back in 2019. So ultimately, it stayed the same, except I showed my drawings to the public that wasn't the target audience I had aimed for. And at some point I saw others making accounts sharing WIPs. So I made one, and in combination it was occassionally a vent account. Problem was that my mom followed my there, so I had to put on a filter of what I could and couldn't post again, plus use only English to not be caught in captions. And then I lost access to it after getting a new phone, so it stays as a small archive of me losing motivation in drawing at one point and denying I'm bi and a furry.
And now... I'm here. I'm 16 years old. I have existed for not much time at all, compared to other artists and especially the universe. But it's not as if my life is worthless. It went through phases. Many phases. It had joys and sorrows. It had self-hatred and self-doubt. It had projects picked up and dropped. Creations made and remade over and over, in hopes to unleash full creative freedom. And through all this time...
It left a mark.
It left a mark on this world, in some way. There have been people before me, who have done the same. Who screamed into the void, hoping it would respond back. Who left symbols that say "Hey! I used to be here!" And only now do I see what these words mean. I may never meet people who have left these graffitis, and they may never meet me, but I'll know they existed. That they came here, into this sanatorium, found an abandoned structure built for god-knows-what, and left their mark. Which may not last until the end, but it's still here!
The evidence of us being alive!
... Keep living. You are not worthless. Your pictures and songs may not be passed down in museums, but they will exist as a reminder of what being human is about. You may stumble and fall, but ultimately that's what life is, right?
It's a path you make yourself.
- 29.12.2022
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𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝑮𝒓𝒂𝒚 & 𝑵𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒉 𝑲𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒚
Though from different backgrounds, Niamh and Primrose quickly clicked; their strenght of character, leadership and being the future heads of their houses, alongside their love for adventure and be more than society's expectations gave them was what brought them so close, turning into lost sisters.
Though Niamh was adamant on not marrying just yet and Primrose had a small wish with a mix of obligation to marry early and bear an heir, that hardly interfered with their friendship, and Niamh adored visiting her children, whom she considered her nephew and nieces. Alexandra would become her goddaughter and was proud of the poised, intelligent, self-sufficient, witty and incredible woman she gladly helped her friend raise, and was naturally front line on her wedding and birth of her children.
Both women could've never guessed they'd get along so well: Niamh was a farmer and Catholic, and Primrose was a noblewoman and Protestant, though she did not go often to church and instead focused on dull paperwork. Primrose treated Niamh like her younger sister and was generous towards her, inviting her and her family over to Winbourne, giving her clothes that no longer fitted or liked, gave her jewelry she didn't like but Niamh would appreciate – to the point that she wore the gorgeous pearl necklace with her initial and the blue amethyst hairpins to her wedding, where Prim naturally was Maid of Honour – shared secrets, braided each other's hairs, pranked others and tried their best to enjoy their youth.
These two friends loved each other very much, and their children and grandchildren would grow up together, the families becoming friends and helping each other in future altercates.
Niamh belongs to @unfortunate-arrow
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