@noatherics
also, this is wish list style but someone getting sent isekai style to inodal?? just, you're here now. high odds thane would try to orchestrate for them to die but like... the slow realizing they need them for this prophecy and realizing its out of their control which is a big thing for him. then def running into each other in the modern day and hitting a spider man point meme 'you??' 'me.'
tag dump ( 3/??? )
four other major cities make up thane’s kingdom which was acquired through his efforts in expanding their borders. he appointed his sisters as the one to oversee these acquisitions and essentially gave them free reign as they wished within reason. their basic rules are the same but what they’d developed their lands into was entirely up to them as long as they shared their earnings with the others. each city was a wheel to keep things going but they’d all still be able to exist if one happened to fall into obscurity. despite finding himself in inodal, which was the capital of it all, he’d venture to these other places to grace them with his presence and allow them to partake in celebrations they’d heard about which happened in the inodal itself. inodal was, for lack of better word, viewed as a type of paradise where everyone prospered. smaller towns fill the gaps between the cities but do fall under the rule of them.
ezeocia was the closest to inodal, it made its trade in crops of a greater variety along with dealing in spices to share with the kingdom itself. placed against the sea as well, they’d also have a hand in fish trade and pearl hunting but with far more dedication than inodal. it’d appear closer to a fishing town with a grand pier and many other boats lined along its coastline which would move to deliver goods where it’d be able.
iramuca found its niche in ores and precious stones which crafted it into a mining city that’d supply a great deal of the material that’d be used for armor and weapons. workers had a powerful voice here since they were the ones working tirelessly to mine out the materials and craft them into something that’d be of use. digging for precious stones further flourished their wealth and a great deal of jewelry would spread from them all across the land. their craftsmanship becoming rather famous among the people that’d actually be able to afford it.
murozia fashioned itself into a place of knowledge, dipping into the arcane and housing a college that’d teach magic for many years after building upon what was already there. bolstering it into a place where many techniques and crafts would be discovered or perfected. it’d also find itself second to inodal as a place to worship the gods and pay them tribute. they’d deal in potions, herbs, medicines, and textiles which fetched a good price while being useful to many.
shezregary became a prison city, keeping those that’d been found guilty of grievous crimes and sentenced to live out their years in isolation. the prison is massive and the people that live there are the ones who are related to the guards working in it. the prison would contribute to the weapons and armors crafted as service to the kingdom by those that were incarcerated.
an important thing to remember was most of the land outside of inodal itself originally belonged to other people; it’d been conquered and claimed by their armies. the people that’d lived this before were either driven out or adopted into the kingdom. being overtaken definitely leads to some animosity, naturally, but thane’s curse would impact these areas enough to where it’d stay simmering instead of boiling over while they worked to defuse it. there’s also how things like monsters were viewed, those that carried themselves as humans would. it’d result in the same effect, numbed down to the point where it’d stay from spilling over but somewhat present in the community in the cities but less so in inodal itself. preaching for equality is a lot different than obtaining it but thane did have his eyes sight on that being the final conclusion.
tongue runs across teeth, jagged fangs that part for even sharper words. the beast, it walks amongst the shadows of the streets, its rot of death close behind. peering from the foliage, peering from the shadows—— it saw everything. from the birth of millions stars to the deaths of countless others. ( light / shadow ) it's not coexistence ... rather codependency. if there's good, then surely evil exists, words to define, to restrict and simplify reality. neither concept exists, or rather ... it's pointless to define them because you will always be what someone else decides. whether that's the universe—— a friend—— an enemy. ( there are no choices. )
❛ oh stop it, you. ❜ smile becomes loose, biting onto her words. ❛ if that were the case, you wouldn't be here. ❜ not alone, not with him of all people. soulless, heartless—— a knack fo finding broken things. ( were these ... him? did he finally choose for himself? at last ... ) another step, a laugh that's too far too crude to be kind anymore. each step an advance, each step closer and closer to wounded creature. ❛ let me let you in on a secret, darling. that pit in the bottom of your stomach ... that shadow you see flit in the corner of your eye ... that weight you tie to your life, well, it's all rubbish. ❜ curt, dry.
glint of amusement in his gaze, dulls. pools of nothingness—— of heavy truth, sit before her. a reflection of a reflection. far too warped. far too twisted. it does not view the world with eyes at all. it does not hear or see. it simply ... is. cold, hard, unfeeling. floating above lofty things like ideals &. reason. ( could they even be in the same world at all? ) ❛ but, to answer your question ... hmmmmm ... no. questions are one of the few pleasures in the world for me. listening to people lie—— it's rather fun. ❜ dim light returns like candle finding flame, a cool heat sits within martin's gaze. mercy? ❛ ... now, how bout this, i patch up those nasty little wounds and you can cling to life as you always have or ... you can well, throw in the towel. give up. start the next chapter, so to speak. ❜ ( rest. )
❛ Oh, you think I'm pretending? ❜ A scoff followed, a harsh, dismissive sound that echoed years of cynicism, accompanied by a sharp glint in her eyes that betrayed something deeper. The words hung in the air, pressing against her like an invisible hand to her throat. ❛ Let me tell you a secret — there’s no act to keep up when there’s no one left to pretend for. ❜
It was a bitter truth, a loneliness that had become her constant companion and consumed her very being with every fiber of her existence. Fending for herself had become second nature, from the harsh days of her early adolescence up until now. She had endured in a world that offered no solace, no guidance, only the relentless pressure to survive.
And yet... she could never quite escape the heavy burden that it placed upon her shoulders, nor the dreadful feeling that settled within her chest as she spoke those words, a hollow ache that whispered of something lost, something perhaps never possessed at all. Despite her outward bravado and unrelenting expression, she couldn't quiet the whispering voice in the back of her head that questioned her own statement. Pretending — wasn't that the foundation of her very existence? The only thing that kept her afloat in a world that had deemed her the villain, a despicable, wretched being ever since she drew her first breath? The act of a mere human, trying to blend in and be accepted, had been her first role, but had she ever really stopped hiding behind the facades she'd constructed?
But even then... nothing mattered, really — except the fact that she would keep pretending. Because what was the alternative? To crumble? To break down and reveal vulnerability to a world that wouldn’t offer any sympathy?
She forced a brittle smile, the edges sharp and unforgiving. ❛ But tell me, does it ever get tiring trying to pick apart things you’ll never understand? ❜ The deflection carried a sardonic edge — a challenge, a dare, and something dangerously close to a plea.
CLARK / @amcssing ——— a blur of azure, a flicker of red, a dash of gold—— it’s the roar of wind, the tearing of sound then the chill of the tundra. crystal shards stacked high, threatening to pierce heaven itself yet … they would never. gently it holds the world aloft, an icy place of solitude and respite, a place where even heroes might rest: a fortress. ears perk, catch the sound of clicking heels, the gentle shift of blonde hair, the sound of plush lips made stern. a boom—— a clap of thunder, the roar that announces the elation of flight before he appears. clark hovers, weightless, blues peering at her with a stars luminosity. warm, inviting, kind. boots tap the ground gentle, no longer content to linger above … no, eager to stand beside. cape swishes, faint traces of wear, a battle fought and won. strong fingers, warm like flame cup her cheeks, forehead resting against hers. ‘I’m starting to think you like the fortress of solitude way more than I do, Emma. Trying to live up to the last name?’
SHE FEELS HIM BEFORE she hears him, sees him, before the wind shifts and suddenly he is here. summer fruits / warm flannel / old folk music / sunsets. her silence interrupted but for once, it is welcome, this cacophony of thoughts running mile - a - minute . the moment her mind can touch his, the rigidness of her shoulders seems to melt.
lashes flutter shut, brushing the cheeks lifted with touch. his hands are calloused----how are they so soft ? questions she'll never ask because she doesn't care for an answer. first time she's had that thought since her arrival, which was, how long ago ? emma loses track of time here with an unnerving ease. or perhaps comforting ease.
-- " can you blame me ? "
it isn't a real question / he would never. he would never blame her for her loneliness, her wondering. and wondering she has been: her curse is to think, after all. to think of her responsibilities, her loves, her life. her failures. broken children, broken heroes. for every time she attempts to protect the metahumans, does she do anything but paint targets upon their backs ? her heart so open, yet caged.
he frees it. instantly. emma looks up into eyes full oif hope and the glacier melts, so does her gaze. a forehead 'gainst chest. something solid to lean against / not violent, but fierce. unmoving. she is diamond, but he is her rock. holding her down to the ground despite his ability to fly. perhaps that's what drew her in, after all these years; someone with a genuine want to hold her without suffocating. protect, not control. an open mind both literally and figuratively, easy to forgive and easier to trust.
his mindsong hums against hers, and she doesn't read them, just listens. enjoys the comfort of his alien mind with hers, his very human embrace.
-- " ... i apologise. i should have had batman inform you i was leaving. you didn't need to rush here so suddenly. "
Papers in the wind. Hotaru, Good Samaritan despite the way he speaks of people: bends to help gather the materials which seemed to spill from the professor(?)’s hands. Sometimes a rabbit doesn’t know it’s crossed a lion and wanders in its den regardless. “… bad weather. Ah, here you go.”
a single second. lots can change in one — an arrow might strike true, or an encounter might occur. in a single second, his attention drifted. golden irises, deep and rich like pools of ichor, glance towards the sky. it's getting later, the purplish orange hue edging the far reaches of the sky warns him. still, the sun hangs up above with unchallenged bravado. it does not shy away from the shadows; it does not fear sinking beyond the skyline — it knows it will rise. it will always rise; its destined to shine, so let it do as it was destined. and in a single second, he's jealous of its certainty — of such a simple fate.
papers slipped from his fingers, plucked by thieving winds, howling and cackling as they went. a soft curse, a dead word, in a foreign land — slips from his lips. at the very least, none of them went far. explaining how he lost more than half of the documents pertaining to the school wouldn't have been a pleasant conversation. not that thane worries about such things. it's almost time for him to find another place, as things would have it. to see what the next school might offer — he's sure his colleagues are appalled by how often he comes and goes. their job security is why they stay. however, it's the security he does not want.
the thin metal clips in his dreads clink gently as he kneels carefully, none too eager to exacerbate old wounds. everything he does is stiff — a plain attempt at coddling discomfort. and suddenly, he's not alone, not that they crept 'pon him unseen. it's just more papers returned to his hands than he gathered himself. some of the glow in his gaze darkens if only for a moment; it's never truly gone — the lambent within.
❛ & —— and just like that, you're my favorite student. ❜ lips curve into a mannerly smile. ❛ even if we've never met before. ❜ he straightens up, smoothing out each document, a practiced gesture. ❛ thank you. ❜
unprompted,
Given your own nature, are you really the one to judge? (To Rex! From the BG3 party meme)
party banter / accepting !
touché. nanites hum as if responding to a provocation; his body is an interwoven mix of machinery and humanity, yet all himself. he raises his hands as if to ward off any further barbs hurling towards him——features slack with the faintest hint of sheepishness. guess what goes around comes around when it's a matter of judging a book by its cover. still ... compared to EVOs? this might as well have been a drop in the bucket ... sort of. long as he looks past the moving things around with their mind parts. he's trying——okay!
"okay, okay. you're right. i can make machines from my hands and you're a talking ... i wanna say ... groundhog? makes us both a little bit strange. but, really though, you're sure you're not an EVO..? never had any run ins with a guy named van kleiss? about this tall," he gestures, "big metal arm? talks a LOT about EVOs being the next step in his big, bad, evil empire?" no? no.
【 @metanoen , momo says | ❛ well, well, well, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions. ❜ | * mixed bag prompts , accepting.
single digits hooks collar, a sole insignificant gesture, a mere passive act—— a hair faster than the wretched limb that swipes at her head. eyes barely lift from screen, mid-session of another doom scroll, one of several ... hundred today alone. ( boring ! ) word pursues endless, a tireless hunt, it brings with it nothing aside from lethargy. even company barely keeps the weight from becoming crushing, from becoming too much to bear—— a nice dip in a newly formed star—— maybe that'll perk him up. give a new sense of life to this tiresome one. at least, that's what he thought !
countless tomes, artifacts, treasures ( and collectibles! ) were littered around. brad's den of trinkets, rightfully bought—— &. otherwise. guess it only makes sense momo would've been a little curious ... ah, the ken takakura stuff. right. ❛ y'know, cuginetta, trynna meet ken takakura nearly got you ... er, hold on. ❜ a wince, trying to work out something, a sluggishness sits on tongue, dulling clever wit. ❛ lemme do that again. ❜
——————————CUT ! CHANGE SCENE ! ACTION !
single digits hooks collar, a burst of speed behind such gesture, a quick act of heroism—— a hair faster than the wretched limb that swipes at her head. eyes barely lift from screen, mid-session of another doom scroll, one of several ... hundred today alone. ( better ! ) ❛ guess you had a hand in letting this one out, didn't you, cuginetta? don't worry. i'm here before things get out of hand. ❜ lips twist into a smirk, a flash of pearly white teeth, all too pleased with himself. ❛ oh, oh ! let me give you a hand ! ❜ fingers snap, a surge of light—— a flicker of lights, film case snaps shut, and a decrepit limb falls to the floor with a hollow thud. gently releases collar, rolling the severed limb off into some far corner.
❛ guess you could say im ... pretty handy. ❜