hey lovely ladies, enbies, and lads!! my dad published a book called “Gracie and the Snufflepuffs” by David Rowney. it’s a children’s book (about 28 pages) based on a story he used to tell me as a kid, so the main character is based off of child-me :D currently available via the link below in kindle and paperback form!
PSA to all you fantasy writers because I have just had a truly frustrating twenty minutes talking to someone about this: it’s okay to put mobility aids in your novel and have them just be ordinary.
Like. Super okay.
I don’t give a shit if it’s high fantasy, low fantasy or somewhere between the lovechild of Tolkein meets My Immortal. It’s okay to use mobility devices in your narrative. It’s okay to use the word “wheelchair”. You don’t have to remake the fucking wheel. It’s already been done for you.
And no, it doesn’t detract from the “realism” of your fictional universe in which you get to set the standard for realism. Please don’t try to use that as a reason for not using these things.
There is no reason to lock the disabled people in your narrative into towers because “that’s the way it was”, least of all in your novel about dragons and mermaids and other made up creatures. There is no historical realism here. You are in charge. You get to decide what that means.
Also:
“Depiction of Chinese philosopher Confucius in a wheelchair, dating to ca. 1680. The artist may have been thinking of methods of transport common in his own day.”
“The earliest records of wheeled furniture are an inscription found on a stone slate in China and a child’s bed depicted in a frieze on a Greek vase, both dating between the 6th and 5th century BCE.[2][3][4][5]The first records of wheeled seats being used for transporting disabled people date to three centuries later in China; the Chinese used early wheelbarrows to move people as well as heavy objects. A distinction between the two functions was not made for another several hundred years, around 525 CE, when images of wheeled chairs made specifically to carry people begin to occur in Chinese art.[5]”
“In1655,Stephan Farffler, a 22 year old paraplegic watchmaker, built the world’s first self-propelling chair on a three-wheel chassis using a system of cranksandcogwheels.[6][3] However, the device had an appearance of a hand bike more than a wheelchair since the design included hand cranks mounted at the front wheel.[2]
The invalid carriage or Bath chair brought the technology into more common use from around 1760.[7]
In1887, wheelchairs (“rolling chairs”) were introduced to Atlantic City so invalid tourists could rent them to enjoy the Boardwalk. Soon, many healthy tourists also rented the decorated “rolling chairs” and servants to push them as a show of decadence and treatment they could never experience at home.[8]
In1933 Harry C. Jennings, Sr. and his disabled friend Herbert Everest, both mechanical engineers, invented the first lightweight, steel, folding, portable wheelchair.[9] Everest had previously broken his back in a mining accident. Everest and Jennings saw the business potential of the invention and went on to become the first mass-market manufacturers of wheelchairs. Their “X-brace” design is still in common use, albeit with updated materials and other improvements. The X-brace idea came to Harry from the men’s folding “camp chairs / stools”, rotated 90 degrees, that Harry and Herbert used in the outdoors and at the mines.[citation needed]
“But Joy, how do I describe this contraption in a fantasy setting that wont make it seem out of place?”
“It was a chair on wheels, which Prince FancyPants McElferson propelled forwards using his arms to direct the motion of the chair.”
“It was a chair on wheels, which Prince EvenFancierPants McElferson used to get about, pushed along by one of his companions or one of his many attending servants.”
“But it’s a high realm magical fantas—”
“It was a floating chair, the hum of magical energy keeping it off the ground casting a faint glow against the cobblestones as {CHARACTER} guided it round with expert ease, gliding back and forth.”
“But it’s a stempunk nov—”
“Unlike other wheelchairs he’d seen before, this one appeared to be self propelling, powered by the gasket of steam at the back, and directed by the use of a rudder like toggle in the front.”
Give. Disabled. Characters. In. Fantasy. Novels. Mobility. Aids.
If you can spend 60 pages telling me the history of your world in innate detail down to the formation of how magical rocks were formed, you can god damn write three lines in passing about a wheelchair.
Signed, your editor who doesn’t have time for this ableist fantasy realm shit.
Some options for other disabilities and aids:
“Jack had an unusual pair of sticks, unlike anything Jill had seen before; they were much like canes, but rather than ending in a knot or handle they continued up into a pair of bracelets, held together round his wrists by a cunning slide mechanism. They kept him, she noted, quite sure of foot even on the steep ground.” (wrist braces; cerebral palsy)
“Fandir wore a ring around her ear. It looked something like a fancy collar, its edges tipped outward as though forming a funnel, and when she was spoken to she turned it in the direction of the speaker.” (hearing aid, based off antique “hearing trumpets”)
“Victor’s left arm was a marvel of the modern age–held together with a thousand miniscule steel plates and ten thousand tiny gears, wearing a small brazier, much like a jacket cuff, to fire the steam that moved its mechanical fingers.” (prosthetic arm, steampunk)
“Sasha carried one of the most unusual canes Mara had ever seen: it was longer than might be considered useful to someone her size, and hollow, its walls so thin it surely couldn’t hold her weight. Mara watched as Sasha swept the cane ahead of her. At first she thought Sasha was merely clearing a path, but then the cane struck a large rock, and Sasha neatly sidestepped it having never been told it was there. Ah, that solved the mystery, Mara thought: the hollow stick vibrated in Sasha’s hands when it struck, and its sound told her what danger she might face.” (white cane, blindness)
“Sibatyn clapped his hands over his eyes. ‘Here,’ said Yanit, ‘put your scarf over your eyes and take my arm. I can lead you until the lightning is over.’“ (avoiding flashing lights, photosensitive epilepsy)
“‘She grows quite ill on bread, even Rosie’s best,’ Sam lamented. ‘Can’t keep a bit of weight on her. It isn’t proper, for a hobbit.’ Gandalf nodded. ‘Have you considered, perhaps, feeding her on Elf-bread? She may take well to grains not often found in the Shire.’“ (special diet, Celiac disease, food allergies)
I literally had to think harder about what disabilities I wanted to represent here than I did about how to represent them. It isn’t hard. You have no excuse.
OP is spot on. Also, thank you @prismatic-bell for including the food intolerances/allergies one – that’s pretty much exactly how I handled it in my series. As with all of these, and indeed with many other forms of representation that sometimes get pushback in SFF, it’s just a matter of wording it in genre-friendly terms. Sometimes I get the feeling some people forget that’s an option, or it doesn’t occur to them. But obviously there is also often ablism and assumptions at play.
(I heard Gandalf’s lines in Sir Ian’s voice so that was fun :P )
oh oh oh! Witch Hat Atelier is such a good example regarding including disability and accessibility in fantasy.
There are two prominent characters that require mobility aid, specifically a sealchair.(since it’s powered by a magical seal)
There’s one who has an incredibly lavish chair since he is rich and powerful
and a much less complex one for a street performer kid who can’t afford anything fancy. (The main character and her friend spend like, an entire issue trying to figure out how to make a better accessibility device for him since the hooves have a hard time going up and down stairs / steeper slopes). (i wont spoil what they come up with but its pretty dang neat)
Apart from the mobile accessibility, there’s also an instance where one of the mentor characters gives a kid a headband with a sound muting seal to help with his sensitive hearing, one character uses a lens in his glasses to help with light sensitivity, and one of the prominent characters has colourblindness which affects his day to day life visibly, and it’s shown later on how he learns to get around it and its really neat!!!
What do I say to someone if their argument is “Healing magic that regrows limbs/cures diseases.” or whatever, because I have had that argument so many times it’s tiring.
I would start by saying, “So, in this setting, healing magic is available to absolutely everyone? Cool! What’s the system for providing it? How many magic healers are there (by geographic area or by population)? Is there, like, one stationed in every podunk village, or do they travel around on a predetermined route, or is there like a bat-signal, or what?”
“Also, depending on what the answer is, you might need to figure out whether there are any limitations on how long after the injury the healing can take place–if you’ve got healers riding circuit through the hinterlands, suppose someone cuts off a limb a week after the healer leaves: will they still be able to heal it when they come around again the next year?”
“Speaking of, I assume people die in this setting, yeah? So the only possible outcomes of an injury or illness are either ‘you are instantly and completely healed by magic, with no lingering effects whatsoever’ or ‘you are dead,’ right? That’s bound to have some kind of effects on society–damned if I know what they are, but you’d better have some idea; this is your setting after all.”
“And, circling back around to how the system works, if magical healing services are available to everyone, the healers can’t be charging directly for it–so who is paying them, or if they aren’t being paid, what do they live on? I guess it could be sliding-scale, but in that case, how is it decided which healers work in the places where rich people live, and which ones heal the poor? While we’re on the subject of working conditions for magical healers, is it something anyone can learn to do, or is it an inborn ability? If it’s inborn, are individuals with the ability obligated to work for the Magic Healing Service? If they are, explain how that’s not slavery. (Or if we’re acknowledging that it’s slavery, what effect does this have on the plot?) If not, how are people recruited to the magical healing service, and what other career options might they have?”
“For instance, Is there magic cosmeticsurgery? If you can afford it, can you have a magic healer grow you some extra limbs? Can you have them grow your child to the height/weight/appearance you choose? Now that I think about it, does this healing ability work on livestock? If it does, do people in this setting slaughter livestock for meat, or do they just cut off the bits they want to eat and have a magic-user grow them back?”
“Oh, you…didn’t think about any of that? And you have no plans to start? So, your setting has healing magic that can regrow limbs and cure diseases with no after-effects, butthe only difference it makes is that there are no disabled people. Anywhere. It does not affect society in any way, or have any implications for the story you’re telling. Okay. That’s…an approach, I guess.”
That’s what I would say, more or less. Words to that effect.
I’ve researched crutches for several characters in historical settings, and those things are universal! Giving a character crutches or canes, at pretty much ANY period of history, and any place in the world - historically plausible. We have medieval European illustrations, ancient Egyptian carvings, Islamic descriptions, Chinese designs, archeological artifacts from all over the place, etc.
There are also little crutches (hand trestles) that look more like little toy horses. People who had lost both legs could sit on wheeled scooters and use to crutches instead of their hands to push themselves around!
Corsets were often used for back injuries, whether the person was male or female. Boards were used at times, too, strapped to the person to support them. (Like an adult cradleboard!)
Leg/arm braces are ancient. They also look REALLY cool. We’re always adding straps to our designs, anyways. Why not make them useful!
Before fitted peg legs, medieval people would design crutches that could be knelt on. Then you would tie the lower limb and crutch together. Same as modern hands-free crutches.
And litters/palanquins are another alternative to wheelchairs. While they limit the person’s independence, that isn’t actually a negative throughout much of history! Wealth was often shown through how many things you didn’t have to do for yourself. Kings were dressed by high ranking nobles. Servants opened doors and put chairs right under your butt so you didn’t have to adjust them. So having servants to do everything for your disabled character can work if you play it right. (Especially if we see other non-disabled characters in similar situations.)
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Those are some other real pre-modern mobility aids. There are many. But, like Bibliosphere said, you don’t have to have proof something existed to use it!
I really like forearm crutches, so my lady from pre-Crusades Palestine uses them, despite their real-world invention being in 1917. (She also has some challenges with keeping the modest silhouette of the period, since it usually requires an arm to hold her cloak closed, and a lot of fabric tripping up the crutches. That’s been fun to figure out.)
I have a non-verbal character that uses a communication board with picture tiles that she can stim with when not communicating. Its design is based on medicine chests, which I adore, and I’m so glad I could find an excuse to add something like this to the story. Its so pretty and makes me so HAPPY.
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In magical or steampunk settings, of course, modern or future tech can be fit in pretty easily. You have to figure out how to describe it properly.
But more ‘realistic’ settings aren’t much harder. You guys, there is SO MUCH about history we don’t know! So many things that one skilled craftsman figured out, and then were lost because they had bad communication skills. So much assistive tech that loving parents spent all their spare time designing, so that their child could grow up as happily as possible. So many things that frustrated disabled people designed to solve their very specific problem, and then never found someone else who would benefit from it or write it down for future generations.
Modern people with arm differences will stick velcro onto their extremity and use it grab fabric so they can put a shirt on independently. Ancient and medieval people were just as ingenious.
If your fantasy hero can figure out modern warfare tactics, or that cool move from Japanese cinema you REALLY want to use, they can figure out an accessibility option that works for them. (Or, more realistically, 85 accessibility options that work for them, since most disabilities aren’t 100% solved with one aid, just like most battles aren’t won using one move.)
I think it’d be neat if you have a character who’s whole vibe seems much cooler than they actually are.
Like, a character could wear black form concealing clothes overlayed with plates of tarnished steel armour who’s metal has been forged into bold and aggressive unnatural shapes.
Their voice could be deep and gravely their every sentence verging on sounding like the roar of an ancient and deadly beast.
And then their job could be a structural engineer who fixes damaged castles well after all the fighting in an area is gone, and even then after they send some workers to begin the repairs they mostly just spend their time snoozing or birdwatching.
You know how fairies and other similar creatures are like super allergic to iron?
Well I was thinking about blood and how that has iron in it, and like I’d imagine the concentration isn’t enough to cause any noticeable harm.
But what if some people had a much higher concentrations of iron in their blood, that’d probably render them immune to most of the tricks fairies try to pull.
They’d also always have access to a material that they could use to defeat them.
Do you know those characters you sometimes see in fantasy stuff who either have dolls for bodies or who use and command dolls in combat?
Well what if a character like that one day decided “These dolls are too weak, I should improve upon them to allow them to be more flexible and durable”
Then to do this they end up creating the features of modern action figures, with stuff like ball joints, mushroom pegs, and ratchets.
All stuff that could probably contribute massively to the field of engineering, but instead it’s used to make a magically powered sword-wielding army of faceless human-sized gi-joes.
CW: Fighting, Bugs If you can’t ever think of a generic enemy that needs to be dispatched by your characters, why not just make a small creature big.
Here are some examples:
A snail is a bit icky normal-sized (In my opinion at least), but scale them up to the size of a dog and then they get a bit freaky.
Then scale them up a bit more to perhaps be horse or cow-sized, and you’ve got a scary sort of creature eating through a farmer’s crops.
A mole would also be a good creature to scale up from its typical size to be bigger, Imagine how hazardous falling into a bear-sized mole tunnel could be.
You should probably also have the moles be monstrous or off-looking in some way. Otherwise, people will probably feel bad about seeing them getting attacked by your characters.
Butterflies would be another good bug to make bigger, just thinking how loud the flaps of their giant wings would be is kinda spooky.
Although in this case just being bigger probably wouldn’t be enough to make them a good enemy, you should probably give them elemental power over the wind as well.
I think an interesting sort of weapon-item-thing could be the ghost of an animal stuck inside a smallish rock or another similarly sized object, which someone then throws at an enemy while simultaneously unleashing the ghost with magic.
It’d also be a good tool for surprise attacks because by the time the enemy realizes that it’s not a normal rock the angry and confused ghost of a jaguar has been unleashed.
I think it’d be an interesting and potentially funny idea for you to have a group of characters be married to each other (or at least claim to be married to each other) entirely for taxation reasons.
And you could also do the whole “Hahaha we’re just doing it for ulterior motives, but are we really?” romance thing.
But it would be much funnier for an entire close-knit adventuring group to just be like “Yep I sure do love my partner for entirely romantic reasons, and we just love taking massive gold hoards from dungeons with our friends who also got married at the same time”
You should have a fight happen in a warehouse as they house many opportunities for dynamic action.
For example, a character could run at a support beam grabbing onto it and using their momentum to spin around in it kicking whoever gets too close.
Or perhaps the characters could pull a sneak attack on their enemies dropping down from the upper floors of the warehouse onto the unsuspecting adversaries below.
And none of this is even mentioning all the potential box and jar destruction that could go on inside the warehouse.
Perhaps some of those boxes could be full of black powder, some jars full of alcohol, and perhaps the mixing of the two combined with the sparks of combat could cause an unfortunately big boom to occur.
In this one I talked about using crystals and other magical artefacts to power up and energize melee weapons, well why not have some variants of those objects passively absorb power from there surroundings letting them recharge themselves to be used again.
And they don’t have to just be used on weapons, they could also be used in staffs to amp up spells, or in armour to give it an extra magical defense.
You don’t need to totally figure out the logistics of it but if you have some fantasy events occur, it could be pretty neat to figure out what the realistic consequences of them occurring could be.
For example, if a dragon attacks a port town could cause there to be a reduction in the amount of trade, meaning there could also be an economic downturn and a reduction in the amount of items available non-basic items available to people.
Another example could be if an evil necromancer takes up residence near a major city, the people there could all of a sudden have to deal with suddenly not being sure of what to do with anyone who dies because if they bury anyone in the usual location they’ll probably end up being turned into a zombie or skeleton.
Final example, If a state with a state religion manages to manifest its diety into the physical realm and said deity was perhaps some kind of giant monster, they could then use the political leverage of having said giant monster diety to help enforce their own interests on other states and peoples they interact with.
I think the juiciness of fruit affects how much it can heal.
As an example, most pears aren’t particularly juicy (in my experience) and as a they don’t make me feel as good after eating
While apples on the other hand can range from having a similar level of juiciness to being quite juicy and that extra juiciness does make me feel better.
Meanwhile, for stuff that’s mostly juice, like berries and oranges (which are also berries I think) the amount they heal is based on how much flavour they have.
I think it’d be interesting for someone to have magical control over vibrations.
This is because there’s a lotta potential different things that you could do with that power, seeing as lots of stuff is technically just vibrations, such as sound, light, heat, states of matter, radio signals, earthquakes, etc
One thing I thought of could be blasting someone with vibrations that disrupt the liquid in their inner ears causing them to lose balance and fall over.
Kings are not exempt from being as evil as their queens. Kings have all of the power in their kingdom and some yield it with cruelty. There are categories of the Evil King.
The Cruel
The Mad
The Cruel
The Incompetent
The Cruel
This king loves to exercise his power over others. He is savage and will torture his people to get all he can from them. He is mostly likely vain and savage and will do anything for power.
Henry VIII: You knew he would be on this list. Henry began his reign as a charismatic and lovable monarch. When his desire and obsession for a son grew, Henry grew more crueler and sadistic. He cast off four wives, killing two of them and abandoning two more. His third and fifth wives are the only ones who experienced a natural separation in death from Henry. While stuffing his face and getting the mediaeval equivalent of catfished, he put thousands to death including the eighty year old Margaret Pole, his mother’s cousin. He was unendingly cruel to his wives and children
Tiberius: The heir of the first Emperor of Rome. He took power after his mother murdered Augustus. He secured his power by killing his popular nephew and two of his grand-nephews while imprisoning his last nephew and grand-nieces. He is rumoured to have built a palace with a pool of young boys to nibble at his genitals whilst he bathed. He was reputedly murdered by his heir, his final grand-nephew Caligula.
Nero: The Roman Emperor who they called the Anti-Christ. Nero kicked his own pregnant wife to death and has his own mother killed. He was fond of sacrificing Christians to lions and making them human candles.
Leopold II, King of the Belgians: You might know this fucker from every show/movie/book made about Queen Victoria. In these adaptations he is presented to be grasping and evil but the truth is far worse. Claiming the Congo as his, he sent in soldiers to force the natives to resource rubber for him making him a wealthy man on the backs of thousands of dead natives.
Genghis Khan, Khan of All Khans: Though he has an awesome back story, the crimes of this Mongolian conqueror are unforgivable. He sacked thousands of towns and cities, burning and destroying as he went. He also allowed his men to rape millions of women some even before their families. He himself has thousands of descendants through these heinous acts.
The Mad
This king is off his rocker. He has lost his marbles and he runs a nation holding thousands of innocent lives. Gods save us.
George III: Mad King George began his reign as a well-liked king but grew worse as he went on. George suffered two periods of illness, one thought to be Alzheimer’s. He was one of the longest reigning British monarchs. Some believe that his madness led to was the cause of his mental instability. He spent his last few years under the Regency of his son.
Henry VI: The son of Henry V. He came to the throne as a baby. In 1453, he became catatonic, unable to speak or do anything. This led to a civil war that lost him the crown in 1461. Henry was reinstated in 1470 but was overthrown within months.
Caligula: The Mad Roman Emperor. Caligula, “Little Boots” was made emperor after the demise of Tiberius. Though popular because of his tragic back story and his hero father, Caligula was as mad as a box of frogs. He tried to make his horse a consul, made the navy build a bridge across a bay so he could ride across it, went to war with the sea and raped his sisters. He was murdered by his bodyguards after a few years in power.
Charles VI of France: Came to the throne at the age of 21 and came to be called “the Beloved”. However, he grew mad and killed four of his knights and attacked his brother. He attacked his wife so much that she employed a mistress so the king could have sex with somebody rather than her. His madness sparked the Hundred Years War.
The Incompetent
This king is useless. He is not fit for the job and he sucks at it so badly, he’s considered a loser.
John I of England: England’s worst king, or so people think. The son of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine, John sh p uld have been a good king. However, he usurped his hero-brother Richard the Lionheart and had his nephew killed. He mistreated his nobles so much, by forcing himself on their wives and taxing them, that they revolted leading to the Magna Carta.
Richard II: This king came to the throne at a young age. He began as a pretty ok, king bravely riding out to meet the peasants who revolted against him. He rebelled against his impressive uncle, John of Gaunt leading to five lords taking him aside, (i.e kidnapping him and holding him prisoner) and having a chat with him. Richard got revenge on these lords later and so incited a coup led by Gaunt’s son, Henry Bolingbroke. He was left starve to death in a cell.
Edward II: the son of Edward I. He came to the throne to relevant peace but then decided to fuck up the applecart. He lost Scotland, the country his father fought bloody wars, at Bannockburn to Robert de Bruce. He lavished titles and honours to his rumoured lover Piers Gaveston and leant on his counsel whilst sidelining his more competent queen. He picked fights with his nobles making them rebel more than once. When Gaveston was murdered, Edward found a new buddy in Hugh Despenser. Edward was such a shitty king that the county supported his wife’s foreign invasion and her regency over their twelve year old son.
George IV: The Prince of Whales, as he was so dubbed. He was more interested in mistresses and extravagance than ruling. He married Catholic to his father’s despair and was bailed out by Parliament frequently due to the massive debts he incurred. George married Princess Caroline and slept with her twice to produce an heir which miraculously he did.
We all know those tired clichés. It’s time to kill them. Take one of them and turn them on their heads or at least these will hopefully keep the errors out of your writing. If you think of any other way to change them up go right ahead. Happy hunting!
I shook my head, trying to clear the image. It was my imagination. There were fairy tales. Humans were not real.
(This is a bit of exploring of some primordial gods I am making with Death and Emptiness as domains. This is also placed in another plane I am making.)
The umbral plane was a place of rolling darkness, crumbling buildings made out of sparkling black stone that could reflect like a mirror. Within the center of it stood a towering citadel with a single white star that sat above it, the only light in the vast darkness.
The citadel was filled with narrow and twisting hallways as well as wide open rooms with a thick layer of dust in it. Others were busy with all manner of creatures silently moving about without rest or pause. Corpses were pushed through hallways and spirits floated aimlessly before being directed to their proper place-death was not as easy as mortals would like to believe after all.
In the heart of the citadel sat a grand throne in a dusty room, the air stale as a figure sat upon the seat of stone. They were a slim, wiry thing with light grey skin that seemed stretched over their skeletal frame with a crown of bone white horns around their head. Hair so dark it seemed to have a blue sheen to it was bound back as a veil covered most of their face, concealing their eyes. The clothing they wore seemed to be made out of the darkest ink, making the rest of the realm appear brillant beside it as ghostly faces formed in the fabric before fading away again.
The only sound in the room was the tapping of a single finger on the arm rest of their seat, head resting on the other hand. Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound went on as a silver moth flew out of the shadows, landing on their hand, the tapping ceasing as they looked over, raising their hand slowly a moment.
“You have been lost in thought, Mort’ith.” an airy voice spoke as the figure in the seat turned their head toward the noise. “I was beginning to worry you’d blend in with the dust soon.” A dark figure went on, featureless nearly save for pure white eyes they had.
“Apologies, Shomi.” Mort’ith responded, voice deep and soothing to hear as they slowly rose from the throne, moth still on one hand as the other reached out, a jeweled cane appearing in hand as Shomi glided next to their sibling silently. “I am…troubled I think. Where are you?” they asked.
“On your right. Like always.” Shomi answered as Mort’ith nodded, beginning to walk forward, cane tapping here and there.
“Of course…” They said, face looking toward the moth again. “What does this look like to you?”
“A moth.” Shomi answered, tilting their head. “White like snow with translucent wings.”
“It sounds lovely.” Mort’ith said as the moth took flight, the deity following it’s path. “I only see the soul. A light with form-strong yet fragile.” they went on as it flew off toward the ceiling before Mort’ith began walking again.
“What troubles you, sibling?” Shomi asked, walking with them, their feet making no noise. “You are known for getting lost in your mind but this is different.”
“Souls pour in from all planes to this place. The Shattering sent so many lights to me yet I still stand in the dark to what caused it. What cracked our beautiful world and nearly destroyed it.” Mort’ith said, pausing as they came to a balcony, looking down as if to survey the umbral realm they called home. “Our one purpose was to create something that would last. Yet I am here, a reminder that nothing may last…”
“Death is ever present. In order for there to be a beginning, there must be an end.” Shomi told them. “Do you not enjoy your lights?”
“I do.” Mort’ith said, continuing along a path that built itself as they walked along the outside of the citadel, Shomi floating behind. “But I am concerned that I will be needed to tell an ending I do not wish to utter.”
“I do not understand your concern.” Shomi said, looking at the white star that sat above them. “If we fail, then we fail. And we will begin again from the emptiness. Back into the void and we will fill it again. Purpose or not, we will march forward.” they stated as Mort’ith paused, Shomi nearly running into them.
“Hmm…” they hummed, not saying more for a moment before walking forward more. “I forget your apathy. Perhaps I should speak with the others about this.”
“I do not conceal my nature.” they agreed. “Though you have expressed annoyance for the others.“
“Yes. But creation has suffered a wound and with Dayfaa sealed away, it will not heal easy. Better to express caution and see what is trying to fester before it can worsen.” Mort’ith said, Shomi not commenting.
(Another Hag dream of Roisin! This is pretty stand alone I think though I do write so much of this fucker, I might be wrong) As sleep came and claimed Roisin, a familiar sound filled his ears, carrying him off to that different realm, feeling that strange feeling of disconnecting from his body. Then, he was standing in that forest with too still branches and a heavy silence. His feet were bare and sunk into the thick blanket of pines and moss below him as he tried to stiffen his muscles-tried to do anything to try to pull away from the sound that seemed to be an undeniable force that pulled him forward past twisted black trees and under a canopy of leaves so thick the light seemed to be tinged green from it. He walked through thorns and brambles though they didn’t cut his skin as he approached a small clearing with a hovel of a house built at the base of the tree. Was it always that way? He couldn’t remember anymore even though this had happened so much it should have some sort of familiarity by now. He should recognize something but it still felt like he was falling and unable to grab the strings that flew by to catch himself. There, standing at her cauldron of iron was the hag, another joining her now suddenly.
The one he knew had molted green skin and long matted white hair. The one he didn’t recognize seemed older, having more of a presence that seemed to make it harder to breathe even though he didn’t need to during this. Not when he was like this. The other hag had dark purple skin pulled back over her skull so it looked uncomfortably tight with a large protruding forehead. A belt of skulls sat along her waist as she loomed over Roisin.
“This is the child?” the purple hag asked. “Strange I have not seen her before.”
“Yes, this is her.” the green hag said, stirring the cauldron as it bubbled and foamed. Roisin felt like he was banging inside his own skull, unable to do anything but watch these creatures eye him like a toy that needed breaking.
“She seems quite…off.” the purple hag noted, stepping over to Roisin, grabbing his hair as she lifted him up by it, pain burning along his scalp as she turned him this way and that, wanting to get a better look at him. “It has metal in it. Do you know why?”
“Something that elves did to improve it. It actually has helped our cause as well.” the green hag said. “Improves her abilities but also makes her so easy to control-she has quite the fire in her yet the song is still undeniably in control.” she said as the purple hag grunted, dropping Roisin as he fell to the ground.
“What will she become?”
“Something new.” the green hag answered with glee. “Something young-its so much easier to lure other faire folk away when we have a pretty face. Plus she has made a relationship with that titanian. Him.”
“Oh?” the purple hag asked, intrigued as Roisin laid there, unable to even dust himself off without being puppeted to do so. “How interesting…This one will prove very useful then. How much longer does she have?”
“Not too much longer. I merely wait until the perfect time to call her-body and soul-back to us. She made a journey to the courts before. If she ends up doing so again, we can bring her to us with our song.”
“Or by force.” the purple added as Roisin’s lip twitched, Roisin wanting to snarl and dig his teeth into them both. The green hag laughed as she noticed the movement as the purple one lifted Roisin and held him over the cauldron, the heat unbearable as he swore he could feel his skin sizzling from it. Taking out a blade, the green hag took his hand and sliced him, dropping his blood into the cauldron as the color changed, the scent becoming almost pleasant though Roisin desperately wanted away from it. Wanted to never see it again as the hag dipped her spoon into it, grabbing Roisin’s face.
“Just let the mind fade away, child. Let your sister’s take care of you.” she said, a wicked grin on her face as the liquid burned its way down Roisin’s throat and settled into the center of him. Roisin woke shaking in a ball, sweating but also freezing as Mote was still in front of his face, making a mewling noise at him as the cat curled close. Slowly, the tremors faded away as Roisin found himself falling back asleep, the details of the dream fading away even as a part of him tried to grasp them.
(This is a fic of Roisin, my dnd character, being so totally subtle as she talks to Dysa, another PC character belonging to @theabsolutevoid)
Roisin was sat with a book in hand in Jive’s bar, hoping the music and atmosphere would help keep her awake though the words on the page began to blur together as she tried to focus her eyes, a soothing call echoing in the back of her mind…
“Roisin?” Came a familiar voice as she started slightly, blinking as she looked over, Dysa there, a large crate balanced on one shoulder as she stood above him. “Shouldn’t Lorn’el be with you?” she asked as Roisin found her voice.
“Oh, yes. He is currently busy however-he spent nearly four hours with me trying to get me to sleep. Seems my body chooses inopportune times to try to nod off.” she said, pushing her hair back.
“Have you tried some sort of sleeping pill when Lorn’el is with you?” Dysa asked, worried.
“I won’t use them. Used more than a few when I was with the Shadows and not on myself.” she told Dysa, placing a bookmark in her book as she closed it. Dysa gave a nod at that.
“Understandable. Come with me then, I am running errands for Destin and can try to help keep you awake until Lorn’el is free again.” she offered as Roisin mulled it over for less than a second.
“That sounds perfect.” she answered, smiling at Dysa as she stepped beside her friend and the two began walking to Destin’s bar.
The bar had just about been refurnished, the shelves of alcohol still a little bare but looking better than they had after the attack though Roisin noticed Destin was not about.
“Where is Destin?” she asked.
“I told him to rest. That is why I am caring for his bar.” Dysa said as Roisin nodded, taking a seat on one of the barstools.
“Makes sense.” Roisin said, dropping her glamor. “And I am sure this is redundant but me and Xyrha are dating now.”
“I thought as much.” Dysa said with a nod. “Given how you two behaved at the tournament.”
“Yes, well…” Roisin said, blushing. “It’s still a bit…new. And given my track record with relationships, I didn’t want to jinx it.” she admitted. “I doubt there’s a planet I’ve been on that I don’t have some stupid mistake wandering around…Or someone who wants to kill me.”
“Given your performance at the tournament, that will be more difficult than they think.” Dysa said, stepping behind the bar, her back to Roisin as she did something. Roisin rested her chin on her hand, staring at the muscles across Dysa’s shoulders though her cloak did obscure them slightly.
“Hmm…” Roisin responded, distracted as Dysa looked over, snapping her out of it.
“You are much stronger than you think, Roisin. I don’t think you have anything to fear.” Dysa added as Roisin felt her heart do a little flip as she reddened slightly.
“Uh, yes. You’re right.” she stammered, clearing her throat as Dysa eyed her, raising a brow but not commenting. Instead, she placed a drink in front of Roisin.
“Drink this, it should help keep you awake until Lorn’el is back from his business.” Dysa told her as she nodded, taking it as she sipped it, blinking it at it.
“Oh, this is very delightful…” she noted, a coffee taste lingering though there was definitely more to it.
“Thank you though it is one of Destin’s recipes. He has showed me how to make different drinks.”
“Oh, that’s always a useful skill.” she noted, sipping the drink happily as there was an awkward lull in conversation as Roisin tried to find a way to shoehorn what she really wanted to talk about.
“Have you had many romantic relationships, Dysa?” Roisin asked as she gave her a strange look.
“No, not really…I am sure you are aware of that however.” Dysa noted, Roisin feeling very exposed under her friend’s gaze as Dysa crossed her arms, drawing Roisin’s gaze to her muscled arms before her eyes darted back to her friend’s face.
“Uh, yes, must be the lack of sleep…” she tried, taking a big gulp of the drink she had. “Anyway…Have I ever told you a story about a…well, definitely toxic but slightly funny polycule I was a part of?” Roisin asked, Dysa looking confused.
“A…what?” Dysa asked. “Sorry, I think I’ve heard of it before but have not had it explained to me.”
“Oh, uh, I should start a little bit back then…” she said with a chuckle, glad she had someone got to this topic, even if it was with the grace of a bull. “So, I am polyamorus so I maintain a consensual relationship with multiple people who are all aware of each other. A polycule is used to describe a group of people participating in a polyamorus relationship.” she explained, slightly proud.
“Oh, I see. What is the story then?” she asked, interested as Roisin paused.
“Story?”
“The story of the polycule you wanted to share?” Dysa prompted, tilting her head, a spark of worry in her eye.
“Oh, right, uh…” Roisin stammered, smiling as her mind went through her various relationships, pausing as she quickly reviewed them. Hm…Those…those aren’t as funny as she remembered them being. “Well, uh…” she stammered, caught off guard suddenly. “Sorry, uh…Thinking back now, it suddenly doesn’t seem as…funny.” she noted.
“Hm…” Dysa said, eyeing Roisin. “Do you know what business Lorn’el was attending to?” she asked, taking the mug she was sipping from away. “You seem…off. And I think getting you sleep is more important than whatever he is doing.” she said, coming back around the counter.
“Oh, uh, I don’t know but I am fine, really-” she began as Dysa carefully took her hand, much gentler than she’d expect.
“Let’s go find him.” Dysa insisted, Roisin following while she was trying to find her voice again.
Gods, she was so gay for her friend and her friend had no concept of romance or flirting when it comes to her.
