Modern Lambert I coloured an old sketch of mine as practice And yes, as soon as something is supposed to visually read as “modern” I tend to give people a face full of metal (even though I have very few piercings myself XD). I just enjoy drawing them a lot.
Thank you @skaldingrayne for spinning a story idea in the Continent Cakeshop Server and thus making me go, oh yesss, I have this thing I still wanna colour!
Post Shibari - Sketch So,@rawrkinjd suggested shibari over at my P*treon I am taking a bit of a different spin on it (which you cannot see yet), and I really hope I’m not totally off the mark here.
I miss Star Trek fandom from time to time but I really miss it around this time of year. It was my only fandom that had (almost) canon Jewish characters and it made me feel so warm and Seen that the fandom embraced that and made all kinds of cute fanart and fanfic that included reference to Hanukkah when everyone else was solely focused on Christmas. All my recent fandoms have been so heavily fantasy based that I can’t really reasonably headcanon stuff like that anymore ):
I’ve been thinking about this quite a lot tonight. As far as introducing Jewish traditions into a fantasy setting, well, why not? If you can’t find yourself reflected in a specific setting, there’s nothing wrong with adjusting the mirror.
In more specific terms, how about a witcher Hanukkah tradition?
It’s a tradition from back before there were all the different witcher schools, back when there was only the Order of Witchers. The Order kept a beacon burning at all times to guide their brothers still on the Path home. To let the beacon go out was to extinguish hope that these brothers would return home at all. The beacon burned without problem for many, many years.
One terrible winter, during a blizzard, the Order ran out of fuel for the beacon. They were trapped by the wind and the snow. No one was able to leave to get any more fuel while the storm raged. And the poor witchers—their hearts collectively broke at the thought of the beacon going out, of seeming to forget those who weren’t with them, but what could they do? Past a certain point, they had nothing they could spare for fuel for the beacon.
And the storm raged. And the beacon…burned.
It burned day after day, and the witchers were beside themselves in disbelief. They didn’t dare check on how this was happening because, well, witchers are fundamentally practical and the beacon was doing better without their interference. But every day, they waited for the flame to gutter. They waited, dreading the moment it would go out.
It didn’t.
Finally, after eight days, the storm subsided and they were off like a shot to get fuel, because, well, witchers are fundamentally practical and they know better than to press their luck. Every moment they didn’t have fuel was a chance for the beacon to go out.
Much to everyone’s relief, the beacon was still burning when they brought the fuel home. They fueled the beacon and it burned like it had done for the last eight days. It burned just like it had in all the days before that.
Time went on and the Order fractured into schools. The beacon doesn’t burn anymore. But the witchers never forgot.
During the wintering season, for eight days, a candle is lit in Kaer Morhen. One for every day the old beacon burned without fuel to bring their ancient brothers home.
That’s the story Vesemir told Geralt and Eskel every winter, when they were small. That’s the story Geralt told Ciri. That’s the story they were telling each other when Lambert got banned from lighting the candles ever again because “apparently, igni from across the room and two floors up is frowned upon in this establishment.”
She raised a brow and coyly smiled at Lambert. “Aw, so you do listen to what I say?”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. How can I not hear you when you’re so damn loud all the time?” Karina pursed her lips. She knew he was exaggerating, considering his hearing is better than the average person’s.
The sorceress pointed at the wine cabinet. “Pick a different one. Or, if you insist on drinking my wine, you’re going to share it with me.”
Lambert looked to the cabinets and back to the bottle he had in his hand.
“Whatever.”
I’m going to tag this forward to @poeti-kat,@theowlseye, and @pikapeppa, all who I know have many wonderful fics under their belts. As always, no pressure to participate if you don’t want to though!
