l'étoile du soir @prophetin - Tumblr Blog

PROPHETESS / ˈprɒf ɪ tɪs / INDEP. MULTI MUSE by luna / any prns / 25+ / central europe. / CARRD / PROMPTS

in constellation with: PREMONITE / WAHRSAGUNG / VISIONAIRES / PRODITEUR

@wahrsagung ( qyira )

“ you went to find the hag without me? ” rhiz calls instead of a greeting. an oaktree door behind him laments his own fate and existence, but he's barely paid the horrors beyond it any glance. he is too focused on following qyira's traces, and he arrives just in time before she enters the den of the evil auntie.

the whole group is here, but he's speaking directly to qyira. she's a lot more knowledgeable and forward than most of them, so she has sort of taken over leadership of their little party ( rhiz contributes the looks and the personality ). most importantly, though, rhiz thought she was his friend. or at least someone who wouldn't leave him to wander the moors in search of some stupid letter to face against a hag all by herself.

#wahrsagung #( NICI ON MY DASH !!! BALDURS GAYS ATTACK )#arhiztor z'lar / txt.

raesource

types of yearning sentence starters

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the sentence starters are being sent for .

“ Don’t make me choose between my duty and you. ”

“ Duty demanded I leave you behind. My heart never did. ”

“ Even magic couldn’t erase what I feel for you. ”

“ I didn’t realise how much I missed you until you were standing right in front of me again. ”

“ I don’t care what it costs - just don’t walk away. ”

“ I hate how much I look for you in every competition. ”

“ I hate you… so why does it hurt when you look at someone else like that? ”

“ I hear your name in every whispered rumour and wish it were mine to claim. ”

“ I keep looking for you in places you’ve never been. ”

“ I kept that thing you gave me. I don’t know why. ”

“ I learned how to live without you. That doesn’t mean I wanted to. ”

“ I never deleted your number. ”

“ I never told you… but I think you knew. ”

“ I still have every letter you never meant for anyone to read. ”

“ I still remember how you take your coffee. ”

“ I think I loved you long before I knew what love was. ”

“ I think part of me will always belong to you. ”

“ I tried to forget you. I failed. ”

“ I was right there, and you still let me slip away. ”

“ I wonder if you ever think about what we could’ve been. ”

“ I would bargain with gods again if it meant keeping you. ”

“ I would tear the world apart just to have you back. ”

“ I would’ve stayed. I would’ve stayed for you. ”

“ If I asked you not to leave… would it change anything? ”

“ If I asked you to run away with me, would you? ”

“ If loving you is a mistake, I don’t want to be right. ”

“ If loving you is betrayal, then I’ve already crossed that line. ”

“ If you were anyone else, I wouldn’t hesitate to destroy you. ”

“ In another life - one without titles or expectations - I would have chosen you. ”

“ It hurts - wanting you this much when I know I shouldn’t. ”

“ It’s strange… how everything reminds me of you. ”

“ I’d choose you. Every time. Every version of this life. ”

“ I’m happy for you. I just wish it had been me. ”

“ I’ve memorised every weakness of yours… including the way you hesitate around me. ”

“ Just give me tonight. I won’t ask for anything else. ”

“ Maybe in another life, this would’ve worked. ”

“ Meet me where no one knows our names - just once more. ”

“ No one knows me like you do. That’s what scares me. ”

“ Say the word, and I’ll forget my place. Just this once. ”

“ Say the word, and I’m yours. I always was. ”

“ Sometimes I think I hear your voice in crowded rooms. ”

“ Take me with you. Anywhere - just not away from you. ”

“ Tell me to stay. Please - just this once. ”

“ Tell me why losing to you feels better than winning against anyone else. ”

“ There’s a space beside me that only ever felt like yours. ”

“ This was supposed to be simple - you, my enemy. Not… this. ”

“ We push each other to the edge—and I don’t know how to stop. ”

“ We were almost something. That’s what hurts the most. ”

“ We were never meant to stand on the same side - and yet here I am. ”

“ When did you stop being just my best friend? ”

“ When I reach the top, I want you there beside me. ”

“ Why wasn’t I enough to make you stay? ”

“ Winning doesn’t feel the same if you’re not there to see it. ”

“ You chose a life that didn’t have room for me in it. ”

“ You crossed my mind today. Like you always do. ”

“ You don’t even know what you do to me, do you? ”

“ You don’t get to come back and pretend nothing changed. ”

“ You feel like something I lost a long time ago. ”

“ You were in my dream again last night. ”

“ You were supposed to be my competition, not my weakness. ”

“ You were the one scandal I would have risked everything for. ”

“ You were the only thing tethering me to my humanity. ”

“ Your name almost slipped out - I had to bite my tongue. ”

“ You’re the one thing I can’t seem to let go of. ”

“ You’re the only thing that’s ever felt real to me. ”

“ You’re written into every prophecy I tried to escape. ”

#rp. / memes #( hi if ur reading this send me 1 u dont have to choose a muse i can assign u one !! )

@swiatelko / hi jinx ( waking from a dream )

lux' voice cuts through the morning air clear and sharp as ice. it sends a shiver down jinx' spine and stops her in her tracks, and it takes her entire self-discipline not to physically recoil. when she washed the sleep off her face earlier, she had hoped the dream would wash off with it. but same as the dry throat and burning eyes that she woke up with, the scenes of it stick with her.

jinx has scary dreams, and she has weird dreams, and really bad ones, sometimes, too. but never something that feels so real; something absurd that she's never considered before but that feels like she's lived her whole life like this. and even if she did, it shouldn't haunt her like this! lux coming up to her and greeting her like any other morning shouldn't suddenly bring up thoughts that she didn't have yesterday.

“ hey, uh, lux. ”

jinx tries her best to avoid her eye. usually she calls lux some nickname, something funny or teasing or cute, but any of those would evoke the wrong feelings this morning. jinx was calling her names in the dream, too. sweet things. horrible things. none of it was real and still, something inside jinx' chest feels ripped and raw in a way she hasn't felt in a long time.

maybe that's what she deserves. hell, jinx will never admit to hurting on her own accord, someone will always have to try to drag it out of her. that was what lux said in her dream anyway, so maybe she deserves having her heart brutally ripped out by her own subconscious like this.

the thought makes jinx grimace. the indomitable strain of defiance inside her refuses to be subdued by something as stupid and flimsy as a figment of her imagination. she takes a deep breath.

“ hey, dumb question: hypothetically, if i'm being too... you know. avoiding. or whatever. you would tell me, right? if it bothers you? ”

jinx is never this confrontational about her feelings, if she can tuck it behind a joke or quiet seclusion, she will. saying it out loud is uncomfortable, but in a satisfying way. like pressing a bruise, just to confirm that it's there. at least she can avert whatever happened to them in her imagination by facing it head-on.

in truth, that's just half of what's sticking with jinx from that weird dream, anyway. the other half, the one with the tender kisses and whispered promises, she's never giving up in a million years. especially not how much it hurt to lose it, even in a world where she never had it in the first place.

#swiatelko #( jinx vc 'i'm gonna be so normal if there was a competition of how normal you can be i'd be the world champion of normalcy' )#star guardian jinx / txt.

@favoriteache / do you ever wish we'd met each other sooner?

remy isn't the kind of person who deals in choices-- the opportunities to make any are few & far between. wishes, however, are entirely more her speed: she wishes in rhymes & soft lullabies. she has been wishing for the impossible since she was big enough to do so, and found that she often wished bigger than most around her. she wished to leave home, unaware yet that a wish and a promise are two different things entirely, and that only one of them brings you were you actually want to go. when that wish turned sour, she wished yet again, and her star guided to yet another prison. she is but a bird wishing for bluer skies, unaware that she will only ever deal with cages. jeff is… well. she doesn't want to be unkind, so the thought comes up cloaked in shame, but jeff is like any other wish she has ever made. in theory, he is breathtaking, and she would do like nothing more than to stay near him. in reality, he is a liar and a thief and he would rather sell her heart on the black market than keep it safe. baldur's gate is but a walk away, and soon the world will take on a new shape: be it from their victory or their failure, nothing will be quite the same. new songs will blossom, history will take on a new cloak. it makes sense that he would question time right now, when it is about to transform into an entirely new tapestry. beneath their feet, clear water flows. the night is bright and full of possibilities. it is a place for nostalgia, or whatever it is when you wish for a past that hasn't happened. remy finds a thousand justifications for his musings, and attempts very bravely not to read anything beneath the question. she barely reaches the river, though she attempts it by dangling precariously over the edge of the wooden deck. with a sigh of failure, she does sit back-- aware, of course, that the question sits uncomfortably between them, addled by the bottle of wine jeff nicked from moonglow's stash a while back. "i don't know," remy tells him, ever honest, red eyes glowing softly in the darkness, looking anywhere but him. "i doubt you would have let me stay, if we had met each other any other way. and i quite like being... well, here. with you." without a wriggling tadpole between them, an anchor of sorts, he would have run the other way. she is sure of it. she has seen many of his kind in the sewers of baldur's gate: friends that you would only keep an hour, before they would leave and never return. "why, do you?" pathetic little tell in the way her eyes grow in size, entirely too big and too sweet, as she turns to face him; hope colors the question, and what is hope but a wish without direction?

wherever life's circumstances ( such as a giant nautiloid airship ) may spit him out, jeff makes sure to take the most he can with him. be that coin, or experience, or information on the people around him; anything that can be of advantage later, however small it may be. it's not so much easy for him as it is natural. his mind will always search an advantage first, whether he means for it or not. there is no magic he has to use to read others, unless you count the magic of practice and adaptation. some of the people they travel with are more open than others who guard their secrets close to their chest, and they all seem willing to go to certain lengths that jeff is more than eager to explore. if they weren't harbingers of an impending soulless death, the illithid tadpoles could be a blessing, linking their minds together to give him a more than favorable vantage point for his selfish machinations.

remy doesn't make it difficult to know her, at least whatever there even is to know. whether it's her nature or her circumstances, from the moment they met has she shown jeff the vulnerabilities in her armor, the soft underbelly of a barely mysterious outer shell. and despite how easy she makes it to play her, or just because of it, somewhere in the heap of solid satisfaction it makes a space for a warmer, softer sort of emotion. not remorse, exactly, although jeff is well aware of his own failings ( it's why he wears them on his sleeve ). no, it's more akin to fondness, or pity, neither strong enough to make him stop, exactly, but enough to sting just so. the smallest pang of bitter-sweetness, an enticing sort of feeling that manages to maintain his interest in this game.

in all fairness, he gives her more thought than any other member of their party, at least. not enough to pay her consideration over his own self-interest, but more than nothing nonetheless. he could probably get her to do anything he asked of her, so it's only fair he have just a modicum of care in return.

he wonders if she truly likes him, sometimes, or if she's just holding onto the first piece driftwood to not drown. if she was more selfish, would it be easier to stay around?

it feels like a cheap trick to get remy alone on the small pier by their last camp before entering the city, but jeff truly did not mean to lure her here for anything but a drink and a shared memory or two. they will string together the most fantastical tales and songs after this journey, if they manage to survive it, and their memories will serve as the greatest inspiration. maybe it's indulgence, but jeff really does feel like there is something that connects them. it won't mean much once they've freed the world or died in the attempt, but he truly does. that's why he asks.

his feet do reach the water, that's why he has them firm and dry on the deck, sitting cross-legged with his lyre across his lap and the wine in one hand. with the other, he plucks three notes, then lets the tip of his index finger trace lightly over the strings, emitting a pitchless sound of metallic vibration. it's quiet, almost tender, and it extends the moment between them. he was never a virtuoso so much as a story teller, but just as the thieves communicate in their cant and the rats whisper between their teeth, a bard's ears will understand music as if it were their second tongue. is it too honest? jeff lifts his head to look at remy.

“ that's not true, ” he responds, but his grin reflects the slightest amount of admittance. just enough to tell her that she knows him so well, doesn't she? “ i think you would've changed me nonetheless. hasn't all this changed you? ” he's avoided the question entirely, because what can he truthfully say? at best, he's politely reminiscing. at worst, he's just here to stroke his own ego. and anyway, the key to an intriguing flirtation is the vagueness of it all -- he could mean a thousand things, even the ones she wishes for.

#favoriteache #( breaking news !! mean male manipulator manipulates himself into sabotaging all that could be true and good !! more at 7 )#( i'm so sorry eve & remy if it helps i'm making myself upset w this )#jeff seymour / txt.

@premonite ( sherlock ) / "Think you can keep up? Who am I kidding, you know you can't keep up."

here comes a challenge, and though its nature does not immediately become apparent, james need only wait a beat for it to reveal itself. sherlock has spotted it a second before him, but evidently found it appropriate to take enough time for his remark to settle in before he makes himself scarce. faster or not, james better follow suit.

the list of things that james can keep up with is generously long and uncommonly versatile, even when compared to sherlock, who by all standards is an extraordinary person. sherlock can't throw a punch nor out-drink him, and his luck with the ladies is equally poor, but if there is one thing the man can do better than anyone, it's running.

a well-known consequence of lying and thieving, if one is either untalented or ( in their case ) unfortunate, is the chance of having the scotland yard on one's tail. sherlock is already in a good load of trouble, and the stocky officer rounding the corner is well on his way towards them. huffing and puffing as he may be, he is directing everyone's attention onto the two men, who, well, are now running as they should.

james is laughing, carefree, because even while running from the police, together with sherlock he's invincible. he dodges a woman with a large basket of vegetables, artfully avoiding a collision without losing much momentum.

“ you wouldn't throw me to the wolves now, sherlock, would you? ” he calls after him, enough breath still in him to laugh and banter. “ if you leave me behind, i may well have to work with the lovely officers to catch you! ”

#premonite #( jk haha unless :-) )#james moriarty / txt.

what if one of our muses had a really vivid and emotional dream about the other and it completely changes how they feel in the next interaction they have while the other is none the wiser

#( acquaintances realizing they could be friends. friends unsure if they want smt more. friends suddenly afraid of eachother )#( bonus points if in that universe dreams Could actually mean something and be a reflection of more than just the subconscious )#rp. / wishes

@wahrsagung nici: let's make a serious rp playthrough with characters as we would write them me: bet,

#( bc he is a aasimar bard and he has like 19 charisma.... like the rizzler.... )#( his full name is arhiztor z'lar tbf and he is a famous entertainer and he thinks he is just that talented but its bc he was born diff )#ooc. / commentary #wahrsagung

Jabba's palace loomed before Pea in Tatooine's twin desert suns. The crimelord's cruelty and depravity were well known. Zairo had infiltrated that place three days ago, and she had not returned. Her commlink had gone dead. The Rebellion could not sanction a rescue. Nor would they provide any extra resources. Zairo was already lost, they said. Too dangerous, they said. That left it up to Pea to save Zairo, if she was even still alive.

pea pulls the her mother's scarf closer around her ears. though the rich ghor fabric feels too heavy for the heat, it's an adequate shield against the sand and sun. heavier than the heat still feels the uncertainty of what's to come; the palace ahead of her is a monument to defiance, but what scurries behind its walls is too eager to play into the empire's pockets if the price is right. zairo knew she'd be going into the den of something dangerous, and if she did not falter, neither will her sister.

those they work with know that they can have both of them together or neither at all, and although they will not make concessions for anyone too far gone to retrieve, they let pea go. tatooine is a speck of dirt on the outer rim of the galaxy, the empire's interest in the planet is but a rumor. zairo is one single person on an off-shot mission hoping to gain an advantage. by all measures, she's insignificant.

the information both sisters share with each other is always a careful balancing act of necessity and risk, just enough to be aware, not enough to put both women in danger. it helps knowing that zairo would never leave her behind, and so the rebel group's choice of informing pea of the dead commlink is more than pure faith. if anyone will get her out, it's pea.

of course she didn't come out here without a plan. step one is to circle the building. find another entrance, ideally one where servants and trade goods flow in and out. lay low until there is an opportunity, then make sure you answer the questions just right. for all she knows, that's what zairo is doing right now, too. the rebellion isn't written across their faces — servitude is what both sisters know to wear and utilise best. as outsiders, gaining trust is the first step to gaining information. together, they might just secure their survival.

#( whoever sent this i love u )#anonymous #pea qiliari / txt.#ooc. / queue

hello my beautiful dash i know u prob don't know me well but it's always an honor hanging out here and stalking ur posts ( both ic and ooc ) !! pls know i'm a big fan of everyone here and i'm very very happy with the dash experience u curate for me, thank you !!!! i will say something about myself ( luna ) under the cut if you'd like to know me better and you can feel free to comment something about yourself ( or your muse ) as well if you'd like 👍

i'm doing a programming degree rn :( with web design & media focus :( because back in 2012 i taught myself html so i could prettify my tumblr theme and now one slippery slope later we are here!! ( i also quit my first bachelor in polsci & sociology but thats ok ) it helped me make the space generator though so that's cool ( very ugly frankenstein code looking back on it )

i like to do little projects and i get really really obsessed until i find a new one and then forget all about it. if u see me revamping my carrd or making new graphics pls know i'd also love to do drafts but unfortunately the brainworms are makingme do something else! same as buying miniature painting brushes and sewing kits and jewelry making tools etc and then forgetting about them 3 weeks later 😛

if we wrote back in 2020 and u feel nostalgic for those times,,, me too,, my old ocs and muses are always in my head so i can whip them out whenever !!!!! i purposely didn't put them on the official muselist bc i thought it might be cringe and i need to show i have grown since then but they still mean a lot to me :( that era rly shaped me i fear

#( not munday i just felt overwhelmed by emotion :) )#( the 1 social media that doesnt make me wanna rip my hairs out yaaay ! and its all thanks to my wonderful mewtwoals )#ooc. / commentary

@altaridem ( Everything needed lulling to sleep. )

❛❛is that what you’re calling it,❜❜ ronan says, flatly, breath whistling down the neck of his nearly empty beer bottle. ‘lulling’ is a word for songs sung at bedtime to children with drooping eyelids, or soft-sweet nothings from manipulative mouths in hostile conversations. not the little pills rattling in kavinsky’s palm-warmed screw-top bottle, not the violent way ronan’s head met the headrest after the first one hit his stomach. now, on the rapidly cooling roof of kavinsky’s mitsubishi, ronan’s almost past his threshold for arguing semantics, which is to say, he’s getting drunk and tired, despite fitful intervals of sleep. trinkets of varying degrees of usefulness litter the dusty fairground — none of them a camaro, except for the tiny one, key-chain-sized, burning a hole into ronan’s pocket. guilt worms its way around his guts, fizzling as it soaks in alcohol and bile. ❛❛shit, if you know how to spell that, you should let mr. milo know. he might be surprised enough to let you pass the semester.❜❜

lynch pulls words apart like a hungry dog, starved for meaning. or maybe in the years of wagging his tail around dick gansey's legs he's been able to catch a few scrap brain cells fallen from the table. lynch shouldn't be a follower, k finds. it makes him slow and dull, and neither of those suit him.

kavinsky lets his head roll onto his shoulder like a careless bottle, his sideways gaze swashing lazily over the brim of his sunglasses. the simmering heat of early summer seems to slow him down like everyone else, but something inside kavinsky is activating. a prelude to the fire. he gives lynch his sluggish, suffocating, dark-molasses-smile.

“ you didn't hear me right. i'm awake, if i'm in here, ” he taps the side of his temple “ or not. everything else needs to, y'know, ”

he takes his index finger from the side of his skull and points it out towards the world, like pulling a gun from a dream. in his imagination, he has pulled the trigger countless times.

there is nothing soft about sleep for them, it's dark feathers and fire every night, red eyes and frozen muscles every morning. kavinsky plummets into unconsciousness and comes out half-alive on the other side. what about that is fair?

the valley's breath slows as the last sliver of light sinks behind the horizon. k sits up from his comfortable position to put his face right next to lynch's. in the darkness, half of his expression is a guess.

“ just for once, what if we stayed awake and put the world to sleep instead. ”

#altaridem #altarcup #( someone needs to tell K that he's not Him lil bro... )#( sowry this took me 2 business years to finish i hope u cam work w it )#joseph kavinsky / txt.

moiraine damodred i wish i could kiss u

#( never got around to watching twot till now bc im not giving am*zon any extra money and none of my Special Sites had it )#( but omg she fills my heart with passion what a woman )#ooc. / commentary

favoriteache

favoriteache.tumblr.com by eve.

#( everything eve writes goes triple platinum in this house )#( also im obsessed with that promo graphic icl )#ooc. / promo

mythshire

°☠*:·゚ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ··· a collection of survival instinct, found family, moral compromise & last days of humanity roleplay sentence starters. genre: apocalyptic, angst, hurt and comfort, life or death.

• How long has it been since you've seen another person? • You need to eat. I don't care if you're not hungry. • That's the last of the clean water. We have maybe three days. • Don't go out there. Not after dark. • I heard gunshots about two miles west. We need to move. • You're burning through supplies like we have somewhere to restock. • I can't remember what coffee tastes like anymore. • Show me your arm. • The radio's been silent for six days now. • I found a Polaroid in that house. Look—people used to smile like this. • We're not taking them with us. We barely have enough for ourselves. • You've been coughing for three days. Don't lie to me. • I think I saw smoke on the horizon. Could be a settlement. Could be a trap. • This is the fourth body we've found this week. • You want to talk about what happened back there? Or are we just going to pretend? • I'm not leaving you behind. I don't care what you say. • The fence has a breach. Something got through last night. • When was the last time you slept? And I mean actually slept. • You're rationing your own food to feed me, aren't you? • I can still hear the sirens sometimes. Even though they stopped months ago. • We can't stay here. This place is compromised. • I found batteries. Three AAs and a nine-volt. • You never told me what you did before all this. • That's a gunshot wound. Who shot you? • I haven't seen the sun in four days. This ash won't clear. • We're down to eleven bullets. Make them count. • I know what day it is. It's your birthday. • The last time I trusted someone, they stole half our supplies and disappeared. • You're running a fever. Sit down before you collapse. • I can't do this anymore. I can't keep watching people die. • We have to go back. I left something—someone—behind. • You've been talking in your sleep. About before. • I found a working generator. We could have power for a week, maybe two. • You're the only person left who knows my real name. • That smell means the bodies are close. Cover your mouth. • I'm not asking you to forgive me. I'm asking you to survive. • The coordinates led us here. There's nothing. It was all a lie. • How many people have you killed since this started? Don't lie. • We used to have rules. Remember that? • You took the last dose of antibiotics. That was for the kid. • I saw your hand shake when you raised that gun. You're not okay. • This is it. This is all that's left of the world. • I can't remember their face anymore. Isn't that terrible? • You're planning to leave, aren't you? I can tell. • We found a car with half a tank. That's a goddamn miracle. • You didn't have to kill them. They would have left. • I'm trying to remember what music sounded like. • This is the third night you've taken watch. You're going to get us killed. • The map stops here. Everything past this point is unmapped territory.

#rp. / memes #ooc. / queue

you get a bg3 verse and YOU get a b3 verse AND YOU! get a bg3 verse !!!!!!!!

jeff is an evil evil bard boy who LOVES to abuse vicious mockery and be mean to people and call them names ( even outside of combat ). he will probably talk himself out of conflict as much as he talks himself into it, and seem to sweet-talk his less intelligent opponents while covertly insulting them to their face.

killian is a wizard from a long line of ( snooty ) wizards who sent their young to school to study magic because they can afford to. unlike his family, though, who are world-renowned in the school of abjuration, killian has broken tradition and chosen the evocation school ( only the surface of his waywardness ).

atlas is a wild magic sorcerer from a coven of divine soul sorcerers. evidently, their ways of teaching him how to harness his magic have not taken hold, as his own type of magic comes from natural chaos which he is entirely trying to suppress. hence, he is supremely useless and only by chance stumbles onto a lucky piece of information or another. ( do you like his charisma stat btw that's his spellcasting ability )

corian is the no-nonsense hunter ranger genuinely just wants to go home. she rarely speaks of her past, but bit by bit you'll find out that she was exiled from her country for hunting the duchess' game for her impoverished family and getting them to baldur's gate was her hope to provide for them.

joni has always tried to be well-behaved and diplomatic. her zariel lineage does not define her, she has ambitions and hopes and she is an overall pleasant person! there's just this deep-seated rage that overtakes her, makes it impossible for her to think straight. how will she be a successful diplomat in the city if she cannot contain herself?

how was an illithid able to capture an immortal? leona proudly maintains that she is celestial, but the truth is that she has been long-banished from the upper planes for her ceaseless quarrels with another celestial. though mortal again, she is still undeniably god-touched, but the radiance of the sun that shines through her is but an echo of the power that once flowed through her. ( essentially an high elf aasimar oath of devotion paladin but i liked the outfit from the mod so shhh )

once picked by the moon herself to live in the palm of her hand, diana now too has been cast back into the material plane for her transgressions. a stroke of bad luck after the other, she finds herself infected with a mindflayer parasite and stuck in the same camp as the celestial who caused her fall. ( aasimar cleric of twilight )

seraphine wants to see the world! she is a freshly graduated college of glamour bard who loves to enchant her audience, one way or another. music is her way to make friends! even when there is a tadpole trying to take over your brain.

lux was already a student of magic in baldur's gate when a cosmic power offered her and her best friend immeasurable power in exchange for saving the world from darkness ( and protecting its own cosmic light ). what could go wrong, right? ( celestial bond warlock )

while jinx is always down for some mischief, she was not entirely prepared to sell her soul for magical powers. well, they are really cool and she gets to blow stuff up. having another entity in her brain is not exactly what she signed up for, though.

#ooc. / commentary #( ignore the uggo outfits one day i will make an actual playthrough where i can give them cool clothes etc )#tbt

how would you define vigilante's perception of morality? how does this perception react when challenged, especially by conflicting events (ie. murdering someone to prevent more murders, the trolley problem, etc)? is there anything that could cause him to question his own sense of morality? what events or circumstances shaped these perceptions?

so ummm this is a tricky question because something is very not alright with vigilante. he is literal to a fault, unable to distinguish nuance, and strict about his arbitrary interpretations of both laws and rules as well as societal norms and mores. he does not have his own sense of morality, at all. to him, jaywalking and robbing a bank are equally punishable crimes. and his definition of punishment is usually very violent. if you smoke weed somewhere where it's illegal, he might take you out with a sniper rifle, because you broke a law. then at the same time, he will also bash in the head of any racists and homophobes he encounters, even though there's no written out law for that. if he's so un-empathetic and follows such a skewed version of a moral code, where does this sense of social justice come from? and why is he so happy killing, maiming and hurting?

to me, i don't think this requires any deeper analysis. he is weird, and he is funny, and he has no internal sense of morality to a point where it's illogical because he is an intelligent individual that should've at least picked up something in his time. why? just because. vigilante is not a character that i wish to write as if he were a real person. this is a comic book character in a world where absurd things happen that are humorous in the way they are framed but outright horrific if they would happen in real life. he is a satirical pastiche of the genre ( as is the entire peacemaker show imo even though it seamlessly(ish) latches into the bigger g.unn canon ) that means to highlight how superhero vigilantism is a matter of putting personal judgement above the laws and systems in place to actually uphold order and protect people, which is an absurd idea. "giving reasons" to why he is the way he is delves a bit too deep into pathology in a way i don't find appropriate. both j.ames g.unn ( writer ) and f.reddie s.troma ( actor ) have said ( and i agree ) that vigilante is not supposed to be a canonical representation of real people ( i.e. neurodivergence or personality disorders ) because it would be actively harmful. if people relate to him that's cool, but he is not meant to reflect on anyone in real life who speaks in a similar manner or has similar struggles, because he actively murders people and is a very bad person. dragging this sort of discourse into any deeper analysis of his character is a very bad trajectory i do not wish to follow :)

#proditeur #( i am so sorry to curveball you g this became even more meta than normal meta lol )#( he is my silly cardboard cutout concept character )#vigilante / meta

out of all my dnd/bg3 pcs i think at least 60% are devotees of lathander ( or an equivalent sun deity ), what does that say about me.....

#ooc. / commentary #( something about seeing the monastery in the game changed me..... but also some is just by chance i swear )

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