*reads. the reblog* Man how many gods are in this pantheon. Do they have refs. Is ref existence? I know we have loop. Moontide also kinda exists, but only kinda. I want to see these guys. They sound so fun.
Wait a minute- What are the other gods doing as sif and change god are doing the tango of misunderstanding
(BLOOD/EYE TRAUMA AND NUDITY BELOW)
i am GLAD YOU ASKED!!! gonna put a cut here bc this post is pretty long and also don’t want people to get jumpscared lol
okay so first of all. the second part of the question before i forget it exists lol. the other gods are trapped on the island! they’re still conscious and moving around, they just can’t leave, nor can they do anything about the curse. the rest of the island is in a sort of… stasis? if that makes sense?
so pretty much they’re all stuck there waiting for something to happen and cheering eclipse on lmao
and as for how many gods… the answer is “yes”. if a concept is big enough to feature in wishes, then it’ll have a god that is worshipped! in my brain, there’s some gods that don’t actually “exist” and may never exist as individuals rather than concepts. astreia has a Lot of gods!! most of them aren’t actually conscious
generally these are known as minor gods, and they don’t have faces or names, and sometimes not even titles!
but if enough people wish enough times within a short span of time, that wish energy can create something. it sort of goes from concept -> dormant god -> waking god -> vessel given -> learning and growing as a vessel -> proper awakening -> full-fledged physical god
the celestial gods (loop/euanthe/solstice/change, siffrin/eclipse, moontide, and suncloud) are sort of the exception to this, in that they’ve… always existed? in a way? they aren’t born of human emotion or desire. they’re technically Outsiders to the world which is fun
lamb and feast are Also exceptions to this, but only because they were born purely of wishes before astreia learned to create vessels :3
there were some examples given in the end notes of breaking the cycle, but we haven’t really drawn them much? there’s a couple exceptions, but mainly they exist as ideas in our brains. but!! i can put some descriptions here and also the few i have drawn!!
this is serpent of remedy, mainly known as remedy for brevity‘s sake. they became aware following the second part of astreia’s civil war. any/all but they prefer people pick one pronoun and stick with it for a while lol.
they’re generally docile but very resolute—determined to do the right thing, make good choices, and make up for their shortcomings.
remedy represents all sorts of health, mental and physical! they want people to take care of themselves and each other, and they lead by example in that they spend their time wandering the island, offering their services as a traveling healer. they are one of the first gods euanthe talks to upon their return to the island, and their relationship is sort of… well, complicated.
this is the moon that pulls the tides, usually known as moontide, and later on, tal! they/any, but mostly they. they’ve been present for quite a long time, but they go through periods of hibernation and waking. technically, they have a physical body, but not in the same sense as other gods :3
moontide is pretty playful overall, but in the sort of way where they don’t quite realize the impact of their actions? in the same way the ocean can be gentle and relaxing but in the next moment drag you under. they’re also deeply angry underneath it all.
they represent, obviously, the moon and the tide! the movement of water and its depths, the relation to the moon in that sense, as well as the cyclical nature of it all. they’re also a god of protection—guarding what you have with teeth and claws and violence. the first blow. the last.
they’re also one of eclipse and change’s older siblings
(Nudity here)
(i asked for these images and ray said “Helio does not wear clothes and I keep not using the built in censor bar as a censor bar” lmao)
this is sun that guards the clouds, otherwise known as suncloud, or later, helio :3 ae/she. much like moontide, ae goes through periods of waking and dormancy, and at some point is granted a physical body to match them.
she’s pretty chill, quite knowledgeable and uses that knowledge for good! mostly. ae has a mischievous side to aer… she can also be incredibly overwhelming on occasion. like when the sun blinds you, or the clouds obscure your vision. suncloud is not angry so much as she is… hm. determined, perhaps? steadfast.
ae is a bastion, to any and all, protecting those who cannot protect themselves. she represents the sun, and all weather to some degree, though storms in particular fall into a different domain. suncloud is the shield to moontide’s sword—they both protect the people but in vastly different ways.
moontide is scrappy, taking any opportunity and using it. suncloud is overwhelming, pushing the enemy back with unrelenting force. they complement each other :3
ae is the second of eclipse and change’s older siblings
(Blood/eye trauma)
and our favorite, lamb that bleeds and flees :3 and a doodle of ram that screams and dies, as a treat (this is also lamb, just the form it takes on when it appears on a battlefield. it doesn’t like this form. it prefers to be a weak and dying thing.)
i uhhhh. don’t know what pronouns we use for this guy. it? they? some mix of those prob (it/its -Ray)
lamb in particular is a bit strange because it's less of a person than other gods? it was born out of desperation, out of a plea for survival, out of endless bloodshed. for the longest time, that was all it knew.
(the feast that runs and rots is similar in this regard. they were born out of desperate hunger, starvation, pleading for just one more scrap, one more morsel, that might let you live to see another day. long enough to outlast the famine.)
they are a god of… i want to say necessity, but that doesn’t feel right. they’re a god of instinct, born out of terror, praying and begging that one might see the morning. hiding away from the clash of steel and the sound of boots on earth. they are the ones left behind. the survivors.
(feast is starvation, but it is also plenty. it is the satisfaction of a warm meal at midnight, the joy of seeing a field to its harvest, the heartbeat of a hunt in your throat as you fell a deer that will feed your family for a couple of weeks. it is tears falling upon your hands as you taste something that is not dirt and grass for the first time in days.)
anyway. in this case they don’t really have the same sort of… drive that other gods do. they’re mostly ruled by instinct and the perceptions of people around them. lamb will linger on battlefields, but they stop for people to drape them in flowers. feast is always running, but sometimes, they will pause to laze in the sun.
but at the end, they will always return to what they were meant for. lamb will always flee. feast will always chase. it’s a cycle they cannot escape
anyway! that’s all! if y’all have any questions feel free to ask in the comments or our ask box :3
Good to see you active mod! Quick question. What would you say is the best/your favorite Claude hidden gem film? Outside of his main known pictures or that you weren't expecting much going in and ended up really liking it. For me I would say The Unsuspected and The Passionate Friends. And small shout-out to him being adorable in Pied Piper of Hamlin.
it's so good to be back! and thank you all so much for (hopefully) not forgetting me and the blog :) and OUGH pied piper mention with his silly little dancing in color.
(and for reference, i'm always lurking about even if i am not so much 'active' with reblogs and such but i LOVE questions like these!)
i would definitely say that 'moontide' is a good hidden gem film! for starters, it goes against claude's usual 'type' of suave villains and i often find that when he plays more sympathetic roles (like mr. jordan or adam lemp), it strikes me just how incredible his versatility is as an actor. it's a lovely treat, genuinely. nutsy is just a regular, perhaps down-on-his luck guy who just...enjoys going with the flow. he sticks up for his friends, spouts philosophy while eating pretzels, and hasn't slept since 1936. he is a side character but it's in these little moments that he shines and in my opinion, becomes a much more memorable character than anna or bobo. and he just LOOKS adorable - i mean, he's like a scrungly teddy roosevelt!
you all can watch moontide here and if you do, let me know your thoughts!
and so what if it's only one of two times claude rains is shirtless onscreen?
edit: and for the record, i did see your other ask! your words were incredibly sweet and thank you so much :)))
Potterypool went missing for a few days. Her body is eventually found in the territory.
[Image ID: Moontide runs toward something offscreen, with Shrewflame, Thundergale, and Yarrowclaw behind her. Shrewflame yowls, "Moontide, don't touch her!" Under Thundergale it reads LEVEL UP! GOOD HUNTER → GREAT HUNTER. Under Yarrowclaw, it reads LEVEL UP! TALENTED FIRE-STARTER → FIRE MASTER.]
Shrewflame was a sprinter, but when he couldn't smell the ocean, the forest provided him security over the open southern reaches, despite the many obstacles in his way. In some ways, the obstacles were better. They were a challenge, allowing Shrewflame to launch himself from rock to rock, tree to tree, flying through the land with the speed of a peregrine falcon. Limp leaves flew out behind him, spooking the occasional squirrel. Shrewflame laughed as a cold wind stunned his cheeks.
Yarrowclaw, Thundergale, and Moontide sat around a particularly scratched-up grouping of pines. The caretakers loved to climb the low-hanging branches, as it was easy to collect bark and wood for the clerics and artisans. It was also a go-to spot to rake your claws down the trunks, leaving permanent gouges in the bark. Thundergale scratched at the tree while Moontide and Yarrowclaw chatted, nested in the fallen needles. Shrewflame burst into the scene, skidding through the leaves with another hearty laugh.
"Sorry if I'm late!" Shrewflame chirped. "I was helping Whitekit settle on training for later this moon. He wants to be a historian."
"Good for him," Thundergale said a bit too loud. Her words were muffled as though talking with her mouth full. Shrewflame bit down the slight disappointment that bubbled with his mentor's words. The spoken word no longer sounded as clear to Thundergale, it seemed. How long would it be until Thundergale could never hear Shrewflame's laugh or the hum of bird song again? She would be alright, she would still be happy, she wouldn't even lose her stride in the growth of her new role (so many cats asked for lessons that Lettucestar asked for one of the teachers to stay in SlugClan for a time and share their new ways). Still, a loss like that could still be mourned. Shrewflame stopped himself from making a mouse-brained comment about Thundergale's voice and instead settled beside Moontide.
"We were just chatting with Yarrowclaw," Moontide explained. Shrewflame's enthusiasm sombered even more with Moontide's monotone. It was clear what was on her mind. Potterypool had left camp a couple days prior, but had not returned that night. Should Shrewflame comfort Moontide? Despite her switch to the teacher position, Shrewflame didn't know her well. He may have learned the basics of mediation from Spikecrash and Paleseed, but he was far from sweet-tongued.
"I'll tell you what I told these two," Yarrowclaw sighed, flicking her ears at the mollies. Shrewflame quickly took up translating for Thundergale on instinct. "If all we talk about is day-night cycling, I'm going back to camp."
"That's only part of what we could learn from you," Thundergale signed, with Shrewflame translating back for Yarrowclaw. Thundergale hopped away from the tree and stood beside Moontide. "Yes, as one of the few cats in recent Clan history with this condition, we want to learn about it so if others have questions, they don't have to interrogate you. But you're a great fighter, and I've never seen anyone sneak up on you. Every member of the Clan has a lot they can teach future generations. If we're going to learn from any of our Clanmates first, you're the one I want to hear from."
"So you want me to talk about myself?" Yarrowclaw asked. Thundergale nodded eagerly. Yarrowclaw sighed and sat up, stretching her flank high. "If that's how I'm spending my afternoon, we aren't going to just sit here. I want to check on the river near the SlugClan border. Come with me and I'll answer your questions."
"But—" Shrewflame huffed, not able to finish translating Yarrowclaw's answer. Yet Thundergale put her tail on Shrewflame's shoulder.
"You can tell me what I miss later," Thundergale said, shaking her head. Shrewflame tensed, but he nodded anyway. Yarrowclaw led the three teachers north, one ear turned back to them.
The sun shone behind a thick layer of light gray clouds, a reflection of Shrewflame's suddenly smothered mood. He pretended otherwise, however, constantly running ahead of Yarrowclaw before "remembering" what he was supposed to do and jogging back. Even the mice seemed to force their mood, skittering in the distant leaves rather than hide from the four fierce hunters. With Thundergale unable to keep up with the conversation and Moontide as quiet as the moon itself, it felt like Shrewflame was talking to himself. He bounced against Thundergale's initial interests and groomed his questions toward Yarrowclaw's supposed specialities.
Usually, Shrewflame would love to hear how Yarrowclaw learned to hunt without a sense of depth, how she honed her senses, how the mediators taught her to harness her day cycles in a healthy way. Yet it didn't feel right. Thundergale couldn't participate, Moontide wasn't engaged, and Shrewflame found himself missing his little brother. Whitekit was hilarious! It helped that he looked at Shrewflame like the sun, but maybe Whitekit could have made Yarrowclaw laugh or loosened her mouth with his unique, cautious charm. At this point, Shrewflame should have just joined a border patrol.
"I'll tell you what I told Wolverineheart as a kit," Yarrowclaw sighed as the Great Northern River came into view. "I have my nose. I have my ears. I can feel the wind on my whiskers and pawsteps through the ground. I can get by with one bad eye."
"Good to know," Shrewflame said, glancing between Moontide and Thundergale. "Well, um, we're at the river! Do we want to rest by the water for a bit?"
"Dog," Thundergale suddenly gulped, gaze locked on the other side of the river. Moontide, Yarrowclaw, and Shrewflame stiffened. They gazed over the gray river, whose white foam caught what light leaked through the clouds. The tanning grass rippled in the wind, which carried the dangerous scent to the patrol. Heavy paws scrambled through the fading undergrowth. The dog's golden brown pelt melted against the dying leaves as it burst into view. One of its floppy ears was stuck inside-out and its tongue dangled out of its loose lips. The brown-eyed beast turned back toward the trees, wagging its tail wildly. Shrewflame couldn't see its human yet, but he heard them cracking leaves underfoot.
Shrewflame had never seen a dog so close before, but the sight still made his back arch. He grew up with his mothers' stories; Wildclaw and her various confrontations with overeager pups, Rattlepelt and her near-death experience with the darkhound that took Mousesong, the aunt Shrewflame never knew. All of Shrewflame's lessons and the scars sported by his Clanmates taught him never to underestimate a dog, especially one that hunted alongside a human.
"The dog seems well-taught," Moontide noted softly, signing quickly. "I don't think it will cross the river unless its human does, and Venturedapple says humans hate wading through water."
"I'll keep my eye on it," Yarrowclaw promised, dead eye facing the three teachers as Yarrowclaw glared across the border.
The dog sniffed at the grass lining the river, uninterested in the cats beyond. Its nose led it between a pine and a fir, where recently disturbed dirt protruded in a mound. The dog lunged at the mound like a kit pouncing on a leaf. Its thick paws dug rapidly. Dirt flew into the river and floated toward the sea. The smell of decay brushed Shrewflame's nose. The human emerged from the trees with a swift bark. The dog bounced back, thoughtless eyes gazing joyfully up at its master. Though the human's misshapen paw rubbed the dog's head, their attention lingered on the mound. Whatever the human saw, Shrewflame couldn't make it out from his position.
"That smell," Moontide gulped, eyes as big as her namesake. Shrewflame didn't know what she meant as the human crouched by the mound. They brushed aside loose dirt and continued some of their dog's work. They purred low, a purr of pain rather than contentment. Their leather-lined paws reached into the mound and slowly lifted up what laid beneath.
A dark red cat laid in the human's grasp. Blank gray eyes stared at RippleClan territory. Blood smeared her marbled pelt.
So that's where Potterypool had gone.
"Drop her!" Moontide suddenly shrieked, charging to the riverbank. "Drop her right now! Don't take her!" The golden dog barked at Moontide's yowls. Even the human turned their head, noticing the Clan cats for the first time. Shrewflame, Yarrowclaw, and Thundergale all stood beside Moontide, the river licking their paws as they hissed at the human. The human glanced down at the body in their grasp, cradled close to their chest. Their attention drifted between Potterypool and the living cats. Their paw absent-mindedly stroked Potterypool's still pelt.
"There are good humans, right?" Shrewflame yowled like there was some chance of the human understanding him. "Maybe you're one of them! Just put her body down! She's our friend!" The human held Potterypool tighter. Their eyes shimmered. The human slowly sat beside the unearthed mound. The dog came close, sniffing Potterypool's body, but the human hissed at it, shielding the dead cat. The human carefully laid Potterypool beside the disturbed earth. They arranged her legs gently underneath her. They made it look as though Potterypool was curled up, deep in a peaceful dream. The human stroked Potterypool's head, whining. Blood covered their paws. They even rested their muzzle against Potterypool's forehead, as though participating in vigil. Could humans truly care about cats so deeply, even cats they never met?
The human stood and made a sharp bird-like song to their dog. The dog walked alongside the human, eyeing Potterypool and the living cats. Yet it stayed tame as the human led it back through the trees. As soon as the pair slipped through the undergrowth, Moontide dove into the river.
"Moontide, don't touch her!" Shrewflame yowled. Moontide swam with the river pushing against her side. She crawled onto the opposite bank as Shrewflame raced for the stepping stones. The cold water numbed his paws. He slipped onto the grass beyond the border. Moontide reached her paw to Potterypool's curled body just as Shrewflame snatched the white molly's scruff and tugged her back.
"Shrewflame, get off of me!" Moontide cried, paws smacking at Shrewflame.
"Look at her, Moontide!" Shrewflame hissed, letting go and shoving the frantic molly back. "She's covered in blood. She was buried beyond the border. A dog or fox wouldn't have done that. Think!" Yarrowclaw and Thundergale joined the pair on their side of the river. "We need codekeepers. That's the right way to do this. They should get a look at her body before anyone else disturbs her."
"She's been here all this time," Moontide whined, shaking. "I patrolled by here yesterday. I didn't see her!"
"Thundergale and I will go back to camp," Yarrowclaw promised. "We'll find some codekeepers." The air hung stiff around them, aching for some sort of comforting phrase before the two mollies left, but Yarrowclaw and Thundergale were silent. They slowly crept away from Potterypool's body and back to the river. Moontide moaned as Yarrowclaw and Thundergale hurried back to RippleClan territory.
Moontide sunk low, one paw stretching out toward her sister. Her instincts fought against her common sense, desperate to touch Potterypool's matted, dirty fur, shake life back into her lungs. But Shrewflame kept a paw on Moontide's leg, refusing to look away from Potterypool's body. When he looked past the slight decay, past the scent of death and dirt and the river's mist, Shrewflame could make out distinct trails of blood staining Potterypool's already dark red fur. Shrewflame didn't need a codekeeper's training to see this was the work of a cat. But who?
(Shrewflame: 13, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)
(Thundergale: 21, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)
(Yarrowclaw: 24, female, warrior, cold, fire master)
(Potterypool: 24, female, caretaker, sneaky, great singer)
Stormjump and Honeybuzz proudly announce their commitment to one another as mates before the Clan. Meanwhile, Waspdawn battles an infection in his tail stump.
[Image ID: Stormjump and Honeybuzz preen together while Cobaltchaser and Lightningrunner sit with Waspdawn in the back. Under Waspdawn, it reads + INFECTION. Under Stormjump, it reads + MATE: HONEYBUZZ. Under Honeybuzz, it reads + MATE: STORMJUMP.]
---
"It was an intentional burial," Waspdawn muttered as Troutpool rubbed an infection-fighting balm into the amputated stump of his half-tail. "Someone didn't want her body to be found. Why?"
"Waspdawn, maybe you should just rest," Cobaltchaser suggested, grooming her older brother's head. "Overthinking this isn't going to help your fever."
"But he's right, Cobaltchaser," Lightningrunner huffed. "This is bad. It's like the story with Scrubmask. This could be another war with the Witch Hunters!"
"Take it from someone who was actually there for Scrubmask's death," Troutpool sighed, finishing the last of Waspdawn's balm. "Whoever left her body there didn't care who found it. Potterypool's situation is different."
The four cats sat together in the medicine den, noses plugged with the smell of infection and herbs. Waspdawn sat with his tail stretched out of his nest. His furless tail-tip blistered red, some unknown infection creeping into the scars of his amputation. Cobaltchaser and Lightningrunner kept him company as sunhigh glared down on the noisy camp clearing. Despite the overwhelming scent of the medicine den, the smell of dried fish still managed to soak through the den walls from the meal outside.
Most of the Clan surrounded Honeybuzz and Stormjump, congratulating the pair on their official declaration of matehood. Waspdawn's daughter beamed under all the attention. Stormjump purred and laughed as cats like Wildclaw and Rabbitjoy offered their advice and jokes. Honeybuzz's brothers shoved against him, laughing at the top of their lungs. Honeybuzz's eyes carried a softness that had been absent in recent days. From the look of the crowd, it would have been hard to believe that one of their own had been found murdered the day before. Yet the signs were there in what was absent; Halibutdusk could not been seen. They were likely hiding out with Downstar in her den. Moontide and Vervaincough were also distant, moving away from the crowd as soon as they congratulated their older brother.
"At least they sound happy out there." From the other side of the medicine den, Mosspounce laid with his legs at awkward angles, shifting constantly. Clean bandages wrapped around his head, smothering any light before it reached his tattered eyes. If the cougar's claws were as vicious as the stories from last moon claimed, it was impressive Mosspounce still had a face to show off.
"If you're lonely, Mosspounce," Troutpool sighed, "I can have someone guide you through camp."
"Lemmy will be back soon," Mosspounce said with a dismissive flick of his ear. "I can congratulate the happy couple later. I want to keep listening to your theories, Waspdawn. Lemmy's been tight-jawed about the investigation."
"She hasn't been involved," Waspdawn muttered. "We're keeping the investigation to myself, Puddlewhisper, and Cobaltchaser here."
"My brother trusts me," Cobaltchaser purred, squirming with prideful satisfaction.
"More like knows you couldn't have done it," Troutpool awkwardly pointed out, cleaning the balm from her paws. "You were stuck in the dirtplace the day Potterypool vanished." Mosspounce snickered as Cobaltchaser stiffened.
"So we're really considering that someone in our Clan killed Potterypool?" Lightningrunner gulped.
"There are other suspects," Waspdawn assured her. Troutpool shuffled through her herbs as Waspdawn explained. "A Witch Hunter could have killed Potterypool and hidden the body to maintain peace between them and us. Puddlewhisper and Paleseed are going to the human settlement tomorrow to interview Pearl."
"Cobaltchaser, can you fetch a clean bowl?" Troutpool sighed, plucking a jar from her stores. "Your brother needs something to drink his red osier decoction from. It should ease his fever." Cobaltchaser quickly jogged out of the den, set on her new mission.
"Can we even punish someone if they aren't in our Clan?" Lightningrunner asked. "Would Downstar go to war over the killer if their Clan or colony didn't give them up?"
"I know I would," Mosspounce huffed. "Take it from someone who had a paw in the Clan's first war with the Witch Hunters. When our cultures are so different, you can't avoid a fight if you hope to change things. They deserved a battle for kidnapping Carnationspeckle. What sort of justice is it when a killer goes free?" Lightningrunner hung on Mosspounce's words. Waspdawn's heart spasmed, an ache traveling through his blood. The dread of murder fueled his fever and forced his head down.
"You're staying in here for a while, Waspdawn," Troutpool sighed, grooming Waspdawn's neck. "No investigations for you."
"Downstar gave me responsibility…" Waspdawn muttered. He sat up, his head swimming.
"You can share that responsibility with Puddlewhisper," Troutpool said. "Please, lay down. You need to rest."
Regardless of what Waspdawn wanted, he didn't have the energy to do anything but tumble into his nest. The hope beaming from the clearing soothed his palpatations. Lightningrunner settled between Waspdawn and Mosspounce, still eager to continue her conversation with the latter. If she wanted time with her older brother, that would have to come later. As Waspdawn let Troutpool's balm do its work, his sleepy thoughts formed images of disturbed soil behind his eyes. Shifting visions of red fur slashed about, acting as a focal point through the fog of fever.
It was Waspdawn's duty to bring the truth to light.
(Waspdawn: 55, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)
(Cobaltchaser: 19, female, codekeeper, righteous, good cook, prey cleaner)
