Fieri Frames
The Stonewall Inn
Sade Olutola
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Origami Around
No title available
$LAYYYTER
No title available
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
hello vonnie
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
todays bird
No title available
ojovivo
gracie abrams
No title available
cherry valley forever
occasionally subtle
Claire Keane
Cosmic Funnies
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Vietnam
seen from Colombia
seen from Ecuador
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from Malaysia
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Canada
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from TĂĽrkiye
seen from Spain
seen from Colombia
seen from Maldives
@thunderingtempest-blog-blog
[She releases the crystal.]
Thank you...
[The crystal pulses, electrical impulses surging through it as the stone body recreates itself, as naturally as an organic creature might form a fist. A groan, a relieved sound like stone grating against itself,as the restoration is completed.] But... There is one thing this vessel must tell you.
My name is Ankhet. Use it.
Lady Ankhet. Please, allow this vessel to restore himself.
Say it.
[There is an extended pause.]
This vessel pledges service to you, small one... Lady small one. But you must know what that means.
I am growing impatient. Pledge yourself, or I’ll keep you in pieces.
This is a mockery! The Tempest does not... Cannot...
...As the small one wishes.
Pledge yourself to me, first.
This vessel... What?!
Ha. I would.
Fine. You have won... somehow. Now let this vessel restore himself. He begins to grow... dizzy.
[Ankhet picks her way over to it, kicking aside stones and pebbles in her way. She pulls on the crystal, bringing it up in front of her.] Stop this. Now.
You... [For a moment, the core flickers more frantically, and pebbles tremble with urgency. But she's won, and they soon rest, motionless.] You would not.
[Ankhet was thrown bodily with the storm, scattered among the rubble. But such force was not enough to break her. Her body hurt, from the electricity under her skin from the physical crackdown. If she was to emerge the victor with spoils for her troubles, however, she could not rest now.
Her search carried her into the center, looking for his core.] It will not be all that hurts, if you continue this foolishness.
You... You do not think you can defeat the Tempest so easily, small one. [The gravelly voice seems to come from everywhere at once, but pebbles and stones are all being swept back towards a single, radiant amethyst crystal, which seems to shimmer and pulse with something almost resembling a heartbeat.]
Pronoun Trouble
There are, effectively, two 'Tempests' residing within the golem's shell. One is the atronach himself. This Tempest is proud, powerful, and while not necessarily intelligent, able to communicate without inevitable confrontation. While rarely coming to the surface during the golem's rampages, he tends to speak as an envoy on behalf of both of his personalities.
The other Tempest is the spark of chaos implanted by Dagon himself, a miasma of captured souls belonging to soldiers slain during his failed invasion. This Tempest is a literal force of destruction and hatred, and while both halves share the vessel in theory, once angered it is almost always this side that takes control. The only two surefire ways of ending its rampage are by means of confusion, which usually forces the thinking mind to take the reigns, or to give it a solid beating.
[There may be grand thoughts of riding the winds, dodging rocks, but there is little Ankhet can actually do in the face of such overblown fury. She cannot aim, she cannot fight, she can barely avoid her smaller form slamming into the rocks tumbling about with her.
But perhaps the wind can do her job for her. Lightning and static arc through her as she summons her iron flesh, searing her body painfully. There is just enough magicka to heat the iron molten. The winds whip it away, sending searing metal straight for the core.]
[The ethereal, shrieking laughter rises to a cacophonous crescendo as the molten metal is swept up into his core. Frightful bursts of electrical energy surge out in all directions, and Tempest's howls of delight give way to realization and terror. The storm reaches it's violent, explosive peak. A pulse of electromagnetic force radiates from the core, and then, nothing.
Until the pebbles scattered about begin to twitch where they lay.]
Tempest's head is hurting...Â
"Do what again?” An innocent blink, all wide-eyed and softness. She really shouldn’t tempt it. “I don’t understand, dear. I moved, as commanded, I bowed to the power of your tempest. I’m doing ask you ask, nothing more.”
"YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. THE NEXT TIME YOU DOÂ THAT, IT WILL BE THE LAST SOUND TO ESCAPE YOUR TINY BODY. EXCEPT, PERHAPS, YOUR SCREAMS OF AGONY AS THE TEMPEST GRINDS YOU INTO DISINTEGRATION."
"I wouldn’t dare.” It is very difficult to keep the edge of laughter from her voice, and she’s not sure it would understand that anyway. “You are a being of great destructive power, and one to be feared.” To be fair, that was true.Â
"YOU DO IT AGAIN! DO NOT TRY TO VEX IT, TINY THING. THIS VESSEL WAS NOT DESIGNED FOR PATIENCE."
"I like you already." [Nchalnd] // OH MY GOD YOUR BLOG IS PERFECT
"THIS VESSEL DID NOT ASK YOU TO LIKE IT, INSECT."
With a final lavish bow of her head she shifts aside, grandly moving her arms to gesture beside her. “Your way is free, o mighty storm. Please, don’t 'strike' me down.”
"IT SHALL... BUT YOU WILL INDULGE A QUESTION BEFORE IT DOES SO. WHY DO YOU SPEAK IN SUCH A WAY? DO YOU IMPLY THIS VESSEL WOULD DO SOMETHING OTHER THAN STRIKE?
"BESIDES ANNIHILATE, DESTROY, DEMOLISH, EVISCERATE, DEFENESTRATE..."
[Ankhet knows what she is about. She did not become one of Dagon’s generals by letting an atronach defeat her. He telegraphs his moves plain as day and, though they are impressive in scope and magnitude, now that she is prepared for them they are easier to avoid.
Fire magic is what she has at her disposal, and so fire she continues to pour into him as she darts about, avoiding his ponderous downward strikes. Sparks dart out and impact her flesh, and there is little she can do for that. Still, these stings and shocks are better than taking a whip from a creature nearly twice her size.
She aims a fireball, again more heat than flame, once more for his core.]
[He's too big and too slow to dodge the attacks. All he can do is let the flames crash against him, let the heat compound itself inside his heart. Violet light is radiating from him now, bolts of power flying indiscriminately from his body.
She's too swift for his whips, that much has been made abundantly clear, and is keeping effectively out of his reach while she pelts him with fireballs. Suddenly, the grating howl of his battle cry seems to swell into a manic fit of laughter. His body begins to separate, and stones that were pulled magnetically together fly free, becoming caught inside his steadily expanding outer whirlwind. The twister expands further and further, drawing in all that are caught within, dragging them steadily to the barely-stable electric core.]
THERE IS NO ESCAPE!
"Ooh, succumb?" A smirk slithers on to her lips and she bows lower still. "I’ll try not to let your harsh choice of words cloud my judgement.”
"YOUR JUDGEMENT IS IRRELEVANT. YOU WILL STAND ASIDE OR FACE DESTRUCTION."
askdusty:
"Ah, Dagon! I ought to have guessed." Dust grins and gives a flourish of a bow, evidently amused, before addressing - him, her, it? - in Daedric. "Then from a child of Sheogorath to a child of Dagon, greetings."
"YOUR GREETINGS ARE WASTED, PATHETIC CREATURE,"Â the atronach replies in the same language. "ONE DOES NOT GREET THE TEMPEST. ONLY SUCCUMB."
