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A curl of the bicep brings tightens a knot, in an island somewhere over the distant horizon. Baratii's forearm, bristled by sun-kissed strands of hair and made glossy by the thin veneer of sweat Sirea cannot protect him from spilling, wipes over his forehead, reflecting the sun right back at whatever obnoxious deity deigned its rays ought to be focused on him. His eyes swivel and with a loose-lipped yawp and hand beside his mouth, he musters down to the deck of a wide canoe from his place atop a boulder by the shore with gusto: here, he's drawn a broad knot around the stone from algae-sewn rope. "Pull her taut and let her sing, so they'll hear her at home!" Men and women alike, decorating the hollow of their almond-shaped canoe -- the rope tethered to the boulder tied to it as well, -- sink their oars and sing seafaring hymns; enigmatic melodies that clash with the sea-shanties of foreign Kingdoms' military vessels. This, sounds like a siren's song; and already makes the minds of distantly-landlocked children blossom with superstition. They drift from land until the rope at the south end of the boat is taught. The northern rope has long-been taut, suspended for miles and miles just a foot above the water. A woman plucks at it at odd rhythms. The rope quivers back. When she turns, her jewelry acts as the score to her voice, brightly grinning and thankful: "It's tied down to the Sealyre, Sirea's accepted her!" Baratii smiles, and sinks tooth into a handheld orange slice, citrus dribbling down his jaw. Illvira learned something today. Ithwen might thank him. He can smell the fish-roast, already. He'll aggrandize the journey to her this time, sprinkle in some lie about a pirates. She won't believe him, and that's fine.

for the reasons too horrible to explain publically bro you literally posted it

never bring this up again bro

awesome one piece reference guys

accidentally replied to this with an account i dont use looks dope- was wondering, would this mean the recipe to produce the worm is a T1 recipe, given an Afflicted starts at T1 Alchemy?

Through the monastery's mosaics and sagesmoke, a spear of lightning pierces the sky and crashes into mud, and unto clay. The cracks on the glass align every random bent and snap of it into a rigid, albeit loose, three-jointed rod that gestures with patience, despite how swiftly it came and went. It was, incomprehinsibly: an angel's brilliant finger. Bare feet through the forests. The bugs, twigs and crunchy autumn leaves bite her. Their insistence on her flesh being worldly and that so it will always be ... it was too cruel. She arrived at that black-marred crater, and shed her skin. Finger by finger chopped and regrown, she lays the foundations. In his name, she thought. In hers, she knew. She emerged from herself and left the sinew of what was left there. It all crawled back together, reawakened her by a shore. She fed the sea tears.

when rthe when

following that logic, would that mean they're locked into Corcitura and can't become Silit further down the line, given it "cures" the corc condition by swapping bloodlines? edit: nvm i read the miscellaneous section lmao

@ApplePieKathy The Feminist Leaflet: An Encore and Reprise Writ by a Man On our August Year MDCCCXL, a pamphlet aired the quiet grievances I have been the private listener and recipient of for what years I’ve had on Almaris. Be they from the finely-dressed women of the Courts, the wheat-pulling single mothers that make their bread or even, as lucky as I am to have her as such, my wife at times where I have been inconsiderate and unwise; all of their struggles I heard and see them reflected in the zeal of your writing, Faizh Adara. I would like to share my thoughts on it all with you and our Imperic community at large. Though I am aware we will not make a dent in the bigotted, antiquated armor of our Empire’s culture; may we at least find comfort together in the sharing of ideas. During the early years of my life, I saw my sisters and friends of the fairer sex cast to be among the butterflies of the fashionable world; and of this class of women, I am constrained to say, both from experience and observation, that their education is miserably deficient; that they are taught to regard marriage as the one thing needful, the only avenue to distinction; hence to attract the notice and win the attentions of men, by their external charms, is the chief business of women’s majority in the Empire: fashionable girls. They seldom think that men will be allured by intellectual acquirements, because they find that, where any mental superiority exists, a woman is generally shunned and regarded as stepping out of her “appropriate sphere,” which, through the Orenian lens, is to dress, to dance, to set out to the best possible advantage her person, to read the dramatic novels which inundate academia and which do more to destroy her character as a rational creature more than anything else. Fashionable women regard themselves, and are regarded by men, as pretty toys or as mere instruments of pleasure; and the vacuity of mind, the heartlessness, the frivolity, which is the necessary result of this false and debasing estimate of women, can only be fully understood by those who have mingled in the folly and wickedness of fashionable life; courtly life, in particular. There is another and much more numerous class in this country who are withdrawn by education or circumstances from the circle of fashionable amusements, but who are brought up with the dangerous and absurd idea, that marriage is a kind of preferment; and that to be able to keep their husband’s house, and render his situation comfortable, is the end of her being. Much that she does and says and thinks is done in reference to this; and to be married is too often held up to the view of girls as the sine qua non of human happiness and existence. For this purpose more than any other, I strongly believe the majority of girls are trained, and that you can easily demonstrate through the imperfect education they are given, and the very, very little pains taken to cultivate their minds after they leave basic education ... by the little time given to girls for reading, to cultivate talents beyond servitude and the maintenance of beauty, and by the idea being constantly inculcated, that although all household concerns should be attended to with scrupulous punctuality at particular seasons, the improvement of their intellectual capacities is only a secondary consideration, and may serve as an occupation to fill up the odds and ends of time. In most families, it is considered a matter of far more gravity to call a girl off from making a pie, a pudding, a loaf of bread, than to interrupt her whilst she is engaged in her studies. This mode of training necessarily exalts the animal above the intellectual and spiritual nature, and teaches women to regard themselves as a kind of machinery; necessary to keep the domestic engine oiled and functioning, but of little value as the intelligent companions of men. Only a taste of the myriad of troubles womankind faces, of course… And so, with this considered; the orchestrated enslavement and stupefication of Women, where Man will not consider them as a people of always equal, let alone occasionally greater status, can any descendant woman look at these scenes of shocking licentiousness and quiet cruelty, fold her hands in apathy and say: “I have nothing to do with this?” She cannot and at the same time be guiltless. He cannot and at the same time be guiltless. May we someday begin behaving appropriately. P.S. I invite you and anyone else interested in the topic to find my postbox and leave a letter. My mailbox address is 803 Jerryfink P.O. 920-121. I am eager to speak with you, if you are even a fraction as passionate as I am on the matter.

Character Name: Ludovici Allegri IGN: sluggobuggo Discord: slug#0001 Timezone: EST Teacher or student?: Teacher Subject(s): Harp playing and composition, traditional paired dancing and artistic marketing.

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