Gustavo MON

so things id want to figure out in a later wb session

The way the keepers are organized and how they function in this world, and if there are more than one organization and such

The way each type of creature functions and their details, maybe tying them all into a cohesive system of just taking a tone and adapting them to it

more likely ill make each species its own thing with all types of different sources

There will probably be magic, rituals, the divine, new and old gods, demons unrelated to Christianity, Lovecraftian horrors, aliens, ghosts, the undead in a crazy amount of variations, tsukumogami and other types of sentient or haunted relics,,,

One thing I like to do with my systems of power in stories, even more so when related to magic or the supernatural and myths is to use the thingy that belief is the key, it creates and keeps alive the monsters..

I yanked my sight from the haunting orb in the sky, painfully hurrying my pace to catch up with Raul and Lucas, even after a full month my shoulder was hurt enough that every step sent a shock of pain through me. "Yeah, sorry, just got distracted." Lucas exchanged a look with Raul, something I pretended not to notice again "So, you coming to my house? You didn't actually tell me in class."

Made a list of Concrete goals for 2025 besides my other list of open ended goals. Just some resolutions for new years.

It immmediately darkened, the black leaves that made no sound, more akin to feathers, blocking the low light of the setting sun. I stepped carefully, solemn, careful to not hook my foot into the crisscrossing roots, their ashen forms mostly covered by the feather-leaves of the Bone tree.

My hand firmed around the pike i was carrying, my eyes attend to any beast that might make this place their home. The blood resin of this tree was the last ingredient i needed.

Three eerie natural treasures, nature's most twisted creations bought together in a ritual to create the perfect lifeform.

The fruit of a Bone Tree, a tree in name made of bones, with black feathers for leaves and which blood resin was an alchemical marvel.

The core of a Decay predator, a beast that was ultimately fungal in nature with extreme capabilities of learning and imitation becoming the apex hunter of wherever it arises.

Even harder to do it consistently

So im making my own like philosophy of life or maxims or whatever to keep in mind what i find important and how i want to live and stuff

It a combination of what I agree/understand/internalized of existentialism absurdism stoicism and general life experience and advice.

We are burning objections to entropy, to live is to live in spite of.

Life is chaotic and unpreditable in its rebellion, dangerous to itself. In our effort to perpetuate we poison the very environment we live in.

Life did so when it filled the earth with oxygen, when it captured all the co2 and now again when we release it at unprecedented speeds.

But life pushed through and adapted, and even in the case that we, the humans, destroy ourselves, life will keep going.

Like flowing water, life finds a way.

"Power has always existed in the world, it just had never been, for lack of a better term, fair.

You didn't grow into power, or attain it with the sweat off your back, you didn't luck into it.

Because true power, power that matters isn't in one person, it's an institution, it's generational, it's an organism.

And so for the longest time the top stayed on top, but when Powers arose, entering the world of fact straight out of comic book pages. Well, that, that shook things up, alright.

Now, power was, if not meritocratic, at least random.

And all around this cruel, beaten world we exist in, there were lots of people just needing the power to evict the change they thought the world needs.

And that caused the most insane level of social unrest you can ever think, sometimes I wonder how a society even still exists... that sure was a decade to live through.

But if there's one group you'll never see me complaining about; it's The Red Guillotines.

You know those mega corporations, with those untouchable people on top, doing fucked up shit just cause they can? And you think to yourself sheesh it sure would be nice if someone just killed all those motherfuckers. Well, turns out some of the people that thought like that also lucked into getting some powers.

And I'd say there's a selection bias on all the Red Guillotine members having the most broken powers you ever heard about, cause those billionaires got the money to hire some heavy security and powered mercenaries, so yeah.

I just think it's nice that now they have to step lightly and follow the goddamn rules if they want to keep their fucking heads."

"Come on, Old Dan, stop monologuing to the younglings, You'll bore them to death."

"It's actually pretty interesting to hear, about it, I mean, and to think that you all grew up in a world where powers were just fiction... that's just so crazy."

The white sand under him was so fine it ran over his hands like warm water, scintillating in the soft light as the grains floated from a breeze gentle and warm as a mother's embrace.

Kareem walked, his pace between sinking and floating, he walked as driven by something, his mind as empty as the world around him.

The sky was of a light cyan that almost turned into white, blending the endless dunes around him into a limbo where Kareem walked a thousand lives or a couple of seconds, he walked until he felt his throat parched, until his body felt heavy, until he fell on his knees his hands holding him up from the sand, or maybe holding the sky up from him.

Time held no meaning before the endless desert. Kareem rested, he only existed, his mind if conscious might've revolted the centuries in each breath but at that moment he just was.

Then he heard a song, a chorus that reverberated in a wet staccato, and he raised his head, seeing in front of him a figure emerging from the horizon haze.

Its wings beat softly, eight pairs in a golden formation as if the sun stood behind it, its head that of a dragon with a vulture beak, the body that of a lion, the paws each the size of himself leaving no markings on the bleached ivory sands.

It stood before him, inclining its head and spoke, the sound that of rain striking metal.

Kareem, beckoned, followed, and as he walked more of the chimeric sphinx joined them on their procession, circling overhead lazily or walking with him, and as they went, they filled the white desert with their harrowing sound, a fake monsoon.

And then subtly he arrived. There was no more sound, and the silence that hang in its place was the void of a world that doesn't breathe. Kareem stood before a shallow pool of water, so still it was a perfect mirror to the sky. A circle of firmament embedded into the ground bones of a trillion souls.

And in the middle of this pool stood a god.

Kareem knew the moment his eyes fell upon the figure, as serene as the white desert and silvery water around it. It was a god, a god in deep slumber.

His world had forgotten what gods were, and Kareem now was the bridge that would reconnect this world of meaning dreams and power to the world of entropy and humans.

Kareem extended his hand, feeling something call to him, and without taking a step he was before the God, his feet touching the pool like solid glass, his fingers touching between the closed eyes of the divinity.