#(start running)

[Y'know when I made that Optic color post for Screamer? Yeah. I missed one and notes on SW and TC dbrjdbdjd]

This absolutely started as a silly little bit that lead into me spending WAY too much time on it-- aaand making me think of certain lore details that'd be present in the main trine's designs [mainly tc and star tbh] at the point in time at which they would all be in the same room as Sunstorm

those contemplations would be kinda Steel Sparks spoilery tho so-

Aaaasside from a bit of sus, i think it's still pretty funny XD

Also extra Warp and Sun doodle under cut!

That, and laying his hands upon the flesh of an Imperial prison would certainly make him feel better, especially one like Tasha.

Not much noise would come from within the holding cell, though it was heavily reinforced with no way for sound to Come from the room. However the moment Fist would open the door, a size sixteen boot would finish the process. Revealing that the six foot seven Ursa wasn't restrained anymore, if the tattered straps on the bed weren't damning enough. Her muscles rippled with the rage of a mother lost, her grey hair kept in a somehow pristine yet greyed flat top. Her body covered in scars of battles won, and battles lost. Thirty seven years of combat experience on the woman, and they were all directed at Fist.

HANDLER!!!!

I might be crazy but I wonder if these 2 will be looking into the ultimate cookie, especially with wizard cookie's expression...

Like specifically what dark Enchantress is planning.

You make a move on the Chessboard, and each turn ripples, ever-cascading effects endlessly multiplying like the flap of a butterfly's wings. You moved their piece before capture, bathed it in Black, and White remembers.

You don't know how they got one of your handkerchiefs. You don't know any of the evidence carefully constructed to point to your guilt. You don't know any of it, not yet. Only the words whispered into your ear as you pass through the parlour, the place where you can both pretend you're nothing more than two gentlemen of no notable profession, that you're not on opposing ideological poles. It's time to pack a bag and run--before the tigers hear what 'you' did.

You do not run. No one will have that power over you--to turn your back to that scared, helpless thing whose heart thunders in his chest, whimpering like a child waiting out a storm. You do not run, but you also do not tarry.

You need to make a plan, a way to avoid razored claws and snapping jaws. You need a way to exonerate yourself. You need to find who's pulling these strings, to yank them out of their hands and wrap them around their necks. For now you only have one plan: stay alive.

A plant I had been hoping to see for years! This is a striped orchid, Corallorhiza striata. There are a few Corallorhiza species where we go hiking in Washington State, but this one is one of the less common to see. You're more likely to spot C. maculata or C. mertensiana, called spotted and Pacific coralroots, respectively. I found this one on the Olympic Peninsula while backpacking up the Elwha.