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also if you've actually clicked under the readmore. surprise! here are the backgrounds / a gif. from newest to oldest
(had to divide this in two so i could put Yora in the middle and make it seem like a reflection)
(THE TREES TOOK ME SO FUCKING LONG DUDE THERE WERE LIKE 5 LAYERS OF THEM. for some reason this gif looks better in discord than it does on my computer's file player??)
(heho totally normal vending machine go brr. bit of a shame you only ever see the first half of the background F)
(house baybeyy. for some reason i vividly and explicitly remember watching a video shitting on a children's book written and drawn by ai as i was doing the windows around the door)
(fun fact the lil animation tidbits of yora showering were part of the background itself. in the animation this background is actually 4 pngs that rapidly change. same with the scrolling down shot actually. but for that i had to do some mindfuckery tricks to slowly move each png down at a steady pace. for some reason i just remembered that as i was doing that i was watching a video documentary about the development of this old japanese game called swamp or smth?? what)
(the room!! i did the blanket on a sepparate layer so it's not here. literally whenever i had to pause animating itself to go do a background to add in the shot my work on this project would grind to a halt bc i did NOT like doing backgrounds and kinda dreaded them)
also another fun fact. i began working on this animation before kenikari's demo was even out, on january. i wanted to post the full two days before i released the demo, to build up hype. oh, young me. foolish young me. you idiot. you baby dumbass. you bufoon
Il y a une dizaine de jours, je suis parti retrouver Christine à Narbonne.
Le Musée Narbo Via, dédié à la Narbo romaine (cette ville fut la première ville romaine hors d'Italie et un des 3 plus grands ports de l'Empire romain)
Lare en bronze - Narbonne, Ier-IIème s. ap. J-C.
Vénus pudique en bronze - Cuxac-d'Aude, Ier-IIIème s. ap. J-C.
Mercure en bronze - Narbonne, Ier-IIIème s. ap. J-C.
amulettes phalliques en bronze (des bites volantes, quoi) - Haut-Empire
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Summary: The last one alive, the only survivor of the wretched killing game- but, he wishes he was dead with the rest of them.
Warnings: major character death, body horror, mourning, machine gore (sort of???), check tags for further warnings.
Authors Note: @sobredunia THIRD KENIKARI FIC, FEATURING, UNFILTERED DETAH ANGST BECAUSE THAT'S HOW WE ROLL! *clears throat* I've been thinking about how much fucking guilt and trauma the survivor is gonna be left with, this is like, really short though compared to how much I usually write. Anyways, this fic is brought to you by waking up and Dunia showing me some quality Detah art and then I sort of, wrote this, and its completely unrelated to the art at that. If you read it please consider leaving a reblog as they really help with my motivation!
"No!"
His voice was raw as he screamed, desperately reaching for Lares hand but missing. She fell back first into the vat of acid, her clothing sizzled just as fast as her skin melted. He couldn't bring himself to look away as her form distorted, her cries came out garbled and broken, syllables slurred into each other. Only when she was entirely melted did he look away, slumping backwards onto solid ground.
"Congratulations!" The Mastermind cheered, a green screen lowering down from the roof. A tangle of wires and mechanical tentacles helped lower down her disembodied screen. The smugness she wore and the confetti on her screen meant nothing to Detah who couldn't bring himself to look up from the ground.
Detah choked back sobs.
"You're the last one alive, you should be cheering! You should be happy!" The Mastermind exclaimed, the screen lowered to pivot itself to be at Detahs side.
"I'm the last one," He barely managed to get it out, he shrunk against the red fabric a little bit more. Razor sharp teeth ground together as he stifled back tears threatening to spill.
The sound of metal doors opening rung out, moonlight filtered in, "And there's your way out; but don't worry!" She laughed maliciously as she spoke, "I'll make sure to get their graveyards location to you for later!"
Detah stood up, brushed himself off, and punched a hole directly through the green screen. He pulled back his hand and shook off the small shards of glass clinging to his skin, a couple punctures were made. Then he did it again, cords came out this time and what remained of the picture was crackling and blacking out.
"Fuck you," He spat the words with enough venom to counter the Geographic Cone Snail, if The Mastermind could still hear him he hoped she was cowering in his boots. He tossed the handful of torn and frayed copper wires into the vat of acid, "Just, fuck you, I would tell ya to suck my dick but you're too scummy for that honor."
He would've kept disemboweling the machine but the bitterness in his throat and the shake that threatened to render him motionless came out on top. He did tear the screen from it's mechanical tentacles and stomp it, spiked boots tearing through glass and machinery like a hot knife through butter. He gave it a reluctant shove into the acid, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
How is he supposed to live?
He was friends with them, and then he watched them die- he helped them die.
And now he just, has to go on?
Yeah, he'll manage, he'll live with or without them, he still has a sister to take care of at home. He can get a job, he could be a crime detective, he knows what bodies look like under all sorts of death scenarios. He would be great at it! He'll just do that until his sister can sustain herself on her own and then he'll figure something else out.
That doesn't stop his steps from staggering as he steps ever closer to the door. It doesn't stop his mind from going blurry as he edges ever closer to those metal slabs. It doesn't stop the tears from finally spilling over as he breaches the the gate, basked in moonlight and a chilling breeze.
He can't do this.
He turns to step back but the entrance is gone.
He's stuck out here now.
Detah took a heavy breath as he stared at the tombstones all laid out in front of him, he clutched the bouquet in hand a little bit tighter.
He laid one of each at every grave, he never found out their favorite flowers so he went on instinct. But his gut feeling about them has faded over time, it's been so long since he was given a chance to properly mourn and look over what they were like. It's been so long since he's last seen them, years at this point, it hasn't treated him well.
He places a sprig of blueberries on Blues tombstone, he can't quite recall much more than her name.
He drops a mangled strand of lavender on Murasakis, he remembers that he was an asshole.
He puts a white lily on Chuyos tombstone, white petals, a chilly feeling, he always wore snow gear.
He puts a small bundle of wildflowers on Makos, chaotic like what he remembers of her.
He places a blossom of a chestnut tree on Alexs, he knows that the Brit was regal.
He places bee bomb on Bees, she was too quiet for him to garner what else about her asides from names.
He places hyacynths on Uzomis, they stand out from the rest just like she did.
Lastly, he places a jar of moths on Lares, it isn't a flower, but he owes all of his moth knowledge to her.
He takes a seat by her tombstone and gives a heavy sigh, "I miss you guys."
He pops the cap off the jar of moths and urges them to crawl from their confines, they latch onto the rock making up the tombstone. A couple fly off, a purplish hue casts across the sky and reflects to the ground below.
"I could've saved you, one of you! But I didn't," He gives another deep breath and slow exhale, "I'm sorry."
He doesn't know why it still stings when he's greeted with silence despite the fact he knows he'll never hear them again.
I have always believed that there are spirits of the land, of my home, and I have made occasional offerings to them. But I didn’t really know much about the subject at hand - I couldn’t seem to find any books that mention land spirits, or if they did, how to honor them in a daily or seasonally fashion.
And then, not too long ago, in a book I’ve had for about a decade, I found an entry for Lare while looking up something else. It was the Encyclopedia of Wicca and Witchcraft by Raven Grimassi (a really old version).
Once I had that description and name, I did what I always do: I turned to Google. And from that, I developed my own idea of what the Lare are to me, and how I work with them in my practice.
Lare
The Lare (lar-ray) are ancestral spirits that protect and preserve family lines and family knowledge. They are the bridge to the past, connecting the present to all that has come before.
Originally spirits of the fields, and after the rise of agricultural knowledge they became associated with plots of farmland. In this aspect, they guarded specific places and were honored with small towers that served as altars. Lare were associated with planting and were also linked to the seasons and to time itself.
Janus was associated with the Lare as spirits of the heart. Janus was the Roman god of doorways and the threshold, and served to protect the home. The Penates (pen-AH-tays) spirits that protected the food supply, and were also associated with the Lare. So too were the Mane and the Lemures (lay-mur-rays. It was generally thought that the Lare brought offerings of spelt grain or cakes to the Mane (spirits of the dead) or the Lemure (veangeful spirits of the dead who were neglected, and thus caused bad luck and ill events).
A shrine is generally set up in the home, typically occupying the west quarter, or on the hearth mantle, or wherever you have a household shrine erected. The Lare were honored with special offerings and a lit flame (usually an oil lamp) whenever important events occurred in the family: birth, marriage, death.
When I picture the Lare, I visualize a serpent, something along the lines of a garden snake.
My Practice
Personally, I honor the Lare as part of my household worship, along with Hestia, and my ancestors. I consider the Lare to be the guardians of my household, a sort of link or messenger to my ancestors, the spirits of my small courtyard guardian, and an entity that I should honor regularly through ritual, but also on a daily level. For me, the ancestors, Lare and Hestia work and exist so closely together that when I honor one, I generally consider all to be honored.
Ritual: I honor the Lare and give formal offerings (grain, corn meal, or baked goods) to them during the Dark Moon in a Deipnon Ritual.
Daily: I’m a believer that a practice is as good as the effort you put into it. I struggle with maintaining a daily practice (mostly because my sleep schedule gets so screwed up that it makes it difficult to create a solid daily practice), but I put forth my best effort. I usually honor the Lare with an act of service, or a simple prayer.
Devotional Acts:
Household maintenance, like fixing leaky sinks, replacing dead light bulbs, cleaning the track of the patio of the patio doors, etc.
Gardening, landscaping, yard maintenance
Calling (or texting) a family member every week
Keeping an updated and detailed family tree
Passing on knowledge of the family to the family
Participating in family traditions (think stuff like Sunday dinners, Thanksgiving meals, birthday cakes, etc).
Prayer: I like to stick to historically accurate prayers, if at all possible, but have not been able to find anything along the lines of “traditional” prayers for the Lare. So, I make it extremely simple.
Hail Honorable Lare, Guardian of the Home, Spirit of the Field. Accept these [offerings], made in your honor. Continue to bless this home with your gifts of bounty, peace and good luck.
Hail Honorable Lare, Guardians of the Home, Spirit of the Field. I call upon you this day to announce [major family occurrence, such as birth, marriage, death], and ask that you bless and guide [person(s)] along their path.
