Thanks, I’ll definitely miss a lot of people!!

But uhhh, trying to keep it real short:

Once I unlocked Hypergiant I planned on justifying a human FC with one of Ivan’s abilities (Absolute Authority lets him bullshit a lot of things like an entire infinite army as long as his main body is asleep. The whole idea is reality-dream warping) Beastkin was a nice half-way between human and Yaga and it’d make sense ic-ly if he used a body template he already had for a form for ‘social occasions’.

At the same time, feeling avoided when writing him, being declined rps bc not even popular monster.jpg and being worn down and like my writing turned stale rping for a year around a monster without face or gestures made me feel anxiety-ridden despite how much i love writing his personality, background, relationships.

I messaged the group whether instead of waiting until hyper-giant, I can have a special challenge to earn that fc.

I got declined because they saw no need and because it’d be unfair and because thats what fantasia is for, etc etc. Instead of just declining my ask for a sooner fc, they forbid me using a fc wholly whether i can justify it some way or not. 

It wasn’t anything big, no ability, it was all about a fc i’d sometimes use. Since the reasoning is dismissive of my issues and anxiety when it was all for having an easier time rping, I got no reason to stick around. Trying so hard just to have fun and the group itself working against it is ridiculous to me. I also doubt people would find it that unfair if they had this context. 

OOC. Since I freshly dropped from the group, nothing stops me from saying why. 

This and a 1500 word essay later of how much anxiety and trouble I’ve had roleplaying this muse for a year, the group prioritizes lore over the comfort and ease of rping. I can’t work with this persistence that I’ve got no issue bc they’ve noticed no issues with other monster rpers which makes me invalid, that it’d be unfair to them and these rpers’d feel it’s unfair (??) or that you can’t compromise on a corner of unused group lore and instead offer it as solution for general persisting issues even when aware I’d drop otherwise because I feel avoided, I feel people like my muse but are afraid of rping with him, I feel my writing sucks bc of how little I can work without a face or gestures, etc etc.

Sorry to those I threaded with, to everyone who looked forward writing with me and thanks to everyone who gave me a good time and opportunity to write here. I really can’t rp where I’m told to suck it up and that making exceptions is a hard no-go whether you’re suffering anxiety or not. Short or in 1000 polite words, it’s still just “sorry deal with it.”

Of all the things to find in a dream, it had to be a mural of that king. Goetia would find it offensive - should find it offensive - with the way the mural portrays him like some benevolent lord, welcoming and kind. Foolish king. Idiot king. That anyone should use him as a template for rule is insane in itself. What a nonsensical thing history is, to regard that man in such a way.

Yet, Goetia simply stares, befuddled by the sheer magnitude of the mural and the fact that it’s here, in someone else’s dream. He spins his thoughts and waits, solemn and quiet, like a ghost transposed. Not even the approaching footsteps, nor the shadow on the wall, is enough to draw his gaze away.

“That it’s Solomon as the main piece here is beyond ridiculous. Have you no better rulers to use? Or are the painters too simpleminded to think otherwise?” A dream’s a dream, but he’s still going to insult them for it.

@tzarov

IT’S A MEMORY HIS WAKING SELF WOULD NEVER RECALL. That a demon stumbled into his dreams wouldn’t be as farfetched to the Tzar as reaching the earliest records of his life, when he was still of the old kind. 

---It was a day in winter. A young prince, watched over by the judging eyes of frescos and statues wanders the corridors of the palace. Under his arm, he carried the books he was to return to their place. Later, there would be more lectures and classes. More to learn to prepare him for a dead end future. 

His steps come to a slow before the elaborate wall-painting on the southern wall. It depicts Solomon at the center, surrounded by a council of wise men to advise him. The stranger spitting blasphemy beneath it looks like a taint on it from afar. With a sigh, he considers the correct way to approach the golden-locked stranger, then steps up to him.

In truth, she did not quite understand what the Rider meant when he spoke of ‘absolute authority’. Though his dissatisfaction in having it compared to magecraft did give her a solid idea of it’s source. Perhaps like herself, he too had roots in the divine. In which case, she truly did feel bad about her error… 

“If that is what it is, then of course I welcome the correction. My apologies, for presuming of a more terrestrial source.”

As Ivan ‘rewrote’ his words upon the parchment, and cited his desire to consider her suggestions, Raikou’s arm reached out to grasp at the quill and inkwell which sat beside her. Then— without missing a beat— she began to pen an addendum at the very end. A fusion of the two Servant’s preferences, with a little splash of modern sensibility thrown in.

“Surely we can both have our way. Don’t you think?” She chirped, as her hand danced across the page.

“What would you think about closing it all out with something like ‘Please, by the grace of god, abide this order. Hope to hear from you soon! XOXO’? That sounds quite alright, does it not?”

It didn’t. But it also seemed unlikely that Raikou was fully capable of picking up on the severe dissonance caused by her choice of words. Let alone the social faux pas involved. 

HE COULD HEAR SOMETHING LIKE THE DESPERATE SCREECH of brakes being hit when she brought up this suggestion. It was almost too real, abstract nonsense echoing inside his head. “NO-” His denial didn’t wait a moment’s notice. This was such atrocious form, it succeeded in unearthing memories of over 450 years back.

The most elegant paper was picked to address him, decorated with patterns in gold- but the envelope was sealed wrong! And of all things the content! The content! Atrociously written brief sentences, in the tone of addressing a baron, not an emperor, leaving out all of his titles, nevermind the formatting--- This was it. The worst ending form he’s read since the ‘Virgin Queen’s’ letters.

He supported his head with the tips of his fingers. “PLEASE REMOVE ‘PLEASE BY THE GRACE OF GOD ABIDE THIS ORDER’. ERASE ‘XOXO’.” Which left them with a rather pleasant ‘Hope to hear from you soon!’ 

“ Nice to meet you, Lady Drake,” replied the princess automatically. “ I don’t need anything now but I’ll be sure to call if I do!”  Drake watched the princess’s face falter slightly when Ivan shifted.  What a strange little mirror. For dismissing the girl so easily, the tzar played the role of this king perfectly. It was nothing new to the princess, but to experience it again, even for a moment, resonated like the ringing of a glass.  Maybe she was reliving it after all. A smile returned to the girl’s face. That’s right. This was a happy dream. The libertine started to remember. “–I have very importance business to attend to!”  

“I heard you had a story or song prepared for the prince. Since ,your father is here, you can also show him… ”  Elizabeth appeared surprised, but took up the challenge in a typical fashion– putting on a facade. “ O-okay!”  With the princess leading the way past him, Drake threw a glance back at the icy tyrant. She didn’t need an expression of his to return with one of  ‘ please, just a little longer’. 

HE EXPELLED A SIGH WITH A COLD THE DREAM WOULDN’T FEEL. Drake would hear a lot about this later. Projecting her father on him was one tasteless matter, projecting her daddy issues on him a completely different insulting tier of weird. For now he left it at an incredibly ominous ‘you’ll pay for this’ when the princess walked ahead. 

“Quiet,” Drake retorted.  At least hogs were smart!   She wondered the same thing. Their tour had been, so far, met with little resistance.  No one had run crying or raised alarm at the sight of the tzar, nor questioned a pirate in a royal home, of which the former was more telling.  She straightened herself as the princess approached. What kind of moment would this be? Would her younger self be impressed with her now?  As the princess neared,  she slowed. Her expression was clearly confused, seeing the two there.  Eyes of youth peered up to the Thunder Emperor, then the pirate. The struggle for recognition was there, but then her attention went back to the yaga king.  “ I didn’t know you were coming today, dad.” Suddenly, she remembered her manners and gave a small curtsy. Drake stiffened up. She was completely ignored here.

“A-aah….”  No one bothered them because people thought  the monster here was her father??   Worse. That questioning glance  from Elizabeth was the same she gave any new step-mother.  “Who’s this?”

WAS SHE TRYING TO OUTDO HIM IN HOW FAR HE strayed from common sense as existence? Now surrounded by two wild Drakes that didn’t make sense, he had to be the bigger man... even when the insult stung. Her father was a man without dignity, the worst kind of tyrant.* 

“NEITHER DID I. IT WAS A COINCIDENCE. ANYWAYS, ELIZABETH. HERE IS YOUR NEW NANNY.” He played along, solely to pass on the responsibility and dump Drake lily on the older one. “HER NAME IS DRAKE.” Then the sovereign turned his head towards her... but an empty void couldn’t convey a ‘can i leave now’ expression. 

“I thought I did, too.”  The pirate replied, voice strange with a wonder.  She could place happy periods of her youth as points on a map, but lacked them all here. The palace never showed its age, however,so trying to figure out what point this was felt more foreign than her companion’s frosty dreams. “…?”

 Her answer would appear at the end of the hall. Drake slowed to a stop as another voice made it to them. ”Where’s Edward?” A girl asked one of the maidens that met her, not even ten years old. Her pink hair was a tangled mess of accessories, and she wore a dress with puffy sleeves, her favorite. “ He’s on the far end now, Princess Elizabeth but your brother needs his rest so you–”  “– Okay, thank you!”  Elizabeth!   The maiden chided the princess about her haste and appearance, keeping her there to fix her hair.  Drake placed a hand on her cheek, sighing.  The princess had no hope for escape. “So starts the want for freedom…”

“SO YOU WERE BORN A HOG IN A DRESS?“ With the little care for instructions or authority, what else could he call her? Drake fundamentally didn’t obey logic! Just like 30-40 wild hogs. “HM.” He cleared his throat from the amusement, or tried. In a way he was glad to see the smaller her. Mostly because he preferred her childhood being exposed over his own. It would be a sorry, pathetic thing to share.

@tzarov

“ Down that way was Mary’s room,” Drake pointed gingerly to and fro, recalling memories as if she inspected every coin with a doubt.  “ And that way, I don’t think I ever really ventured to go. Sometimes Herny’s wife stayed there… “ Step-mother, but she ignored the word. 

The dream was quiet save for the two of them. The Royal Palace of Hatfield was where Drake, no, Elizabeth had spent her childhood. A rare opportunity to give Ivan a tour. The ceilings even were accommodating to his size here. Intensive english woodwork lined the walls over painted walls. Some portraits hung of family members and past kings. Definitely overcompensating for a place to dump children. Drake chuckled as her heels echoed. ” This is much different than the dream we met in.”

THE AIR TASTED DIFFERENT HERE, but he had no doubt anymore this was the world of dreams with her here. Only here something this impossible could be made to experience. He’d already forgotten who these names belonged to, merely recalling having them dictated to a writer for letters long ago. Compared to her, he was quiet- even if his footsteps were anything but.

“Almost 3000 dust,” returned a defeated groan, by both the pun and her purse. That wasn’t the problem. She did not mind to lose, provided there was any return.  Drake lifted herself up, only to slouch as she grabbed her drink..

 The next round of betting started but when it got to her turn, she could only wave her hand to pass her.” No,no. I’m sitting this one out…” Drake rubbed her eye. A sniffle. Something was very wrong.   

“ONLY 3000? I SUPPOSE A HUMBLE SUM LIKE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH FOR NOW. GAMBLING WAS PROHIBITED IN MY COURT BECAUSE THE CHURCH WAS STUBBORN ABOUT THAT ... BUT IN SECRET, WE DID ANYWAY.” That was an empty secret kept between two friends, all the while known to anyone who ever opened a history book. But that much could be said about most of his behavior as king overlapping with his panhuman-self’s.

The sky was turning red and breaking like a glass-stained window. The anchor of the world behind him reached from the ground towards it.  Before him, a boy and a girl stood at the verge of tears.

Finally, a dream ends. Finally, a dream comes true. A bloodsoaked dream that had been unattainable as long as he breathed. 

But he didn’t breathe anymore. Sundered from this life and looking at a future for the first time in 450 years: that was salvation. He couldn’t see anymore. He couldn’t speak anymore. The weight of the world was someone else’s now. He couldn’t feel it anymore. It’s not colder than usual.