but what if.. ancestor big bang 😱🤭🤭 jkjk………….. unless 👀
Feferi: ad)(d will )(ave you like )(ey sorreef i'm late i )(ad to seasist t)(e temptation to be distracted by literally everyt)(ing around me 40 times like the sufferer in t)(e desert. yea)( t)(e )(andmaid was t)(ere and everyt)(ing it was t)(is w)(ole t)(ing.
i said i would draw something and then i actually did draw it. its a january miracle.. but yeah ghghg here are the end game kismesises for aberration odium! now all i need to do is draw the ancestors ships lol... don't expect that anytime soon tho ghgh.
i remember back in 2020 i wanted to do this whole zine of like model kankri and shit, should i do it
Meet Ciidii my jadeblood I made in like middle school.
Kankri: What d9 y9u think 9f the 1950's?
The Signless, in a chair with cats around him: I LIKE, I LIKE THE LITTLE JIGS
The Signless: *SHAKES HAND TRYING T9 DANCE*
Kankri: *somber nod* Thank you 9ld man
from my shows
Just a workout
Happy Belated New Year, as per ritual I must draw this fish man, just vibing on new years.
Another Secret Santa in a Art server Im in! I drew Dualscar <> Alpha!Dave <3 The Handmaid for them :)c
Просо подросток Дуалскар в одежде Кронуса
Chapter 2: A Passover Story
There are words on the wind. You hear them, spoken. Prayers. Your name.
And you are the Page of Breath, so you give them Breath. You can break their chains, and open their doors. Only you. The mortals love you. They love you. You offer them liberty. You lift the downtrodden, and help them to topple tyrants. You follow the whispers of Breath in your ears.
You feel, in a way, like you’re actually important. The feeling swells as the centuries pass, and turn into millennia.
The people who came from the east are suffering. The hot sun. The burn and bleed of the whip. They sorrow, they hunger, they ache for a better life. They are slaves, and they are calling to you, from the desert sands, voices echoing through the dust.
You make your landing by the river, and you walk through the town. A guard at the slave’s quarters sees you, and mistakes you for a child before he realizes that your horns are real. He is fearful, but you simply move past him and blow open the doors.
“Your freedom, is yours, if you want it,” you say, to the huddled mortals within.
They don’t move.
“Do you know who I am?” You reach out your hand to them, and smile. “I am the Page of Breath. Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.”
They don’t move.
“pLEASE, cOME WITH ME,” you say. You are the Page, and you can’t force them to do anything, only give them the opportunity they need to seize freedom themselves.
“We can’t, Page,” speaks up one woman, finally. “We are bound.”
“Take off your bindings,” you say. “They are nothing, like air. You can stand, with me, if you try.”
“We cannot,” says the woman. “We are bound by Blood.”
You have to let that sink in, a moment, before you realize what she’s saying. The wind whips up as you call your aspect, you reach towards the mortals- and you can feel the bonds, like heavy rope, tying them to this land, to the King who commands them, and, in thick clotted strands, to the Knight.
You could break them. It would be within your power to simply rip up Karkat’s curse like spider’s silk, but it would probably kill the mortals to do so.
You realize, that is something you could do. Charge in like an enraged hoofbeast in a dishware establishment. Smash everything. Let them die free.
You don’t do that. Instead, you leave, for a distant dunetop, where you cannot see or sense anyone but a few desert invertebrates. And you call Karkat’s name.
The Knight of Blood is standing in front of you. He’s never been one for showy appearances, not like Gamzee, or Vriska, or Kanaya, or Eridan. Instead, he usually dresses even drabber than his god-hood, wearing a simple black cloak with no sigil. As he is doing now.
He opens his mouth, but you speak first.
“What is going on, I mean, with the mortals here? They’re slaves, and it seems, to me, that you made them slaves? Why would you do something like that?”
“Tavros,” he says. “Please butt the fuck out of my business.”
You frown. “That was not an answer, to my question.”
Karkat groans and facepalms. “Look, it’s a long story. Can we go somewhere else to discuss this? Like some place not in the middle of bumfuck nowhere?”
You have to remind yourself sometimes, that not everyone likes to be in the middle of the wilderness, like you do. You find it calming.
“I think,” you say, “That this is a pretty good place.”
Karkat squints at you, then rolls his eyes and decaptchalogues a chair to sit in. You remain standing. You like to stand.
When he doesn’t offer any information, you press again. “So, those people, the slaves, why are they blood-bound?”
“Do you even know who these mortals are?” asks Karkat in reply. “Did you even do the slightest bit of cursory research on them? Or did you just trip over them and decide it was your business to fuck around with them?”
“It is my business,” you reply, “Because they prayed to me, and because my aspect could free them, but would probably kill them, because it's mixed with yours.”
Karkat’s eyes narrow. “So is that what you’re going to do? Kill off these people because your aspect lets you?”
You shake your head. “No, I don’t want to kill them. I want to know, why they are slaves, and then for you to free them.”
Karkat shakes his head. “I’m not going to.”
“Listen, Nitram, I’m not going to go over this twice, so just shut the fuck up and listen. These people here, the Kireshians, are the descendants and followers of this leader and warlord from a few generations back, named Kiresh. And he made a pact with the King here, the one who ruled the adjacent lands at the time, that he wouldn’t attack their lands so long as the King let his people have safe passage. And of course because they’re mortals and they’re fucking idiots and have no sense of proportion, they made it a BLOOD PACT.
“So they clearly didn’t trust each other, which made sense, since after a few years Kiresh went and started raiding the Kingdom's outlying settlements. Maybe he thought the King wouldn’t notice? Maybe he thought I wouldn’t notice? Fucking braindead.” Karkat snorts derisively. “The stipulation of the BLOOD PACT was that he and all of his people, and all their descendants and descendant’s descendants, had to serve the Kingdom, and all his descendants and bluh bluh blah. That’s it. Fucking dirty politicians getting divinity involved in their contracts. It’s bullshit but there you go. End of storytime.”
You blink. “Wait, so, these people are being punished because of something their ancestors did? How long ago, was that?”
Karkat pauses, tapping a claw against his chin. “I’m not sure. Not that long. A few centuries, I think.”
“But, I mean, I don’t think their species lives that long?”
Karkat nods. “Yeah, their generation time is short. So what?”
“So uh, these people don’t have anything to do with Kiresh, or the old King, or whoever it was. They’re different people.”
“They’re Kireshians. They’re not just linked by their bloodlines, either. That's a big part of why they're slaves, but that's not all of it. They're sworn to him. They still label themselves with Kiresh's name. They see him as their leader, their chief, their ancestor. So, the BLOOD PACT applies to them. If they gave all that up, all their culture of ancestor worship, and turned their backs on the history of their own people, the ties would be weak enough to break on their own. They wouldn't even need you to do it.”
“You mean, it's not even a physical blood thing? And, you’re not going to free them, because of this silly rule, about your pacts?”
Karkat frowns and leans forward. “It’s not a silly rule, it’s my fucking aspect!”
“Can’t you just let them go, this time? They didn’t do anything, and it wouldn’t hurt to make an exception, and be a little more, flexible.“
“That would be numbfuck stupid. No, I can’t make exceptions for every mortal that makes baby woofbeast eyes at me. On principle. If nothing else, it will be a warning for other mortals to not take BLOOD PACTS lightly. It’s not a thing you’re supposed to do on a fucking whim!”
You’re feeling irritated, now. “You’re doing this, on principle? But, it’s just a rule!”
"And it's a rule I need to keep in place."
“Goddamn it, Tavros,” he snaps. “Go on your way, and butt the fuck out of this.”
The Kireshians are sworn to serve the people of the Kingdom. Breaking that promise to Karkat would likely backlash, and kill all of them. But Karkat is too set in his ways, like he’s bound up in them, chained to his own invisible rules! He can’t seem to think around the problem. You are kind of pissed off at him, but more than that, you want to free him from his rigid way of thinking.
So you go, and talk with the Kireshians. You learn that they worship their ancestor, not like he's a god, but like he's watching over them, guiding them. They tell stories about him, and talk about him a lot, when babies are born and when people die. He's their identity, the remnant of a proud past, the only point of pride they have left.
If they give up their culture, they could escape. Drop all ties with Kiresh, and they would no longer be bound. But you don't think, they'll do this. So that leaves convincing Karkat. You'll need to be creative, and sneaky, and you’re not so good at that.
But you know who is.
She owes you a favor anyway.
"You don't need to convince Karkat," she says, grinning. "He cares about his pact-holders, right? They're all family to him, right?"
Then she tells you, what she is going to do. And, you talk her down, to some less extreme methods, and she agrees, that she will only use them, as a backup.
So you go to the slaves, the once-proud people, the Kireshians, and tell them to inscribe your sigil on their doors, so she’ll know where to not strike.
You float gently on the breeze, high above the city. They are building great monuments, aqueducts, temples, sculpture. The sun is shining, on the red stone.
“Free the Kireshians, please," you say to Karkat, using his name. "Bad things are going to happen, if you don't." But he doesn't come.
So now you’re flying, and you watch, as Vriska Serket flies below you. She turns to look up at you, and gives you a wink.
And then, the sky goes black with soot.
And then, the hail comes, and the lightning.
And then, the crop blights, and the lesions, and the toxic algae that turns the water red.
And then, every male child falls into a coma.
And you go to check, but the slaves are still not free.
“Karkat Vantas," you say. "You need to free the Kireshians. Your pact-holders are dying." You know that he can hear you, but he doesn't answer. Is he calling your bluff? Does he think that you wouldn't kill people who are bound by blood?
He's right. You wouldn't.
Vriska is shimmering and gleaming, radiant like a star in the sky with all the light she is taking. She grins at you, and waves. “Plan 8!” she laughs.
The earth tremors, and cracks, and the King, and all his people, and all his lineage, are swallowed by darkness.
The slaves, bound to a bloodline now erased, are free.
The Kireshians are free. And you are horrified.
“Don’t be so sensitive,” says Vriska, tossing her hair over a shoulder. “I freed the slaves like you asked, didn’t I?”
You gesture angrily. “Yes, but you killed another group of people, who had nothing to do with it!”
“I told you that was plan B.” Vriska sounds utterly unconcerned.
“I think it should have been, maybe, plan Z.”
“Oh, please, Tavros, like continually tormenting them with plagues is better. I guess Karkat doesn't even care about his stupid oath,” Vriska sneers. “Anyway, bonds removed, slaves free, you’re welcome.”
“Vriska, this is not what I wanted!”
“What you wanted?” Vriska smiles sweetly. "What did you want me to do, keep killing babies until the King died of old age? Booooooooring. Tavros, you know how I do things. You wanted me to do it! You should try to get your pan sorted out before you - Aw, fuck, Karkat’s here.”
Yes, he is. He’s there, dressed in his deep red god-hood, red wings flashing for a moment before he tucks them out of sight.
“Tavros, what the shitmaggot fuck did you do???”
“See you later, Tavros!” Vriska says cheerfully, and kisses you on the top of your left horn, before flying off.
"Mortals can't just.... make BLOOD PACTS without thinking about the consequences!!"
"I don't see why, these rules are so important!"
"So you think every time a mortal breaks a promise, we should just swoop in and forgive them?" Karkat pitches his voice mockingly. "Oh, don't mind the fact that you literally swore on your freedom or your life that you'd do this thing, we don't mind! Mortals lie all the time anyway, so there's no reason to have an ironclad way of making them swear the truth!"
You cross your arms. "Not when people, who weren't even involved, are sworn in too!"
"They were still loyal to him. Fuck, Tavros, I thought you were going to try and break them of their cultural hang-ups, not fucking destroy the city!"
You frown at him. "That would have taken, a lot of time. Why didn't you, do that?"
"Oh wow shit, I don't know, maybe I had other, better things to do?? You're the one who cared so much about this, not me! I mean fuck, you're a god, it's not like you don't have time!"
"Well, you should have cared, since it's your rule that got them enslaved!"
"I stand by what I did. Mortals have to keep their responsibilities straight when they mess around with the divine. I'm not going to spend my time finding them loopholes to exploit. Besides, it was their choice to keep their traditions. Isn't that what you like? Choice?"
"It's not, that simple. They were praying to me for help!"
"Oh boo hoo. And how many people are praying to you right now? Tavros, that is a shitty-ass way to be a god. You have to pick your battles."
He's almost looking like he pities you now. You don't want pity from Karkat.
He snorts. "I know better than to try and make you swear an oath. But don't mess around with my shit again, Tavros. This is a warning."
"What about, uh, Vriska?"
"I don't fucking care. She's your problem."
You're kind of relieved, that Karkat didn't want to fight you. You'd hate to destroy another planet in your wake.
So instead, you close your eyes, and listen to the words in the universe's Breath, flowing through your mind, like distant music. The Kireshians no longer pray to you, but there are others. There are always others. You spread your wings.