Resident Robot-Loving Grandma

One of my favorite categories of taz headcanon is “random stuff lucretia forgot to erase”

Content like that.  I live for it.

Magnus getting naked in the middle of a meeting with the Director and receiving no reaction is my favorite not-canon-but-canon instance where Lucretia forgets that she’s not supposed to let on that she spent a lifetime sharing a home with these doofuses

The Holy Trinity

“There’s magic, in a bard’s song.”

This Leon cosplayer at #kumoricon had a real, WORKING Fantasy Gashapon and I was living for them and their entire #TAZ group. They were all so perfect <3

#cosplay #theadventurezone #tazcosplay #prompto #promptoffxv #promptocosplay #ffxv #kumoricon2017

what gets me about “kiss my ass you sanctimonious bastard” is that a lot of fanon has portrayed it as this grand moment with like, merle yelling it heroically. but to me it was a resignation. it was merle giving up on a guy he hoped he could reach. it’s a moment of “yeah well. i was hoping this could work out. i’d hoped we could be friends. but there’s nothing i can do here bc you’re choosing to be an asshole and refuse to come out of your own black hole of negativity that you built yourself here.” it’s a moment of acknowledging that this person you wanted to help is bringing you both down with their wilfully toxic behavior and though it’s a pity, you have to cut your losses and get out of that fucked-up one-sided friendship. and that’s way more poignant to me than yet another heroic yelling moment

edward and lydia when they run into tres horny boys for the 200th time:

“hello travellers that we definitely don’t know, we’re not-edward and not-lydia, would you like to be a part of our not-evil-lich cult?”

taako for the 200th time: “oh boy would i!!!!”

I’m sure this hasn’t been done yet right?

OOF! OOF! how does FIFTEEN POINTS of DAMAGE TASTE?!

I’ve been searching for this for 20 minutes.

guys the TAZ candlenights live show for 2018 was so good

You asked for Kravitz

heck

Hell darling, hell

[image description: a photo of a person from the chest up, cosplaying as Kravitz from TAZ. He has brown skin, shoulder-length black dreadlocks half pulled back, and short facial hair. The upper half of his face is painted white like a skull. He’s wearing a dark structured jacket over a black collared shirt, and he’s smiling slightly at the camera. Beneath that is a GIF of the same person, moving his head from right to left before smiling at the camera.]

I think one of my absolute favourite things about TAZ is that Griffin got to write a campaign in which the three free agents, the three moving parts that he relied on to make his story work, were the three people he knows best in the whole universe. People talk about Griffin’s story being ‘on rails’ but it’s not. It’s just that - unlike most DMs - Griffin can predict his family’s behaviour in advance in a way most people couldn’t hope to do. If he were playing with a different group, the story never would have turned out the way it did, but because he knows his family, he could fairly accurately predict the big decisions.

He writes a voidfish into the story, because he knows his brother is kind to animals, knows he’d never leave a sentient baby jellyfish on a planet about to get eaten, not even narratively. He’s not writing Travis into a corner, Travis would never consider doing anything else. He writes Taako a sister - a best friend, a twin, a soul mate - because he knows that Justin is a big brother to his very core, knows that his instincts will always fall in line with sibling loyalty and devotion, even when he’s playing an aloof elf who doesn’t care about anyone. He writes his dad into the trickiest position of them all - facing true horror, sitting across the table from the end of the world - and he knows that his father will respond with compromise and understanding, with love and joy and compassion, because he’s seen that grace in his father his whole life. Griffin was betting on those qualities that he already knew his family possessed, and it was the safest bet he ever made! Because they were amazing, and he always knew they would be.

Barry: Hey, wanna go out to dinner?

Taako: Wrong twin Barold

Barry: No I’ve got the right twin I just wanna hang out with you more

Taako, choking back tears: Cool

What if when Taako suddenly got all of his IPRE knowledge back and he just… Has a realization that he has been incredibly smart this whole time. But instead of being thrilled by this, he just says in horror, “Fuck, I’m a Nerd. Oh Shit.”

When they ask for her name, when Magnus asks for her name, Lucretia pauses, at once seemingly a thousand words on the tip of her tongue, but without the air in her lungs to speak it, air that was forced out by the question, the impact of which the three standing before her do not, cannot now, know.

Lucretia. The name that had come out in a timid squeak the first time she’d met the people who would become her family. She’d had to repeat it several times to be heard properly. Davenport had always stuck to that. She hasn’t heard it in years.

Lucy. Eagerly awarded by Magnus, one day during training. He’s always rushed in, from something as simple as befriending a shy writer to staring down the end of everything and continuing to fight anyway.

Creesh. Warm and affectionate, from Lup, the second to draw her in. Said with a laugh or a sigh, in joy or pain many, many times over the course of 100 years.

Cretia, the first syllable of her name dropped as Taako gave her a lazy smile and beckoned her forward into the kitchen, the twins’ domain. He hadn’t let her help, naturally, as Lucretia couldn’t be trusted not to burn water. But the name had been as much an opening as the invitation, allowing her the first peek into the Taako that, for decades, only Lup knew.

Luce. Barry had been fighting back a yawn after staying up far, far too late working in the lab, while Lucretia had stayed up far, far too late writing, giving form to every detail she can about the current plane. The two insomniacs had given each other wry smiles before collapsing on the couch. The nickname stuck.

Lavinia. Lysandra. Liliana. Lucinda. Letitia. Merle had been unable to remember her name at first, called her just about every “L” name he could think of save for the correct one. Eventually, it had become a joke between them, a new name spoken with a playful gleam in hazel eyes, receiving a snort of laughter in return.

Handfuls of names she’d used in writing, the names of others whose stories she’d penned, illusory pen names she’d hidden behind. Names she’d lost when their plane had been obliterated, names she’d left behind when she decided to focus on drafting her own narrative.

“The Director is fine.” The words find their way out, tasting bitter in her mouth.

It’s not. Lucretia is not fine. But she knows it is nothing in comparison to hearing her family again speak her name as that of a stranger.

Magnus “the Fish Friend” Burnsides