Two and a half new witches up for patrons on Patreon. The half one isn’t playable, it’s setting fluff.

I might still get a short fiction piece up tonight, or I might not. We’ll see.

http://www.patreon.com/topher

New Witchdudes stuff going up on Patreon today in three or four installments, depending on whether I stop fiddling with one of them.

Did I ever post this here?

You are the Metal Witch.

Not necessarily the head-banging, horn-throwing kind, but you are pretty hardcore. You’re a guy in a physical body, with physical needs, and you throw yourself headlong into meeting them with gusto. The sheer gratification you experience when you eat a colossal serving of your favorite meal, dance until you’re exhausted, drink until you can barely stand up, fuck your brains out, lift until your body is on fire, or sleep half the day away is so sublime that it transcends simple hedonism and becomes something almost spiritual. Sure, all that excess – and you do love your excess – isn’t great for you in the long term, and the hangovers and weight gain aren’t so fun. But that’s something to worry about later. And you will worry about it later, you know – there’s something in you, something shiny, glinting under the surface, that craves a higher form of pleasure, a transformation of your base self into something rare and ethereal. But for now you’re happy hanging out at the bottom of Maslow’s hierarchy, where the parties are wilder. Pass the nachos.

Your magic is the magic of cold iron, proof against esoteric tampering; of the grounded, shielding opacity of lead; of the malleable adaptability of copper. While the strengths of base metals come easily to you, with effort your magic also has the flickering allure of silver, the fluid grace of mercury, and the spiritual fulfillment of gold. Your magic plays well with the magic of others, an enchanted fusion you think of as creating alloys – you can make your covenmates’ spells stronger and more resilient. Fundamental needs like hunger, sleep, and lust are easy for you to inflame, while more rarefied effects like love and contentment seem just outside your reach. When you call upon the spirits of the Watchtower Below, metal flows like putty at your command to form weapons, bindings, walls – or more likely, pretty jewelry and baubles. You have a feeling that a new level awaits your power at the top of the Watchtower, but that is a mystery that can wait.

Your name probably reflects your nature, directly or indirectly: Argyris, Bronze, Eisen, Goldwin, Hiranya, Jin, Maadini, Nickel, Orville, Steel, Sterling, Wolfram.

(posting because I have a short fiction ready to show and it has a Metal Witch in it)

You are the Ice Witch. Calling you “cold” wouldn’t just be a cliche, it would be inaccurate. You care – actually you care really deeply. It’s just that you’re very focused. And, fine, you’re hard. And a bit brittle. But not cold. You spend a lot of time gazing into some internal mirror, looking behind you into your past. Maybe there’s a trauma there, or a loss of something you deeply loved. Maybe it’s a puzzle you haven’t solved yet. Whatever the cause, you’re haunted by it, drawn to stare into that mirror until you reach some kind of resolution. You’re pretty sure you never will, though. You have a hard time pulling your focus away and concentrating on the people in front of you, even the ones you love. The lure of that mirror, of rearranging those frozen shards of history until they make sense and give you what you need, it’s just too strong. And it’s too hard to change, at least in a way others can see. More like the imperceptible movements of a glacier. So you’re distracted, standoffish, distant. But not cold.

Your magic is the magic of eternal, unchanging ice, of the stark beauty of the blanket of snow, of the deadly cold that slows and stills, of the polished mirror that only reflects the past. You are incredibly talented at using real mirrors to scry, but only into recent or ancient history, not into the future. Sadly the farther into the past you look, the heavier the layer of rime on the glass, distorting what you see according to your own biases. You can slow processes and changes, stifle passions, and create situations that entrap and enfeeble. When you call upon the guardians of the Watchtower Behind, you can call snow out of the sky, instantly freeze water – even the water vapor in the air – into shapes of your choosing, and rapidly drop the local temperature to dangerous levels. You dream of someday being able to travel into and change the past, but so far such magical power is beyond you.

Your name probably reflects your nature, directly or indirectly (Aubin, Frost, Himesh, Kenyon, Kolden, Noel, North, Quilo, Snow, Whitaker, Winter, Yukio).

You are the Moon Witch.

All right, let’s get this out of the way. You trend a little fem, and you’re fine with that. Masc 4 masc? Get over yourself, honey. If anyone has an issue with your swish, that’s their problem, not yours, and you know your friends will back you up if you need them. Which you usually don’t, because you’re fierce. Prone to high emotion, high drama, and high mystery, you love to leave the people around you dazzled, off-center, and slightly befuddled. There’s a power in being inexplicable, in the ability to strange the otherwise everyday world and people around you. Queer Theory is more like Queer Practice for you, and you’re more than happy to do your part to leave things a little weirder than you found them. You perform hard, you love hard, you fight hard, and you’re ashamed of absolutely nothing – or at least that’s the face you let everyone see. The real you? Well, that could be almost anything. And isn’t that just the most intriguing?

Your magic is the magic of the mysterious moon, yes, but also the magic of the cold, soft light of the stars and the enveloping darkness of the night. You play with emotions like a musician playing an instrument, bringing out the lovesick madness of the moon and the primal terror of things hidden in the night. You can confuse and ensorcell anyone, but especially those prone to depending on logic and reason to function. You can nudge fate by enhancing the pull of the distant stars, disguise yourself with bewitching glamours, and make almost any truth more difficult to find. With the spirits of the Watchtower of the Left Hand aiding you, you can shroud an area in total darkness, make the moon shine like it’s full even when it’s not, stun someone with a blast of starlight, or even fundamentally change someone’s nature – those werewolf stories had to come from somewhere.

Your name probably reflects your nature, directly or indirectly (Altair, Blake, Chandra, Dark, Darren, Hoshi, Kearn, Nash, Orion, Shalim, Sullivan, Tariq).

These got zero feedback from Patrons last week, so I don’t know if they’re any good or not. But I promised I’d post, so.

You are the Wood Witch. Your friends are never quite sure what to expect from you. Will you be wise and laid-back today, or harshly snarky? Warm and nurturing, or distant and distracted? It’s not exactly that you’re moody or bipolar (unless you are, of course), it’s more that the way you interact with the world seems to follow some mysterious internal cycle that’s hard to explain, constant and reassuring in its endless progression. Everyone knows you’re the guy to go to for great advice and unconditional support, but they also all know to be wary, in case the thorns and poison are hiding just behind the foliage. You’re strong and independent, but every so often you seem cold and silent, as if the next flowering of emotion is hiding beneath the surface, preparing to bloom again. You have one trait that can be depended on besides change, though: you’re always growing, moving forward by becoming more yourself.

Your magic is the magic of the majestic, ancient tree, the medicinal herb and the nourishing vegetable, the poisonous berry and the strangling vine, and the tiny seed, full of potential. The spirits of all green growing things are happy to teach you their secrets, as long as you agree to teach those secrets to others in turn. Your herbal concoctions can strengthen the body and soul, unlock the secrets of the mind, or weaken and kill invasive organisms or corrupted flesh. You have the greenest of thumbs, and you can grow a garden anywhere, even in the harshest or least suitable environments. When you channel the power of the Watchtower of the Center, you can make plants grow to impossible sizes at impossible speeds, animate trees and vegetation, overwhelm someone with enchanted pollen, or even temporarily meld with a tree to hide or commune.

Your name probably reflects your nature, directly or indirectly (Aspen, Forester, Garland, Heath, Kunal, Leaf, Linden, Mace, Reed, Ren, Rowan, Sage).

Two new Witchdudes archetypes have now debuted over on my Patreon. For now they’re patron-only but I will repost them here next week. Become a patron to get early access!

Also, I’m experimenting with scheduled posts, so as a bonus, a third new archetype should go up in a couple hours, after I’m no longer online. “Please look forward to it.”

Next week will be something non-witchdudey but still queer-related, as will all my Patron content during Pride Month.

http://www.patreon.com/topher

So I think I’ve settled on stats for now.

Sharp: mundane stuff that requires you to be smart, witty, cunning, quick, precise

Bright: mundane stuff that requires you to be charismatic, impressive, convincing, inspiring, flashy

Deep: mundane stuff that requires you to be empathetic, wise, adaptable, supportive, patient

Solid: mundane stuff that requires you to be strong, resilient, resolute, reliable, forceful

Blade: magic that affects someone’s mind or the spirit overworld

Rod: magic that affects someone’s soul or the spirit mirrorworld

Cup: magic that affects someone’s emotions or the spirit underworld

Coin: magic that affects someone’s body or the physical world

Tower: the strength of one’s connection to the source of one’s magical power

Ego: the strength of one’s attachment to one’s own selfish desires

Subject to change with zero notice!

I’m completely on the fence (no pun intended) about this, so I put it to you.

SHOULD BI GUYS GET TO BE WITCHDUDES?

Please post your justification below as well.

“Hey bro. Do you have a minute? What are you doing?”

Dayton stood at the door to his brother’s room for a moment, then stepped in and closed the door behind him quietly.

Dax looked up from his desk. “Reading the Book of Shadows. Nothing you’d be interested in. What do you want?”

“Actually, it’s kind of about that. I was wondering if I could read it later. Or maybe you could…you know, show me some spells. Like, teach me or whatever.”

Dax sighed theatrically. “Day, we’ve been over this. I can teach you all the spells you want, but you won’t be able to actually make them work. You know what Grandma said. You just don’t have the gift. You never will.”

His brother shuffled over to the twin bed under the window and sat with a thump. “But. What if I do have it? What if I was in my room just now and…like, made my hand glow?”

“Whatever. In order to have magic, you’d have to be –”

He paused, startled. Dayton was hunched over, head in his hands, refusing to look at him.

“Day?”

Dayton finally looked up, silent, tears in his eyes.

“Oh. Oh,” Dax flailed. Then his expression hardened. “Oh, you son of a bitch.”

“Dax…”

“Shut up. Just…shut up! Seventeen years, Dayton! Seventeen years of you calling me your identical twin sister. Seventeen years of you policing the clothes I wore and the books I read and the music I listened to and every goddamned thing I did because nothing was butch enough, and we couldn’t have anyone thinking Dayton fucking Derry’s brother was a queer because it made you look bad!”

“Dax, I’m –“

“I said SHUT UP. You knew how hard it was when I came out to Mom and Dad. You saw what it was doing to me, and you let me do it all alone. We could have done it together, like we’ve always done everything together, and you let me do that ALONE!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t ready. I’m still not ready. I didn’t even want to tell you, but now…” Dayton trailed off, staring at the white light that had just started emanating from his right hand.

Dax took a deep breath and stood, then sat on the bed next to his twin, who looked up with a hopeful expression.

That expression vanished when Dax slammed the Book of Shadows into his brother’s chest. “Take it. Read it. Whatever. Just don’t expect me to teach you anything. You can figure all this out by yourself. Just like I did. And have fun telling all your neanderthal friends that you’re gay.”

Dax stood again and went to the door, pausing as he opened it. He turned and looked back at his brother’s face, very nearly his own face. “You’re on your own now. Just like me. Bro.“

He slammed the door on his way out. Dayton clutched the Book, willing himself to stop crying, dammit, as an unseasonal rain started to fall out of a clear blue sky and splash against his brother’s window.