tea stained paper

sameoldgeo  asked:

Okay, so I've started running a little Pathfinder campaign of my own now. I'm having fun, my players are having fun, the only problem is that I am not quite sure how to make a connected, interesting setting. I can make a billion and more small side-quests with interesting, novel ideas, but I can't figure out how to string them together in any meaningful way. I don't want my game to feel like a "monster of the week/town" type game. Any advice?

Firstly, it’s great to hear that you and your players are already enjoying yourselves, it’s always good to hear those kind of things.

If you are finding your side-quests are being drawn towards the ‘monster-of-the-week’ trope and your players have no problem with this, them it’s not too difficult to make a couple of minor changes so as to achieve the ‘connected’ feeling you desire. That ‘connected’, thematic consistency is the holy-grail of DMing, isn’t it? So I can fully understand your want for this. It’s a good thing to have.

My advice in this scenario is to have some small reoccurring item of sorts appear in some of (maybe all; but only if you are really subtle and smart abut it) these side quests that neatly knits them into a wider narrative that could have some relation to their ‘main’ adventure or objective.

Some examples I can think of right now are;

 - Some of the dangerous and deadly monsters that have been causing destruction in the local area are each covered in savage, tribal tattoos and war-paints that glow in combat, granting them abnormal powers. A cave bear that can breath flame; a Giant Wasp that can teleport short-distances; a gang of Trolls that are supernaturally quick and agile. These tattoos are found to be inscribed by a mysterious shaman, mage, or villainous druid (perhaps an underling of a larger villain, pursuing a smaller objective under their behest. If the party cannot stop this tattoo’er then the final confrontation is tougher - tattooed minions, etc.)

 - Maybe the local gangs, raider groups, or mercenary organisations each hold a piece of a treasure map (magical compass, Gnomish hologram-thingy, etc.) that leads to a well-historied hoard of a legendary warrior, or whatever, of your setting? (An ancient King that one of the PC’s knows about, maybe a relative of one of the NPCs?) The gangs each tore up the map before going their separate ways to stop the others from finding the treasure for themselves. The only way to reunite the pieces is to face the gangs and collect their pieces. They each just so happen to have bounties upon their heads, or are troubling local leadership and authority who are willing to pay for their destruction (maybe the bounty-provider knows about the maps and aims to betray the party?)

 - Perhaps the local authority or leadership is secretly working against the party’s interests and seeks to have them defeated by siding with a horrid villain promising power and wealth and whatever evil people like? The PCs could learn this by finding messages, letters, or witnesses whom the crooked and corrupt leader thought that they had disposed of. They could be found in monster lairs, bandit camps, at the bottom of a small lake, or simply in a lost-dungeon somewhere. These pieces of information can be found as the party go about their adventuring and help them build a more convincing argument to bring the people against their traitorous king, baroness, priest, etc.

One final thing you could do to really seal the deal is to make some simple hand-outs that would legitimise these side-quest narrative arcs. Hand-write a torn-up map on tea-stained paper and tear it into four-pieces. Type-up a letter from a tyrannical warlord to the king about an alliance and a  massive payment for loyal servitude. Draw-up  a quick sketch of what the tattoos look like so the players know that if they see these tattoos again, they know what to expect in a fight.

Hope this helps!

Pixie x

Witch Tip

Save your tea bags for spell ingredients
•Chai Teas usually have: cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, and clove
•Herbal teas are awesome for stocking up on herbs like calendula & chamomile
•Green tea leaves can be used as a banishing herb for its natural “detox” properties
•The filter-paper bags can be used like coffee filters or as little satchets
•The tea bag strings can be saved for simple knot spells. Or you can keep the little tag on the string and use it for labeling bottles- just put masking tape over the label and write on it
•herbal infused baths should be as gentle and non-potent as possible, so using previously brewed tea is perfection
•black tea can be re-brewed and steeped for hours to create a light stain for darkening wood and tea-staining paper
•Keep for tea leaf divination
•Discard for composting
Reusing your tea reduces waste, provides you with extra affordable spell materials, and amplifies the energy of its contents from being in your presence for a longer period of time

Tea Stained Paper

Amongst the ever vast wonders tea has to offer antiquing paper is a fun little diy that leaves you with a nice cuppa and an interesting craft. There are several methods to age paper this is the one I use.

How to age paper with tea:

Step 1: Select a thin piece of paper and write out a letter or whatever else take your fancy. (Be sure to use ink that won’t run)
Step 2:
Crumple your paper into a ball and spread it out across a large plate.
Step 3: Brew a nice cuppa and save the tea bag.
Step 4: Pour some tea over the paper and let it soak through for roughly two minutes. (If you want a darker look let dry and repeat)
Step 5: Use your tea bag and dab the paper to darken specific parts or let it sit for darker areas.
Step 6: Let your paper dry for roughly 30 minutes, but be sure to place a weight such a teaspoon by the edges to keep them from curling in.

Note: If you want a burnt edge look, while the paper is damp hold a corner roughly an inch away from a candle flame and it will burn in. I do this in the sink in case the paper catches fire from being too dry. Please be careful and take precautions doing this extra step.

-The Tea Drinkers Guide

Miracles - Newt

Your name: submit What is this?

The universe is big. It’s vast and complicated and ridiculous. And sometimes, very rarely, impossible things just happen and we call them miracles.

The Doctor told me that. He was right, as he usually is. Impossible things could happen, but they very rarely do. Those impossible things are miracles. I’ve never believed in that sort of thing. I never really saw one happen nor have I heard of one that happened recently. The universe is just cruel that way.

I like to think that the only reason my body is a little nice to me is because I already have too much shit to deal with. I mean, I’m hyperacidic, I’m all dark and twisted, my left leg isn’t quite working the way it used to, I have an anxiety disorder… I mean, that’s a lot to deal with, the least I could do is let me eat all the chocolate in the world.

But like I said, I have a lot on my plate. I don’t need anymore things. When I think that things have finally gotten better, they just get so much worse really quickly. It sucks, but it’s the way it is. It’s been like that for a while.

Now, I’m standing on a grave, supposed to put a red rose on the coffin like it meant something. Like it meant that we were friends.

We were so much more than that. Whatever we were, we weren’t just friends, not to me. He was the person who could make me smile when I was sad, the person who could make me cry of laughter.

He was also, apparently, the person who could make me feel numb with one stupid act.

“Y/N,” Teresa told me, telling me it was time to put my rose on the coffin, but I couldn’t do anything. “Y/N, please.” Tears welled up in my eyes. At this moment, I didn’t care about the stares. I didn’t care if I was making a scene. I sniffled.

“I can’t, Teresa.” I told her, glancing at her then back at the coffin. I saw her shift her weight to her other leg and tilt her head.

“I know it’s hard, but it’s time to let go.” I shook my head.

“I can’t.” I repeated, softer, my voice cracking. “Can I just be alone for a while?” I asked. She nodded. Everybody had already walked away after putting down their roses, so she put hers down and walked away. I walked up to the coffin as it began to rain.

If miracles did happen, if that sort of thing existed, why couldn’t it happen now? Why couldn’t Newt just spring back from the dead? Why couldn’t he give me one last hug?

I loved him. He was… everything to me. I would give up everything if he could just come back.

“You know I don’t believe in this sort of thing.” I talked to… well, nobody. I sighed. “Is it easier being the one in the coffin? At least you don’t have to feel this numbness or stupidity or guilt.” I sighed. “Why’d you leave?” I asked. “Why’d you have to go? Why couldn’t you just… talk to me? Instead of… this?” I asked nobody. “I loved you and not in the way you thought I did. You were my person. My McDreamy. My Rory. At least, to me that’s what you were. I may not be your Meredith or your Amy. You might be John and I’m Sherlock, I love you but you have your eyes locked on somebody else. You might be Cas, but I may not be your Dean. I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I don’t know how to do this kind of thing. I thought I did, but I don’t. I thought I would be able to… I don’t know, put some sort of armour on, but I can’t. I don’t know how.” I admitted. “Why’d you have to leave me the moment I needed you most?” I sniffled. I put the rose on the coffin, my hand still lingering on the wood for a moment as tears spilled down my cheeks.

“Y/N?” I looked up, for a moment, my mind managed to trick itself into thinking it was Newt. I looked back, seeing Thomas, feeling my heart sink to the ground. I glanced at the coffin and looked back at Thomas, retrieving my hand and holding it to my chest. I cleared my throat.


“He wanted me to give you this on your birthday.” Thomas lifted the small box. “I didn’t know then why he couldn’t give it himself, but now, I guess I do… Anyways, now that he’s gone, I think you need whatever’s left of him now more than ever.” He shrugged, handing me the box and engulfing me into a hug. “It’ll be okay. You’ll live. I’m sure he didn’t mean to cause you this much pain. Happy birthday.” He told me before pulling away and walking off.

I looked back at the coffin and back at the small, wooden, brown box in my hands. On the lid, there were words smouldered on it. “I wish I was your night in shining whatever.” Another tear strolled down my cheek. I sat down on the grass, not caring about my black dress. I opened the box.

There were pictures of us and of all the people I mentioned. MerDer, Johnlock, Destiel, Amory… There was a letter on tea-stained paper. 

Dear Y/N,

I know that if you find this, you’re probably going to be celebrating your birthday. You’re probably going to hate me for writing this and ruining your lovely day. I don’t know. Happy birthday.

I have a confession to make. I like you. A lot. You may not feel the same, but I love you. I really, really do. I’ve known that I’ve liked you since third grade, that I loved you since the beginning of the year, but if you’re reading this, that means I’m not there to make some grand gesture to tell you myself and I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you and tell you. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to talk me down. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know. I’m sorry for hurting you if I did. I’m sorry.

Love, Newt

I put the note down, back in the box. In the bottom of the box, was a white rosebud. I saw something shiny in the middle of it and I opened it up, finding a rose gold ring with a diamond and moonstone on it.

At this point I was sobbing, this made me feel even worse.

He must’ve spent a fortune.

He loved me. And I loved him. We could’ve been together if we just…

If he hadn’t…

We had a chance. We had hope…

But it was all gone. All of it. Because he was gone. Because he died.

Today, there was a miracle. The boy I loved, loved me back… But there was also a tragedy.

The boy I loved, the boy who loved me back… was dead.

Queen - $60+ shipping
3x12in, watercolor and pen on tea stained paper

message me here or laura@fallenlights.net if interested.

Getting ready for GenCon 50!  I’ll be at booth 555, NOT THE ART SHOW :D  I’ve got a corner booth so I’m bringing preeeeettty much everything with me.

But for now, in July, I’m sorting through what originals I’ve got on hand and posting them just in case anyone not able to go to GenCon can grab it if they want it.

Frames are removable, but do not affect price outside of shipping costs.

All work not bought by July 31st will be getting packed up until October.


This is the urgent letter that Friar Laurence tries to send to Romeo between Acts IV and V. The audience won’t get to see what’s inside, so I had a bit of fun. (But I do think Friar L. would totally use plant-themed stationery and/or draw plants in the margins of his letters.)

I hope this letter reaches you quickly, and that it finds you well. There’s been a change of plans. You need to come back to Verona IMMEDIATELY. (Yes, I know – the Prince’s decree, banishment, etc. Just be extra-stealthy and don’t stab anyone this time!) I had to give Juliet a sleeping potion because reasons. I’ll explain in more detail later. It’s a really convincing sleeping potion, some of my finer work. Everybody will think she’s dead, and she’ll be buried alive in the Capulet vault. You need to be there when she wakes up. Since she’s “dead”, nobody will come looking for her. It’s not too late for a happy ending to your story, but timing will be key.
Good luck.
Friar Laurence


SWOON Studio

“#132 Alixa and Naima”

AP 5c Layer Screenprint on Tea Stained Paper

Hand Painted

32″× 11″ in

81.3 cm × 27.9 cm

Edition of 106

“Just up today! Two of my long time friends and muses, Alixa and Naima, portrayed here, are bringing together 35 musicians from across their incredible community, and creating their first album. They have a kickstarter up and running, and now it includes this silk screened portrait of them that I juuuust finished adding painting details to this week.  Find it, and more about them here:



(( Warning for depression-related content. I had a need for angst. ))

England raises the musket and it’s like he can see another world all over again. A kaleidoscope of rain and mud and disappointment all swirling together in smatterings of color and black and white and spots around the edges where the memory tears and scars like a hole that’s been left open far too long, empty and gaping and musty and full of dust. And he pulls the trigger and nothing happens because the weapon is old and useless, just like he is, and if he couldn’t shoot it back then then how in god’s name was he to think he could shoot it now, even in the safety of his own home, alone.

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