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drama team kira was so special. light misa and teru conspiring on the roofs under the full moon. motivating each other in maid cafes. escaping the assassination attempts of a possessed blond doll. actually communicating

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SEASON 3 TEASER JUST CAME OUT AIB NATION HOW WE FEELING

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I still think this post is one of the things that showcases my genius. its chaotic and confusing. i’m back in my aib era and kinda want to expand on this( doing everything except writing my mira adopts arisu au that has been in my drive since season 1)

Au where Hatter is running a dating service on the Beach.

So after he has done the speech and gone over the rules.

Hatter: And now with the boring stuff out of the way. Are you single?

Newcomer: *hesitantly* Yes…?

Hatter: Excellent

He has a form prepared with different questions and an album with every member of the Beach.

Mira is responsible for taking photos with a Polaroid camera( she takes her job very seriously)

So when the player has answered the question, he looks very focused through the album

A profile looks like this:

And then tells the player who they got closest too. Also he’s the only one who can understand how his system works. Kuzuryu tried to look through the album once but got a headache.

Does any of the combinations actually work out?

Some did but there was also the Niragi and Chishiya incident.

That was one of the few days that Aguni was drunk on the Beach. go p

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💕 Frenemies 💕

Rating: PG-13

Relationship: None

Tags: swearing, suggestive conversations, implications of sexual activity, threats of violence, arguing (but it’s funny)

Summary: Chisiya and Hatter drag each other straight to hell. (Based on some headcanons I made when I first joined the Tumblr AiB fandom because I think Chisiya and Hatter are the two biggest bitches at the damn Beach and I would absolutely LOVE to see them battle it out.)

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Arisu is nervous.

…Okay, he’s nervous a lot these days, but that’s just a side effect of living in the Borderlands.

Today, though, he’s nervous for a new reason. A reason that involves being in a room with a group of (mostly) strangers and discussing the ins and outs of running a hotel at the end of the world.

Yep, that’s right. It’s his first Executive Meeting and it’s been going…

…Decently well, actually.

Mira had taken him under her wing, waving him over and inviting him to sit next to her as soon as he walked in the room. Although she probably has some kind of ulterior motive, he’s just happy to be included, and takes his place at the table feeling a little less like a fish out of water.

The meeting starts seven (and a half) minutes late when Hatter swans into the room with an iced coffee and a gruff looking Aguni in tow. There is obviously something between these two very unique men, but Arisu’s not sure what exactly it is…and, at this point, he’s too afraid to ask.

By all accounts, the meeting begins rather quickly—although Hatter is the captain of this metaphorical ship, it seems that Kuzuryuu is at the helm today, steering the conversation from card collection to game theories to transporting players from the Beach to the game arenas. Arisu mentions the bus from his recent Four of Diamonds game and suggests bussing as a potentially fuel-saving alternative.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Hatter says, mulling over the particulars—or maybe he’s just speaking slowly because he’s under the influence of some kind of substance, it’s difficult to tell with that guy, “Looks like our new friend is hiding a big brain under all that shaggy hair—I can relate.”

“Arisu’s brain is big because he’s smart,” Chisiya comments, “yours is big due to inter-cranial swelling brought on by diving head-first into whatever bad idea happens to take your fancy.”

Arisu’s heart skips a beat—not in the nice ‘I just made accidental eye contact with my crush’ kind of way, but in a ‘please don’t let the mercurial kimono man flip out and shoot this guy who is sort of my friend’ kind of way.

Luckily, though, murder doesn’t seem to be on the man’s mind…at least, not right now. In an action that is both chilling and calm, he slides the shiny black sunglasses to rest on the top of his head.

“Mori,” Hatter says solemnly, “get the board.”

Aguni rolls his eyes and mutters something akin to ‘here we go again,’ but ultimately leaves his place at the head of the table to do as he’s bid.

Arisu mood has shifted from ‘potentially not freaking out’ to ‘slightly freaking out and very confused.’ Mira lays a friendly hand on his shoulder and whispers to him that he’s ‘going to adore this,’ but that isn’t particularly helpful.

“Now,” Hatter says, leaning back in his chair and tapping his fingertips together in a way that looks very devious, “I don’t suppose anyone would like to volunteer to be scorekeeper…”

“Arisu should do it.”

All eyes shift the nervous young man, who squirms uncomfortably in his seat at the thought of being involved in whatever the hell is going on.

“I, uh—“

“Good idea, Chisiya,” Mira chimes in, lips stretched into her signature unnerving smile, “since he’s new, he’ll be the least biased out of all of us.”

“It’s easy,” Last Boss reassures him, “all you have to do is give a point to whoever delivers an insult.”

Aguni reappears, pushing a white dry-erase board in front of him. The words “Hatter” and “Chisiya” have already been written at the top in blue marker, with a line going down the middle.

“Uh, okay,” Arisu agrees—because he doesn’t really have a choice here, despite the fact that he has technically been asked to assist.

“Marvelous,” Hatter exclaims, flashing Arisu a wide-mouthed smile. Arisu returns the gesture (albeit awkwardly) as he scurries his way to the front of the room.

“Gentlemen, you know the rules,” Aguni grumbles, “no insulting mothers, no allusions to previous murders and/or crimes, and absolutely no slapping.”

Hatter rolls his eyes at that.

“If you cry, you lose. If you take more than ten seconds to respond, you lose,” Aguni continues, “Whoever has the most points after ten minutes gets to go first in the Lightning Round.”

“That’s the best fuckin’ part,” Niragi interjects, “Hatter always kills it with the name-calling.”

“Actually, they tied last time,” Ann recounts coolly, examining the perfect blood red of her manicure, “so this is a grudge match.”

“Which I’m sure I’ll win,” Hatter adds very smugly.

“Ah, such confidence,” Chisiya muses, “and here I thought you were completely devoid of redeeming qualities.”

“Hey—you know we don’t count it until Kuzuryuu starts the clock,” Aguni chides, then turns to face the bespectacled lawyer, “You good to go?”

“Yeah,” Kuzuryuu replies, his voice already tinged with exasperation, “ready when you are.”

Arisu uncaps the marker in his hand and clenches his jaw—even though the air is thick with tension, he seems to be the only one feeling the effects. Maybe it’s always like this and he just has to get used to it.

“Alright,” Kuzuryuu says. He pulls a stopwatch from his shorts pocket. “Three…two…one…go.”

“You know,” Hatter says, “we never did discuss who would go first.”

“What’s the old saying,” Chisiya replies, “Ah, right—‘age before beauty.’ That means you, doesn’t it?”

Arisu puts a tick mark next to Chisiya’s name—which receives an affirmative nod from Aguni, much to his relief.

“I may be older than you,” Hatter responds, “but perhaps that’s not a bad thing. With age comes wisdom and experience, which are two things you’ll probably never have…”

One point next to Hatter’s name. Arisu begins to feel like he could maybe get the hang of this…

“I was top of my class in medical school,” Chisiya remarks, “I have plenty of experience. In fact, we were doing a proctology unit right before I got to the Borderlands…”

“Not sure how that’s relevant…”

Chisiya shrugs.

“I know an asshole when I see one.”

The crowd ooh’s. Last Boss reaches into his pocket and takes out a small orange—maybe it’s a clementine, Arisu can’t really be sure—and begins meticulously peeling it.

“Fuck, man,” Niragi heckles from the sidelines, “you gonna let him get away with that?”

Last Boss wordlessly hands him a section of fruit, which Niragi absentmindedly accepts. Between his shirt and the way he laps the little wedge up with a swipe of his tongue, Arisu thinks he’d make an excellent lizard.

“Patience, Niragi,” Hatter says, “He needs time to warm up and get all of these half-baked, lukewarm little jabs out of his system.”

Two points each. They’re pretty good at this, but that’s probably because they’ve had plenty of practice; the existence of a pre-prepared board speaks to that.

“I’m taking it easy today,” Chisiya replies, “Unlike some, I have nothing to prove…”

The look he shoots Hatter is pure poison wrapped in a dagger-toothed smirk. Arisu has seen him make that expression before, but a little less gleeful than it is right now.

“You know,” Hatter muses, pointing a lazy finger in Chisiya’s direction, “I think we could be friends after we leave the Borderlands. I’ll have to get you my phone number…”

“Wait for it,” Aguni mumbles to Arisu.

“…oh, I know! You can ask your father. He calls me when he’s lonely,” Hatter gloats, “Just check under ‘Daddy.’ I’m sure it’ll be there.”

“Oh shit,” Niragi shouts, popping another slice of orange into his mouth, “your dad would have to be desperate to bang this guy!”

“Hmm. If my father calls you…that,” Chisiya says, “then that would make you a grandpa.”

Chisiya pauses for a moment and puts his hand over his chest, as if he’s about to offer heartfelt advice.

“I’m proud of you for finally acting your age.”

Mira gasps. Aguni leans in Arisu’s direction and discreetly tells him to give Chisiya two points for that one. Even Last Boss, who had been fully devoted to getting all the little white strings of membrane off of his orange, looks up to see Hatter’s reaction.

…But Hatter doesn’t seem to react much at all. In fact, he seems to not be paying attention to the conversation at all; with his lips pressed into a tight line and his gaze is fixed towards the ceiling, as if lost in thought.

Arisu jumps a little when Hatter suddenly smacks his hand down on the table with a heavy thud!

“I’ve done it,” he exclaims, “I’ve finally figured it out!”

Chisiya’s eyebrows raise.

“That you’re a pathetic, lonely man who hides from his feelings behind a haze of sex, alcohol, and petty displays of power?”

“Oh, everybody knows that,” Hatter spits back, hand flicking a lazy point towards Arisu and the board, “Statements of fact don’t count.”

Arisu nods quickly, using his index finger to rub out the half-line he’d made.

“Now, as I was saying,” Hatter continues, “I’ve finally figured out why your hair looks like ten different kinds of Kentucky-fried tragic.”

“Does that count as a statement of fact,” Ann asks flatly.

“It’s not that bad,” Mira counters, “I mean, it’s definitely bad, but I think a deep conditioning treatment could go a long way…”

“Hm, yes. Conditioner. A vital part of any hair-care routine,” Hatter says, running a hand through his own dark locks as if to showcase their silky shine, “You know, hair care is a passion of mine…”

“One minute left,” Kuzuryuu interrupts, “if you’ve got a point, make it.”

“Fine, fine. The reason our friend and colleague has the crispiest hair in seven prefectures,” Hatter explains, “is because conditioner is kept on the highest shelf in the store and he’s just too short to reach it.”

Niragi shrieks in laughter. Hatter leans his elbows onto the table and rests his chin on his laced-together fingers—like a teenage girl at a sleepover about to spill the latest gossip for her eager friends.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he says with a over-exaggerated pout, “next time, I’ll help you.”

The smile that splits his lips is pure venom, and even a few of the other executives wince. Chisiya cocks his head to the side and gives Hatter a quick once-over with his gaze.

“I don’t know, I think I’m the ideal height,” he says, “I’ve got the perfect angle to gut you like a fish.”

“Good luck getting through my abs of steel.”

“You’d cut like butter and you know it—“

“Actually,” Last Boss interjects, “it depends on the knife. I’d imagine you’d choose a scalpel, given your background in medicine, which is good for smaller, more precise cuts. But you may want to consider something a bit more practical for close-combat…”

“Right. Uh,” Aguni cuts him off, “let’s move on to the Lightning Round.”

Arisu is glad he doesn’t have to hear any more about the finer points of evisceration—it’s one thing to see it on TV or in a video game, but knowing that the scary man who carries around a big knife has actual experience in stabbing and slicing makes him feel a bit ill-at-ease.

“Since Chisiya has a two-point advantage, he’ll get to go first,” Aguni concludes, “and remember, this is the Lightning Round. Gotta be quick with it.”

Chisiya smirks.

“Think you can keep up?”

“Can you?”

“Clock starts…” Kuzuryuu drones, “now.”

“Cute budget Hugh Hefner cosplay. Compensating for something?”

Arisu’s eyes grow large. Chisiya’s certainly not holding back now.

“Yeah, I’m compensating,” Hatter rebuffs, “compensating for whatever the fuck boring-ass, bargain-bin bullshit you’ve got going on.”

“It appears I’ve struck a nerve…”

“I’m gonna strike you into the fuckin’ wall—“

“No slapping,” Aguni reminds him, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I had no idea you were so fragile,” Chisiya muses, “So sorry for hurting your feelings.”

“Nothing you say can hurt me,” Hatter retorts while narrowing his eyes, “I work retail.”

The squabbling continues, each man giving as good as he gets. It’s impressive—and uncomfortably fast, with Arisu scrambling to mark down each point in time to hear the next rapid-fire insult.

A tap on his shoulder breaks his concentration. Arisu turns to see Aguni leaning slightly towards him while keeping his eyes on the argument in front of him.

“Even ‘em out,” Aguni mumbles.

“Huh?”

“The points,” he clarifies, keeping his voice low, “doesn’t matter how, just make sure they have the same amount.”

“But—“

“The only thing they want more than to win is to not lose,” Aguni nods in the direction of Chisiya and Hatter’s rapid-fire squabbling, “If they tie, nobody complains, and we all get out of here in one piece.”

“I get that,” Arisu replies, “But, won’t the others say something? I mean, Niragi seems pretty invested—“

“It was his idea,” Aguni says, turning his attention towards the the man in question, “He’s a pretty smart kid, actually. Just a little…well, you know…”

As if on cue, Niragi does one of his weird tongue-sticky-outy moves, the grip on his rifle tightening as if it’s some kind of deadly security blanket.

“…Yeah, I, uh, I see what you mean.”

Arisu gets to work. In order to make it seem like he was actually counting this whole time, he adds a handful of tick marks next to each name—a move that grants him an nod of approval from Aguni, who then claps his hands together to get everyone’s attention.

“Last one,” he announces, “make it count.”

“Hm,” Chisiya says, “I would, but…he’s not really worth the effort.”

“Cute,” Hatter replies, “you’re just…oh, you’re just adorable, Shinsuke.”

“You know thats not my name.”

“I know that I don’t care.”

“Alright, alright,” Aguni interrupts before the conversation could devolve into further squabbling, “Arisu’s gonna call it.”

Once again, all eyes are on Arisu—it’s less unnerving this time around, but he still feels a modicum of panic set in as the group waits for his verdict.

“It’s uh,” he gulps nervously, sidestepping so the board is visible to the audience, “it’s a tie, I guess…”

“Well, well, well,” Hatter gloats, “looks like, once again, you’ve failed to best me in a battle of wits. Better luck next time, my dear.”

“I’d hardly call it a battle,” Chisiya sasses, “well, maybe for you, but I certainly didn’t have any trouble.”

A hand pats Arisu on the shoulder—once, twice, a heavy but good-natured succession of thuds—and Aguni nods his head in the direction of the table. Arisu takes that as permission to abandon his post as scorekeeper and slip back into his original seat.

This is…oh, boy, Usagi’s gonna love hearing about this.

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aib fans have to talk more about arisu and mira

both as mother and son/two sides of the same coin/twin flames or whatever relationship you think they have

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Usagi as a militant AU

In this AU Niragi doesnt SA anyone

• Instead of approaching Usagi at the pool in front of everyone. Aguni is present when Arisu and Usagi finds the Beach

• He offers her a place on the militants and Usagi accepts.

Aguni to the other militants: This is your new sister

• They don’t accept her until they see her climbing the Beach building to get to the Breakfast first

• She would teach the other members survival skills

• Also Usagi and Last Boss friendship, she’s a mountain climber and Last Boss in the manga is obsessed with famous explorers, I think they would find common ground

• I think they would bond first and Niragi would start crashing their conversations about survival.

• Niragi would take his role as an older brother very seriously. He would threaten Arisu until both of them reassured him that they only were friends

• We see that Usagi clearly knows some fighting during the Queen of Spades game.

• Usagi could have a bigger role during the plan to steal the cards. She could probably keep them away long enough that Arisu has time to fully look over the room, so Chishiya doesn’t have to betray them in order to find the hiding spot.

• Just the parallels of Hatter taking Arisu under his wing while Usagi becomes Aguni’s prodigy

• Instead of Arisu joining Heiya and Aguni it’s Usagi

Usagi: So he adopted you too?

Heiya: Yes, he told me about the militants. You were definitely his favorite.

• They succeed in killing the King of Spades in the woods in this AU

• So the Queen of Hearts probably happen the same way as in the manga. Where they play Rock Paper Scissors of which two should go into the arena.

(Because I strongly believe the reason why Aguni asked for Usagi at the pool was because he remembered her from the Tag game. And knew she was a capable player that would make a good militant.)

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re: this reddit post i found that discusses the idea that bedelia was too focused on being safe from hannibal, and that she neglected to consider the danger of actively provoking will (and his jealousy), who is just as dangerous. she did this by taunting him about how she was hannibal's wife, and with him "behind the veil" unlike will. OP says that bedelia seems like will's primary post-fall target because of this, and mentions the end credit scene of bedelia in TWOTL. (i really recommend reading their whole post! it was a very interesting observation and theory)

i am going to work with this idea that will is jealous of/angry at bedelia for her being in italy with hannibal instead of him (because will was supposed to be the one hannibal ran away with), and that the end credit scene of bedelia is reality.

i think there is significance to the fact that bedelia specifically had her leg (and most likely the rest of her limbs) cut off, cooked, and eaten by will and hannibal.

who is the only other person we have seen killed this way? gideon. why did hannibal want gideon dead in the first place? because gideon was effectively stealing hannibal's identity as the chesapeake ripper.

both gideon and bedelia were living lives that were not their lives to live. gideon falsely living as the chesapeake ripper, and bedelia falsely living as hannibal's companion, "behind the veil," in will's place.

i also thought it was interesting that in antipasto, the episode switches between the b&w flashback of hannibal cooking and eating gideon's limbs, and hannibal and bedelia's life in europe. i thought this could've been some subtle foreshadowing — as bedelia is living a life that wasnt hers to live, we see what happened to a man who was living a life that wasn't his to live.

as hannibal and gideon eat together, gideon learns about the real chesapeake ripper ("you were determined to know the chesapeake ripper, gideon. now is your opportunity"). i imagine that will and hannibal would do the same thing to bedelia. explaining their life together post-cliff, which what was supposed to happen post-mizumono, to bedelia who was in will's place, living a life that wasn't hers to live.

even further, i noticed that the painting changes in the room bedelia is in from the last time we see her in TWOTL (when will tells her his plan to fake hannibals escape) to the post-credit scene, which indicates that time has passed. so, they didnt instantly go to kill bedelia after the cliff. this time between the cliff and the post-credit scene could be the story of will and hannibal's life together that they explain to bedelia

so, bedelia gets the same treatment as gideon. they both get to see how it feels to (literally) have a part of them, their identity, their lives, taken from them. as they learn about the life they were stealing from the person whose life they were stealing. the divine punishment of a sinner mirrors the sin being punished.

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British Titles

I usually don't share posts of this type, but I've taken the liberty of doing so because I've read several fanfics and seen too many posts both here and on TikTok, in which it's more than evident that many people don't know how British noble titles worked in the 18th and 19th century. This is something I've seen more in the Bridgerton fandom, but many content creators or writers from other fandoms have made the same mistakes when interpreting noble titles.

First of all, I would like to clarify something. English and British noble titles are not exactly the same, although they are related. The following explains the difference and the historical context:

Historical Context.

England:

Before the formation of the United Kingdom, England had its own system of noble titles.

Titles such as duke, marquess, earl, viscount, and baron were common.

2. Great Britain:

In 1707, with the Act of Union, England and Scotland united to form the Kingdom of Great Britain.

After this union, noble titles became titles of the Kingdom of Great Britain.

3. United Kingdom:

In 1801, with the incorporation of Ireland through the Act of Union, the Kingdom of Great Britain became the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.

This further expanded the scope of noble titles.

Noble Titles.

Despite these political changes, the titles themselves (duke, marquess, earl, viscount, baron) remained consistent in terms of hierarchy and honor. The main difference was the realm and origin of the title:

English Titles:

Referred specifically to those created in the Kingdom of England before 1707.

Examples: Duke of Norfolk, Marquess of Winchester, Earl of Derby.

2. British Titles:

Refers to those created after 1707 in the Kingdom of Great Britain and later in the United Kingdom.

Examples: Duke of Marlborough, Marquess of Rockingham, Earl of Chatham.

Differences and Similarities.

Similarities:

The hierarchy and responsibilities of the titles remained the same, regardless of the change in the kingdom's designation.

Titles granted by the British crown maintained the same forms of address and privileges.

2. Differences:

British titles cover a broader scope, including Scotland and Ireland (later Northern Ireland).

English titles were specific to the Kingdom of England before the formation of Great Britain.

In short, while English and British noble titles are part of the same hierarchy and nobility system, the main distinction lies in the political and historical context in which they were created. During the 18th and 19th centuries, this difference was based on whether the titles originated before or after the unions that first formed Great Britain and later the United Kingdom.

Now then, with that said, I want to mention that my main reference for this is the article 'ENGLISH TITLES IN THE 18TH AND 19TH CENTURIES' by Jo Beverley, who is a Member of the RWA Hall of Fame for Regency Romance. Here is the link if you want to read the original article: On Titles (jobev.com)

It is also important to mention that, as Jo Beverley said, this brief run-down of English titles is for use by fiction writers. It is by no means comprehensive, but covers the more common situations arising in novels set in the above periods.

Now, the peerage basically runs according to primogeniture, ie the eldest son gets nearly everything. If a peer has no eldest son, the title and possessions that belong to it go to the next male heir, probably a brother or nephew.

There are a very few titles that can pass to a female if there is no direct heir, but they will revert to the male line when the lady bears a son. (Such as the monarchy.) Some titles can automatically pass through a female heir (when there is no male heir) and most can be revived by subsequent generations by petitioning to the Crown. But that's getting into more complicated areas. If your plot depends on something unusual, please do research it thoroughly before going ahead.

As Beverley said, this is a bit more complicated and requires further research if it's something you wish to incorporate into your work, especially if it's set in the 18th or 19th centuries. In the 20th century, this was more common. A clear example would be Lord Mountbatten (1st Earl Mountbatten of Burma), who had no sons, only two daughters. Therefore, he passed his title to his firstborn, Patricia Knatchbull (née Mountbatten). Thanks to this title, the Countess was entitled to a seat in the House of Lords, where she remained until 1999, when a House of Lords Act removed most hereditary peers from the chamber.

But returning to the main topic, the eldest son is called the heir apparent, as he is undoubtedly the heir. If there is no such son, the next in line is called the heir presumptive because, however improbable (such as the duke being on his deathbed), there remains a possibility of a closer heir being born. Therefore, an heir presumptive does not hold the title of heir, if there is one. (See below about heir's titles.)

If a peer dies leaving a wife but no son, the heir inherits unless the widow says she might be with child. It is for her to do that. If she stays silent, it is assumed that she is not. If she's pregnant, everything waits until the child is born.

These last two paragraphs can be perfectly illustrated by an example that many know. In 'When he was wicked', after the death of John Sterling, Earl of Kilmartin, Michael Sterling is not immediately named as the new Earl upon his cousin's death, as Francesca announces her pregnancy. But since she had a miscarriage, there was no longer a possible heir to the late Earl of Kilmartin, and therefore, the title is immediately inherited by Michael.

Continuing with the main topic, an heir must be legitimate at birth to inherit a title, though that could mean a marriage ceremony performed while the mother is in labor. A peer may raise bastards with devotion and/or marry the mother later, but a bastard child can never be his legal heir.

It's also crucial to mention that peers automatically had seats in the House of Lords. Note, however, that courtesy titles (those held by heirs) do not give seats, or any of the other privileges of the peerage.

Something else that is highly important to clarify, as confusion is quite common, is that most peers do not use their surnames as their title. Thus, the usual pattern would be something like Sebastian Burgoyne, Earl of Malzard. He is Lord Malzard NEVER Lord Burgoyne. (Or, for that matter, Lord Sebastian.) As an author, you might like variety, but take as a general rule is that no one ever had two forms of address.

THE RANKS OF THE PEERAGE

Duke.

Leaving aside royalty, this is the highest rank. His wife is the Duchess. They will be duke and duchess of something.

If we use the famous main couple from Bridgerton Season 1, the example would be: Duke and Duchess of Hastings. Address is "Your Grace", though familiars may address them just as Duke and Duchess. Like, "Fine weather for shooting, eh, Duke?" or may address the duke by title. "Care for more port, Hastings?"

The duke will also have a family name, that is, a surname, but he will not use it in the normal course of events. And something crucial that is also commonly confused, the duchess does NOT use the surname at all. Continuing with the same example, if Daphne Bridgerton marries the Duke of Hastings (whose surname is Basset), she will be the Duchess of Hastings and will informally sign as Daphne Hastings, NEVER as Daphne Basset.

The duke's eldest son is his heir and will have his father's second-best title as his courtesy title. Nearly all peers have a number of titles marking their climb up the ranks. The heir to a duke is often the next lowest ranking peer, a marquess, but the title could, however, be an earldom, or even a viscountcy. For example, the eldest son of Daphne and Simon, the Duke and Duchess of Hastings, holds the courtesy title that his father had when the Late Duke of Hastings was still alive: Earl of Clyvedon.

Important note, a courtesy title does not give the holder a seat in the House of Lords or other privileges of the peerage.

If the heir has a son before the heir becomes duke, that son will take the next lowest title as a courtesy title. If the heir dies before his father, his eldest son becomes the heir apparent and takes his father's title.

Apart from the heir, a duke's sons are given the courtesy title Lord with their Christian name. (Lord + firstname + surname). Continuing with the example of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings, assuming that like in the book, they also have David and Edward in the series, their courtesy titles would be: Lord David Basset and Lord Edward Basset. They are NEVER Lord Basset or Lord David Hastings and Lord Edward Hastings.

All duke's daughters are given the courtesy title (Lady + firstname + surname). And continuing with the same example, the daughters of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings, Belinda and Caroline, would be: Lady Belinda Basset and Lady Caroline Basset. Also, they are NEVER Lady Basset or Lady Belinda Hastings and Lady Caroline Hastings.

And also, if they marry a commoner, they retain the title. Let's say Lady Belinda marries Mr. Sticklethwait, she becomes Lady Belinda Sticklethwait. But if she marries a peer, she adopts his title. If Lady Belinda marries the Earl of Herrick, she becomes Countess of Herrick, Lady Herrick. And if she marries the holder of a courtesy title, then she may use his title or her birth title as she wishes.

I make this clarification because it's the most common mistake in these types of novels. Note that in all cases, titles like Lord or Lady with both first and surname (eg. Lady Anne Middleton) and Lord or Lady "last name" or "title" (Lady Middleton) are exclusive. No one can be both at the same time. Moreover, Lord or Lady "firstname" is a title conferred at birth. It CANNOT be gained later in life except when the father accedes to a title and thus raises his family.

So, Lady Mary Smith is not Lady Smith and vice versa. Lord John Brown in not Lord Brown and vice versa. If Mary Smith marries Lord Brown she becomes Lady Brown, NOT Lady Mary. (If she marries Lord John Brown, she becomes Lady John Brown. Yes, it may sound odd to modern ears, but the past is, as they say, a different country. That's the charm of historical fiction.)

Marquess.

This is the next rank. (As above, it can be spelled marquis or marquess, but in either case is pronounced markwess.)

Similar to the duke, he will be the Marquess of something, for example: He is Richard Byron, the Marquess of Salisbury, or Lord Salisbury, or simply Salisbury to his family. His wife is the Marchioness of Salisbury or Lady Salisbury. She would sign with her firstname and title, for example: Diana Salisbury, NEVER Diana Byron.

His heir apparent takes his next highest title as a courtesy title (eg. Earl of Cranborne). All other sons have the title of Lord with their first and surname (eg. Lord Arthur Byron and Lord Albert Byron, NEVER Lord Byron or Lord Arthur Salisbury and Lord Albert Salisbury). All daughters have the title of Lady with their first and surname (eg. Lady Alexandra Byron and Lady Amelia Byron, NEVER Lady Byron or Lady Alexandra Salisbury and Lady Amelia Salisbury).

Earl.

He will nearly always be earl of something. His wife is the Countess. If we take another famous couple from Bridgerton, they would refer to him as "the Earl of Kilmartin" or "Lord Kilmartin," or simply "Kilmartin" among family. His wife will be the Countess of Kilmartin or Lady Kilmartin, and she will sign as Francesca Kilmartin. In the same way as with the wife of a duke or marquess, considering that the Earl of Kilmartin is named John Stirling, Francesca will NEVER be called Francesca Stirling. That's why in the series, when she introduces herself to Michaela, she says that her name is now Kilmartin and NOT Stirling.

It's important to mention that some Earls do not use 'of' like Earl Spencer, and in that case, the family surname is the same as the title (following the previous example, the surname would be Spencer), but this is quite unusual and I think it should be avoided in fiction unless it's a crucial plot point.

As with a duke or marquess, the earl's heir will take the next lowest title as a courtesy title, and the heir's son, the next again. Continuing with the example of the Kilmartins, it's not very clear what the courtesy title for John Sterling II (son of Francesca and Michael in the books) is, but if Michael Sterling is the Earl of Kilmartin and has a subsidiary title of Viscount, then their eldest son, John Sterling II, would use the courtesy title of Viscount Glenmore or Lord Glenmore. If there is no specific subsidiary title, then the eldest son would simply be known as Lord John Stirling.

All the daughters of an earl are given the courtesy title: Lady + their first name. Again, using the Kilmartins as an example: Lady Janet Stirling and NEVER Lady Janet Kilmartin. Younger sons of an earl, however, are merely "The Honorable" which is not used in casual speech. So, assuming in the books Michael and Francesca had another son, for example, Michael Stirling II, he would simply be The Honorable Michael Stirling, but in casual speech, he would simply be referred to as Mr. Michael Stirling or just Mr. Stirling.

Viscount.

His wife is a Viscountess. He will not use 'of'. He will be, for example, Viscount Bridgerton, usually known as Lord Bridgerton, or just Bridgerton. His wife will be known as Lady Bridgerton and will sign herself Kathani Bridgerton.

His heir has no special title. All children are known as "The Honorable". Continuing with the example of the Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton, their children would be called:

*The Honorable Edmund Bridgerton, and simply be referred to as Mr. Edmund Bridgerton.

*The Honorable Miles Bridgerton, and simply be referred to as Mr. Miles Bridgerton.

*The Honorable Charlotte Bridgerton, and simply be referred to as Miss Charlotte Bridgerton.

*The Honorable Mary Bridgerton, and simply be referred to as Miss Mary Bridgerton.

Baron.

This is the lowest rank in the peerage. His wife is a Baroness. NOTE that the terms baron and baroness are only used in the most formal documents, or when the distinction has to be made elsewhere. General usage is simply to call them Lord and Lady.

She will sign with her name and title. The children are known as "The Honorable".

Using another character from Bridgerton, if we assume that Colin and Penelope Bridgerton's son is named Elliot, then Elliot Bridgerton, the new Lord Featherington, would sign as Lord Featherington and NEVER as Lord Bridgerton. Therefore, his wife would also sign with his title, that is, Featherington. For example, if the wife's name is Elizabeth, then she would be Lady Featherington and would sign as Elizabeth Featherington, and NEVER as Elizabeth Bridgerton or Lady Bridgerton.

Baronet.

The next in the ranking—and not of the nobility—is Baronet. A baronet is addressed as Sir + first name + surname. For example, using another couple from the Bridgerton universe, Sir Phillip Crane. His wife would be called Lady + surname. For example, Lady Crane and not Lady Eloise Crane unless she is the daughter of a duke, marquess, or earl (which is not the case). She would sign with her full name, as Eloise Crane.

His children have no special distinction. However, the title is inheritable. So, continuing to use Sir Phillip as a reference, when he dies, his baronetcy will pass to his eldest son Oliver, who will then be called Sir Oliver.

It's worth mention that although in the series Oliver is NOT Sir Phillip's biological son, he still married Marina before the birth of the twins and acknowledged them both as his own, so the baronetcy title will pass without any issue to Oliver. In the event that he did not acknowledge them as his children or that Sir Phillip and Marina married after the birth of the twins, then the title of Sir Phillip would pass to his next legitimate son, Frederick (son of Sir Phillip and Eloise in the books).

Knight.

A knight is essentially treated the same as a baronet, but with the difference that it is a lifetime title only. His wife will be Lady + surname.

OTHER MATTERS

Dowagers

When a titled lady is widowed she becomes a dowager, but the practice has generally been not to use that title until the heir takes a wife, since there can be confusion about who the true Lady Bridgerton is, for example.

And even if she has a daughter-in-law, in general usage she would still be referred to by the simple title unless there was likely to be confusion. So, if the Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton was at a house party while her daughter-in-law was in London, people would not be constantly referring to her as the Dowager Viscountess.

Female titles in their own right

There are a few, very few, titles that can pass to a daughter if there is no son, as in the Royal Family, for example. In this case, the usage is the same as if they were the wife of a peer of that rank, but their husband gains NO title from the marriage, just as the Duke of Edinburgh was not king.

A Peeress in her Own Right retains her title after marriage, and if her husband's rank is the superior one, she is designated by the two titles jointly, the inferior one last. Or she can say what form she wants to use. (eg The Marchioness of Rothgar is also the Countess of Arradale by right. She chooses to be Lady Rothgar and Arradale in the most formal situations, Lady Rothgar in general, but Lady Arradale in private, especially when attending to her duties as Countess of Arradale. Unusual situations do tend to get complicated.) Her hereditary claim to her title holds good in spite of any marriage, and will be passed on.

Since the husband gains no title from such a marriage, it's possible to have the Countess of Arbuthnot married to Mr. Smith.

Her eldest son will be her heir and take her next lowest title. If she has no son, her eldest daughter will be her heir, but until she becomes the peer she will hold only the title that comes from her birth — eg. Lady Anne — if any, because an eldest daughter is always an heir presumptive. There might still be a boy.

The most common errors observed in novels:

Interchanging courtesy titles like Lady Mary Smith and Lady Smith.

Interchanging peerage titles, as when Michael Downs, Earl of Rosebury is variously known as Lord Rosebury, Lord Downs, and Lord Michael Downs.

Applying titles that don't belong, as when Jane Potts marries Viscount Twistleton and erroneously becomes Lady Jane, a title form that can only come by birth.

Having the widow of just about anyone, but especially a peer, remarry before time has elapsed to be sure she is not bearing a child. Or rather, whose child it is that she bears!

Having the heir presumptive assume the title and powers before the widow has made it clear that she's not going to produce an heir.

Having an adopted son inherit a title. Legal adoption was not possible in England until the twentieth century, and even now an adopted son cannot inherit a title. Even if the son is clearly the father's offspring, if he wasn't born after a legal marriage, he cannot inherit the father's title. However, since they didn't have DNA testing, a child was assumed to be legitimate unless the father denied it from the first. Even if the son turns out to look suspiciously like the vicar, the father cannot deny him later. This, I assume was to avoid the chaos of peers coming up with all sorts of excuses to switch heirs on a whim.

Having a title left in a will, which follows from the above. A title cannot be willed to whomever the peer in question chooses. It goes according to the original letters patent, which almost always say that it will go to the oldest legitimate male in direct descent. The property can be left elsewhere, unless it is entailed, but the title goes by legitimate blood.

Having an heiress (ie a daughter without brothers) inherit a title and convey it to her husband. It could be done — anything could — by special decree of the Crown, but it was not at all normal.

Now, when you've arrived at the title you want to give your character, perform an internet search to see if it exists. You can also check The Peerage or do an advanced search on Google Books. You wouldn't want to give your fictional character a title that was already in use at that time. Additionally, some readers will be knowledgeable about the real nobility and it could disrupt the fictional reality you're trying to create.

If you really like the title but it already exists or existed, you can modify it while still retaining its appeal. For example, if Lord Amesbury exists, you could create Lord Aymesbury or Lord Embury. If your character's family has been in Suffolk for generations, names of places in Suffolk can provide ideas for names.

I hope this helps, although I'm sure it can be subject to debate and improvement.

[chaoticandsleepdeprived]

These are a few of my favorite pills...

NEXT TO NORMAL at Wyndham's Theatre (2024) 📹: @mttztrading, @callmelasagna

[chaoticandsleepdeprived]

It's The Principle Of The Thing, Or: The Danma Takeru Squid Game AU Nobody's Looking For But You're All Getting Anyways

Rating: PG-13

Tags: violence, death mentions, strong language, humor, no squids were harmed in the writing of this fiction

Summary: Danma Takeru ends up winning the Squid Game. But, before he goes home with a substantial sum of money, he has a request.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Blood. Blood on his arms and his shirt and his legs and his hands. Smeared across his left cheek, a slow drip bubbling up from a cut on his forehead and sliding down the length of his nose.

Number 420 stands above the corpse of his opponent, knife in hand. A combination of wickedness and triumph in his smiling teeth, with eyes that squint against the cut of midday sunlight, looking at the camera he knows is broadcasting directly to the room of VIP'S above.

He gives them a thumbs up.

"Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable."

The surly man in a gazelle mask stubs out his cigarette with all the anger of a man who lost $200,000 on a bet; probably because he did just lose $200,000 on a bet, all thanks to the skinny little weirdo on the dusty field below.

"He doesn't even speak Korean," the man shouts angrily. A black-masked someone silently refills the man's whiskey, which immediately gets snatched up and gulped down. "And he owns a hat shop, for Christ's sake! What the fuck kind of hat shop guy wins a five-hundred-person deathmatch?"

"If it makes you feel any better," a woman in a bird mask says, "he's also the owner of a nightclub. Got ties to the yakuza, too."

"And he knows a little bit of the language," another voice chimes in, "he was talking to the guy in front of him about 'Crash Landing on You' during tug-of-war."

"Oh, that was so good—"

"Hey," a man in a zebra masks asks, "I think he's trying to say something."

The group turns their attention to the large screen on the wall, and sure enough, Number 420's mouth is moving. Slowly, as if he's trying very hard to enunciate.

Inho unmutes the video feed.

"Fight," the man says in very careful English, making sure to emphasize the sharp 't' sound at the end, "Squid."

"The fuck he talking about?"

Inho presses the intercom button.

"Seven," he says, and the triangle-masked guard to the bloodied man's right nods, "you speak Japanese, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Please ask Number 420 what he means by 'fight squid.'"

Seven does as he's told—Seven always does what he's told. That's why he's allowed to have a gun (and the occasional extra dessert on his dinner tray.)

Number 420 perks up considerably. He turns to face Seven and, pleasantly surprised, begins talking animatedly at the masked man.

"What's he saying," Inho asks, even as Number 420 continues his small speech. Winners don't usually speak at all after the final game, overcome with grief and exhaustion. It's as refreshing as it is concerning that this one is so...chatty.

"He...says he wants to fight the squid," Seven recounts, "the...the squid from the squid game."

Murmurs swell from the VIP's. Inho hesitates, then presses the intercom button again.

"That can't be all," Inho replies, trying not to sound as confused as he feels.

"I think he's trying to convince us," Seven explains, "says that it would be poetic. And fun. And cool. And, well, he keeps giving me different adjectives, but they're all positive."

Inho is honestly stumped. Does this man seriously think that there's an actual squid? And what's more, even if there was a squid...why would he want to fight it? What could that possibly accomplish?

"Is there anything else," Inho asks, hoping that Seven will give him something more reasonable to consider.

"He," Seven says after a moment of hesitation, "He...told me that I have a sexy voice."

Regardless of how true that statement may be, Inho needs to act quickly—the VIP's are growing rowdier by the second, laughter turning to conversation turning to half-drunken shouting.

"Tell him," Inho says, voice raised to be heard over the din, "that we will discuss the next steps shortly. Until then, follow the usual protocol."

"Yes, sir," Seven says, and he and his partner begin to escort the strange man from the arena.

"I'd watch him fight a squid," Bird-Woman says as she stirs the olive around her martini, "It'd be fun."

"With any luck, it'd kill the bastard," Gazelle grumbles, "I'd pay good money to watch him get torn apart."

"I don't know," Zebra-Mask hums, "I think he could win. 420's clever."

"Or just really lucky. Either way," Bird-Woman says, "I wouldn't mind seeing a man like that in a wetsuit. Especially when he's got such a cute butt..."

There are many benefits to wearing a full-face mask, but for Inho, the most useful feature is that he can make any unpleasant face he wants and nobody else can see it—in this case, it's an exaggerated roll of his eyes and a pursed-lip frown.

The VIP's are not to be swayed—someone has ordered a round of tequila shots, and it's only fueling their desire to see an aquatic showdown.

"How difficult would it be to get a squid, really?"

"We're surrounded by ocean. Bet you could find a hundred of 'em real easy."

"My buddy owns that aquarium on Jeju, got some huge motherfuckers swimmin' around in there. He could lend us one."

"But what if he kills the squid?"

"There's no way that little freak can win a fight against a squid."

Inho clenches his fists at his sides. This is a delicate situation, to be sure. The last thing he needs is a room full of very powerful people whining—God, the way these over-rich assholes moan over everything is beyond insufferable. Plus, their money keeps the game going. It would be bad for business if he wasn't able to satisfy their wishes...no matter how idiotic those wishes may be.

"An extra five million would cover it," Zebra-Mask adds, "two million for the squid. A five-hundred-grand life insurance policy. And the rest can go to our gracious hosts for our care and keeping."

"What if he wins," Bird-Woman asks, examining the sharp points of her purple-lacquered fingernails, "Surely we can give him something."

"He gets the five-hundred-grand set aside in the event of the squid's death," Zebra-Mask pauses a moment, "Although, from what I can gather, he'd probay do it for free."

"Because he's a fucking dumbass," Gazelle mumbles. He crosses his arms over his chest and turns to address Inho, "Whaddya say? We gonna make this happen?"

All eyes are on Inho. Even from behind bejeweled masks, he can feel the needle-cut sharp of each expectant gaze. There is no choice here; only the illusion, which makes everything much worse.

"We," Inho finally says, resigning himself to his fate, "shall make the necessary arrangements."

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Money talks.

But what does money say?

Today, money has opened its papery mouth and decreed, "I want the largest squid you have, and I want it flown to a remote island off the coast of South Korea so a man with too-long hair and an unbelievably loose grip on reality can fight it to the death."

It's only cost $300,000 to get Lola, a pink-red Humboldt squid whose tempermant can be described as 'ornery at best and 'an absolute fucking nightmare' at worst, settled into the indoor pool arena in the basement. It's not particularly large, but Lola seems to appreciate it anyways, darting her way about the enclosure with graceful flicks of her tentacles.

A beautiful thing to behold, to be sure. The entire wall of the viewing gallery is made of glass, giving the VIP's the perfect view of the action.

"Those things are brutal," Zebra-Mask says, accepting a dainty cup of tea from a gilded tray, "Absolutely hate humans. 420's got quite the fight ahead of him."

"Good," snaps Gazelle, "I hope it tears that bitch apart."

Inho eyes the coffee cart to his left jealously—what he wouldn't give for an extra-large mug of French roast, with some of the hazelnut cream that French billionaire gifted him last January.

That, or a an entire bottle of red wine, all to himself. With a straw. And not a single VIP in sight.

"Being out of bed before nine is both a crime and a sin," Bird-Woman muses, putting her slippered feet onto the human ottoman in front of her, "but I think this one's worth it."

"Spare me your weird, misplaced lust," Gazelle taunts, "Your boyfriend's not gonna be so pretty after that huge fuckin' beast tears him to shreds!"

"Prettier than you, dearest," Bird-Woman quips. She nods towards Inho. "Any chance I could get his number after the fight? Assuming he lives, of course."

"That's something I'll have to discuss with 420," Inho concludes. Unfortunately, he's been asked this question before. It very rarely ends well.

"Speak of the devil," Zebra-Mask says, "here he comes."

The video feed shows Number 420 enter the arena flanked by four guards, his flippered feet slapping loudly on the tile as he makes his way to the edge of the pool.

Procuring a wetsuit had been easy enough, as was stitching white patch with his identification number on the chest. Instead of the usual mouthpiece oxygen system, he had been outfitted with a bubble-shaped diving helmet that had a microphone built in—420 had been told it was to allow for verbal communication, but really, it was so the VIP's could hear his screams of pain when the beast inevitable tore his limbs from his body. Inho never did get much joy out of that part, but his benefactors insisted.

"Well, hello handsome," Bird-Woman calls out, "Oh, I do hope she keeps him mostly intact. Would be a shame to tear such a lovely specimen apart..."

"Get his ass," Gazelle yells, pointing at the glass. He's still drunk from the night before, most likely, as evidenced by the slosh of bourbon that splashes over the rim of his glass.

"We're ready when you are, sir."

Seven stands to 420's immediate left; Inho plans on thanking him personally for being both a translator and for waking up three hours early to give their player a crash-course on diving.

"You may proceed."

Cheers erupt from the VIP's when 420 jumps into the water. Honestly, Inho doesn't much care who wins or loses the match—the sooner these people (and the squid) are out of his hair, the better.

It would seem that Lola is also displeased with her company. She had retreated to the far end of the pool when he first breached the water—a fear response, no doubt—but now seems rather annoyed to know that someone has invaded her new home.

Inho finds her terribly relatable.

"Alright, let's fuckin' go," Gazelle slurs, leaning forward in his seat to get a better view of the curious creature stalking closer to the diver.

When Lola is close enough to reach out her longest arm and touch 420, he begins speaking. Conversationally, jovially, as if meeting an old friend.

"Seven," Inho says, "would you be so kind?"

"Certainly, sir," Seven answers—although the man is a safe distance from the pool, he still has a view of the goings-on via a television monitor mounted on the wall, "He's introducing himself to the squid. He told it to call him Takeru. Says it's a pleasure to meet him and...well, he just asked the squid for its name."

"How charming," Bird-Woman exclaims, "I had no idea he was such a gentleman!"

"Was he being a gentleman when he killed four people in Freeze Tag a few days ago?"

"Hush," Bird-Woman snaps, "that doesn't count. Won't you tell him the squids name? Surely it won't hurt anything..."

"Tell 420," Inho says into the intercom, "that her name is Lola."

Seven translates, and 420's face lights up behind the bubble-shaped mask. Apparently, he finds this news pleasing—for what reason, Inho can't be sure, but the VIP's seem to be enjoying themselves. At the end of the day, that's all that matters.

420 repeats her name slowly, let's it roll off his tongue—Lo-la—and then claps his hands together.

...Well, being underwater hinders the whole "clapping" thing. More accurately, he presses his gloved palms together. But the water does not stop him from launching himself into a rapid-fire set of verbalizations.

"He's..." Seven says, "Uh, how...how much detail would you like?"

A voice from the back shouts 'everything!' The rest of the VIP's seem to agree, excitedly calling out their own desires to be part of the conversation.

"As much as possible," Inho responds, although he very much wishes he could say otherwise.

Seven sighs.

"He's...complimenting the squid. 'A beautiful name for a beautiful creature,' to be precise."

"The fuck is this 'The Shape of Water' bullshit," Gazelle demands, "I came to see this clown get his ass handed to him!"

"It is rather curious," Zebra-Mask ponders, "Her breed is known for being extremely hostile. I wonder why she hasn't attacked yet?"

Inho has been wondering the same thing. Lola's breakfast had been delayed until after the fight in an attempt to provoke her—plus, she might even eat 420, if she was hungry enough. The VIP's would love that.

But, as of right now, she's not doing much of anything; simply floating in front of this strange man, round eyes blinking every once in a while. It's like she doesn't know what to do with him.

"He also asked," Seven continues, "if she...knows the song."

"Which song?"

As if 420 was waiting for Inho to ask, he starts singing. Well, sort of. It's more of a lyrical recounting, without words, to a vaguely familiar tune.

...Dah-dadah-dun-dah-dah-dadah- dahdun...

"Motherfucker," Gazelle exclaims, "I didn't know this guy was a fan of The Kinks!"

"The what?"

"The song," Gazelle says, waving his glass in a non-commital gesture, "it's 'Lola' by The Kinks! A goddamn classic..."

"Careful," Bird-Woman warns playfully, "Sounds like you're starting to like him..."

"Am not," Gazelle insists, "I'm just saying the man's got taste!"

Inho can't be bothered to pat attention to his guests' squabbles; not when Lola has decided to finally react with more than a blink.

Her left tentacle ribbons upwards towards the surface, then wiggles back down to her side. Then, she does the same with the right.

"What's it doin'?"

Lola sucks water in to the holes of her mantle, then pushes it back out to propel herself from side to side. Paired with the tentacle movements, it almost looks like...

"Oh my God, she's dancing!"

Inho feels a headache brewing. He had made sure to hook up 420's mic to underwater speakers, thinking his screams would incite the squid to further violence. How was he supposed to know that Lola had an affinity for 70's English rock?

"Alright, that fish fuckin' rules."

"Actually, she's a cephalopod—"

"I will 'cephel' your 'pod' if you don't shut the fuck up!"

Inho is shocked. Shocked and confused and...well, okay, it's a little bit charming, watching this strange creature shimmy along with the tune. Especially when 420 joins in, mirroring her movements with his arms.

"Sir," Seven says, "Her handler is suggesting we introduce food to the enclosure. She may be provoked to attack 420 if she feels he's competing with her for resources..."

"Very well," Inho concedes. It sounds reasonable enough, and the sooner she attacks, the sooner the fight will end and everyone can go home. Including Inho.

An array of prepared fish are dumped into the pool—Lola's flesh flashes from red to white and back again in delight as she darts up to begin her feast. Apparently, Lola was rather famished, because she devours fish after fish with ravenous relish.

But, then, she looks back at 420, and her coloring turns to a deep, dark red.

She propels herself down to his level. Even though she can't make facial expressions in the way that a human can, Inho imagines she's furrowing her brow. Finally, it seems as though she's going to attack.

With a great flourish of her right tentacle, Lola reels back as if to deliver a mighty blow...

...And pushes a fish towards 420.

"Oh, look, she's sharing with him," Bird-Woman gushes, bringing her hands up to press against the sides of her face, "isn't that just adorable?"

"How fascinating," Zebra mask says, "I wonder if she's imprinted on him somehow? Or, perhaps she thinks he's defenseless and her material instincts are kicking in?"

420 reaches down and picks up the silvery fish carcass and examines it, as if he had just been given a great and extravagant gift. He bows towards her and gives his sincere thanks.

"420 is thanking her," Seven recounts, "He's saying that it's very kind of her to—"

"Seven," Inho interrupts, not caring if he's being rude, "tell 420 to attack the squid."

Seven hesitates.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, sir?"

"We're running out of options," Inho says, speaking lowly so the VIP's don't hear, "Tell him he won't get the money unless he does."

That should do it. That should get something started, something less cutesy and heartwarming than a man and a squid having a dinner date at the bottom of a pool.

Seven gives 420 his new ultimatum—Inho wouldn't admit it, but he rather enjoys the way something akin to displeasure flashes across 420's eyes. As the moments pass, the man seems to become more irate.

Good. That's good.

420 says something to Seven. Seven says something back. Like a ping-pong match, they smack quick sentences back and forth between each other at a dizzying pace; Seven is to be commended upon his proficiency in the language, to be sure. Even the VIP's have started to pick up on their conversation, pausing their idle chatter to see if Seven and 420 are going to start arguing.

"Sir, I—"

Seven sounds troubled. Like he has bad news. Inho does not want to hear bad news.

"Is there a problem?"

"It would seem that 420...well, he's..." Seven gulps nervously, "He refuses to fight the squid, sir."

The crowd gasps. A few confused patrons shout things like 'why' and 'fuck' and as much as Inho echoes these sentiments, he chooses to remain calm.

Relatively calm, anyways.

"He what," Inho seethes, teeth clenching behind his mask as rage boils through his veins, "Perhaps I have not made myself clear. Unless he starts fighting the squid right this second, the money is as good as gone—"

"He understands that," Seven says, "he says that all the money in the world couldn't convince him to harm such a beautiful creature. He says that Lola and he have a...well, they've bonded."

"He's got a heart of gold," Bird-Woman exclaims.

"And balls of fuckin' steel," Gazelle adds, "I still hate that slimy fuck, but I respect his decision."

Well, great.

Inho takes a moment to consider his options. They could just shoot the bastard. Maybe Lola would feel more hostile if she got a taste of blood. Or, she could get very, very angry and male sending her back to her home aquarium even more difficult.

The VIP's seem to be in favor of his decision. When Lola leans in and allows 420 to pet her head, the group dissolves into a chorus of aww's.

"Pull him out."

Inho has had enough. Enough of this squid, enough of these VIP's, enough of the games—and above all else, he has had enough of player 420.

"Sir?"

"I said," Inho repeats, "Pull. Him. Out."

Inho turns to address the VIP's.

"I apologize for the inconvenience," he says, "but it appears that our squid is...not in fighting shape. I thank you all for your patience, and hope you will forgive us for such an anti-climactic finale to this round of games."

The VIP's, to their credit, take the news surprisingly well. Even Gazelle, who had been so keen on watching 420's watery demise, simply scoffed at the proclamation and downed another shot of bourbon. Zebra-Mask and Bird-Woman were very pleased that neither party was to be harmed, and not-so-subtly dropped a hint or two about wanting to stay in touch—with the squid and the man, respectively.

Inho watched them fish 420 from the tank. Lola had shifted to a sallow white-gray and retreated to the corner to sulk at the loss of her new playmate. He almost felt bad for her...but then he remembered everything that happened over the past half-hour, and decided that she deserved to suffer a little for the inconvenience she'd caused.

And then, there's 420.

Helmet removed, he seems oh-so-pleased with himself, flashing a wide smile to the camera and winking at the viewers he knows are cheering for his victory.

Inho wants to tear out his throat.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

It's nighttime.

The lights of Seoul flash through the tinted windows of a black limousine as it zips its way through the city, streets nearly deserted at such a late hour.

"Tell 420," Inho says, gripping his flute of champagne just a bit too tightly, "that he will be given one million US dollars...on the condition that he never try to contact our organization again."

Player 420 nods along as his translator—a very patient Seven, who had graciously agreed to accompany them on their journey—puts forth the terms of his release. 420 smirks and takes a gulp of champagne before responding.

"He thanks you for your generosity," Seven explains, "Although he's curious as to why you don't want to remain friends. He was under the impression that the two of you got along...swimmingly."

Inho rolls his eyes at the pun.

"You may tell 420 that any attempt to uncover the identities of anyone involved in the game will result in immediate termination," Inho says sternly, "We will be keeping an eye on him."

420 laughs. He finishes the rest of his glass and immediately snatches up the champagne bottle. He makes eye contact with Inho as he drinks deeply from it.

"He wants to know," Seven says, after 420 nudges him and says something, "if that means he can't visit Lola the squid."

The car stops. 420 looks at Inho, the fire of challenge in his eyes. The door to the limousine opens behind him.

"Get the fuck out of my car," Inho says coolly, and smiles in relief as Player 420 is dragged out into the street.

With any luck, they'll never see each other again.

[chaoticandsleepdeprived]

wrapped 24’

🪐Minutes: 20,851 ( top 18% worldwide )

🕯️Biggest listening day: January 13 with 673 minutes

🪐Played 368 songs

🕯️Top song was the fruits by Paris Paloma, streamed 668 times ( top 0.001% )

🪐Top songs

🍂 the fruits

🍂 Aftershocks

🍂 I’m alive

🍂 Wylan

🍂 Who’s afraid of little old me

🕯️My phases

🫧 January; Theatrical west end broadway

🫧 June; Pumpkin spice Strut Pop

🫧 October; Royalcore Fantasy Dark Academia

🪐Top artist was paris paloma

🍂Listened 4842 minutes and was top 0.05%

🕯️Listened to 316 artists

🪐Top artists

🫧 paris paloma

🫧 Aaron Tveit

🫧 Taylor Swift

🫧 Florence +the Machine

🫧 Joseph Trapanese

[chaoticandsleepdeprived]

i listened to next to normal so much in the beginning of the year that aftershocks and I’m alive was in my top 5. I love next to normal tho. ( and aaron tveit became my second most listened artist)

anyone else have that moment when they look at their Spotify Wrapped and go "why is my music taste this way and not super cool looking?"

just me?

oh okay

[chaoticandsleepdeprived]

If you have Spotify reblog this and tag what your number one song on your “on repeat” playlist is.

[chaoticandsleepdeprived]

I think this was my favorite of my listening cores that I got

[chaoticandsleepdeprived]

Agatha All Along "Agatha, that boy isn't yours."

Agatha & Billy

[chaoticandsleepdeprived]

All these blank and tranquil years, seems they've dried up all my tears.

Carolyn Maitland as Diana Goodman - Next to Normal (2024)

📸 @callmelasagna

[chaoticandsleepdeprived]

It's just you and me. We'll live, you'll see.

Eleanor Worthington Cox as Natalie - Next to Normal