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Did you hear!? The clockwork city dlc will let us actually talk to sotha sil!!???!!????!!?????!!&828£;!2£8;62)2?@20;884£2!&3 and meat him!???????!!!???!!!!!!

he’s ready

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modern pudding?

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SCREAMING

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Ivulhe's eyes flickered open. Everything felt heavy, her vision was spinning. Was she in the infirmary? The last thing she could remember was an Orcish bandit storming her, a sharp pain in her head, then... nothing. "Easy there." A blur of red robes rushed to her side. "Don't get up all at once." She smiled. Neesha. A comforting face. She was wearing an apron over her uniform and- was that... blood? "It's late. I opted to stay overnight with you. You've suffered heavy head trauma and a multitude of severe wounds." Ivulhe could slowly feel the pain setting in as her delerium faded. It was like every bone in her body had been broken. Neesha moved to behind the nurses station, rinsing her hands in a bucket of water. Despite her blurred vision, Ivulhe could swear the water was running red. But of course, the infirmary was no sanitary job. She had probably just finished off with someone else from the raid and was just- "You and I are the only ones still at the Abbey at this hour. You've been out cold for several days." Ivulhe felt her eyes widen. Then how- she attempted to rise up from her cot only to find as physically could not move. Was she... tied down? Neesha strode over to her side, a smile present on her face. "Ah, so you've realized." Ivulhe blinked, heart thundering in her chest. "Sister, I really don't need restraints, I promise I won't be too rash while I heal, I-" The smile Neesha gave was the same one as usual, but her eyes. Dear Ayem, her eyes... "Oh Ivulhe. Do you really think that's why you're strapped down like that?" Her lips parted, showing unnervingly white teeth. "Don't make me fucking laugh." Ivulhe let out a shuddering breath. This was a dream. This had to be a bad dream. This thing wasn't Neesha. "You've been terribly injured, Ivulhe. In a coma like state for days. They won't notice if I off you here and now. And the last patient who I had this privilege with was months ago. I'm going rusty." "That recruit..." Ivulhe blinked, looking up at the priestess. "What manner of lesser Daedra are you? Who are you?" Neesha took a seat by the indoor garden, raising her hand to her chin and grinning. "Who am I? Oh sister, I know the sedative I've been administering isn't that strong to impair your vision fully. It's me." She pressed a palm to her chest. "Neesha. Same as ever." "The Neesha I know wouldn't ever do this!" A laugh, starting out silent, but growing louder, more wild. "Oh this is rich! Twelve different Ordinators since I first got this title and each of you react the same way! Tell me, little Ordinator, what do you know of me?" Ivulhe's voice quivered. "The Neesha I know, the real Neesha... she's a woman of faith. Kindly, caring... she crossed through half of Tamriel to join the priesthood as she's never harmed a fly. This... this can't be real." "Oh my dear sweet sister. Think which story sounds more improbable. After all..." Neesha picked up a scalpel from a tray, twirling it between her fingers. "What Hlaalu is devoid of the ability to lie?" A shaky laugh issued from Neesha's throat as she continued. "What, you honestly believed I made it through Cyrodiil, through a fucking warzone, by myself, without killing a single man? Oh, I have blood on my hands sister. So much fucking blood." "Why'd you do it? Why'd you lie to us like this?" Neesha set down the scalpel. "You know I've come to observe it's not exactly bad to be a liar in Morrowind, is it? Mephala's influence still remains heavy on us as a culture. No, I lie for the same reason any good Dunmer does. Power. No one sees me as a threat, so I make my way along as I please." "But... your friends... your daughter..." "Friends are disposable pawns, my dear sister, just as you are. As for my... daughter... that was an unfortunate turn of events." Neesha paused. "You never met my husband, did you? Nasty old man. I was the same age as his grandson. But oh he fell for a pretty face and a charming act, and three, his gold! I couldn't have cared less when the old fuck died. His rotted corpse was more an inconvenience than a tragedy. The child was... unexpected, but no one suspects a mother. Not even she knows what mama's been planning." Ivulhe paused, looking wide eyed at Neesha as she approached the cot. "What are you planning?" "Do you ever wonder, dear sister, why my family keeps so far from the three?" Neesha's eyes... there was something seriously wrong... "The house of troubles..." A spell was forming at the priestesses fingertips. "Is closer than you could ever know."

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How old were you when One Piece began on July 19, 1997?

Answer it with tag

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Small hands traced the outline of the cardboard box, taped up, edges tearing and weathering with age. Taarie's fingers moved to stick a drooping label back on. "Family photos." It read. "Dad!" Taarie yelled across the room. "Bring the boxcutter!" Sure enough, Valonil soon found himself at his daughters side, inspecting the large box for himself. "Where did you find this?" "In the corner by the old VHS tapes. A whole box full of family photos?" Valonil chuckled lightly to himself. "Your mother never was one to document things. She lived awaiting the future. Never thought to capture a moment so she could look back on her past." The older elf held the box in place and switched open the small blade, bringing the box cutter to the tape and slicing it open. "Luckily enough, your father here was always quite the amateur photographer. Even if I did it more as a spontaneous idea rather than a captured memory." Valonil peeled back the flaps of the box and reached inside, pulling out a small Tupperware container full of little plastic tubes. He took one between his thumb and index finger, smiling at it. "What even is that?" "It's a roll of film. You'd go to the grocery or someplace to get them developed. For whatever reason I guess we didn't end up sending them all in. When you were growing up there were a few times we were tighter on money than usual." He reached further into the box only to find stacks upon stacks of glossy old photos, some stuck together from the years pressed into a pile. Valonil laid them out into the carpet for his daughter to see. Taarie picked one up carefully, as if she was handling a precious gem. "Is that you and mom?" She handed it to Valonil, who smiled nostalgically. "Our wedding dance, yes. She was so beautiful, your mother. This one must have been taken by your grandfather." He let out a light laugh. "That man practically had to push me onto the stage to share a first dance with her. I'm not surprised he took a picture. I was stubborn to say the least. Getting me up there was an accomplishment worthy of commemorating." "What was she like?" "The most beautiful creature to ever live. Her smile alone was proof enough to me that the world was good." Valonil became lost in memories, barely noticing as Taarie gently picked up yet another photograph. She attempted to stifle her laughter. "Is that me?" Sure enough there on the polished photo paper was a familiar green eyed little girl with the faintest points to her ears and rosy chubby cheeks, covered head to toe in toilet paper. "You had a talent for getting into things you shouldn't have as a baby. There was a time you locked yourself in the fridge. Unsurprisingly, that was one of the days your friend Geralt was supposed to be watching you." "What about this one?" Taarie handed her father a third photograph, this time her mother facing away from the camera, still in her hospital gown and holding her newborn daughter close. Valonil bit his lip and gave a weak smile. "She loved you more than anything. The day we brought you home was the best day of both of our lives. She didn't leave your side even once. Neither of us did. We wanted to give you all that we could and more." Taarie thumbed through a stack of pictures, giggling as she had to pry apart two that were stuck together at the backs. Her smile grew as she saw a brilliant photo of her mother, dressed in a brilliant glowing red sundress and standing on a pier overlooking the ocean. The light seemed to envelop her brown skin in a golden halo, and her golden eyes showed a soft, loving look to the holder of the camera. "She was so pretty." Valonil laughed. "Just like you, riel." He pressed a golden finger to his daughter's nose with a smile. He watched her pout and turn back to the photographs with heavy intensity, before coming to the end with a confused look. "Dad?" Valonil tilted his head, plantinum blonde strands spilling over his shoulder and hanging limply by his side. "Hm?" He slid himself across on the carpet to get a look at the photo in the girl's hands before his face went somber and blank. A single photo, not befitting the rest, far older. The quality was typical of the time, colors a little less vivid and the image grainier, but it was still clear. A young boy with platinum hair cut at his shoulders, slicked back at the forehead, sat in a well tailored blue suit with an emotionless stare towards the camera. Behind him stood two older Altmeri ladies with fiery red hair and white aprons over their dresses, both with hands on the boy's shoulders. Taarie stared fascinated at the image "Is this you, dad?" A gulp, and a simple nod. Green met green as Taarie shifted her eyes towards her father. "Why don't grandmother and grandfather ever show up in the pictures? Not even here. Avus does in the ones on the walls with mom and his houseboat, so why-" Valonil gave a weak smile at his daughter and made a move to take the old photograph, which she let slide out of her hands. "They've never come to visit us, dad. Not since I can remember." Valonil said nothing as he gathered up the photographs, stacking them into a neat pile and tapping them against the floor to keep them aligned. Taarie's small hands laid over his as he moved to place them back into the box. "...What were they like?" With one look back at the grainy photograph at the top of the paper, Valonil shook his head and closed the cardboard box, standing up and taking Taarie's hand. "How about some lunch? PB&J or grilled cheese?" Taarie looked disappointed as she shrugged in response. Valonil motioned for her to follow him upstairs. As he eyed the gold wedding band on his finger he closed his eyes. There were certain memories, certain things better gone undocumented. Valonil secretly prayed she would never think to ask again.

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