#[ but want the information that is in them for rp sake. that's why i offer stuff like this. ]

[iniziare]

Heads-up that I'm still mostly awol on Discord, so please excuse my radio silence to many of you over there a little longer. But a little interest check: if I made a post with some free .PDFs (I can also include .EPUB, 'cause I know some prefer it) downloads for numerous of the DA books/comics, with the intention of having a full list, and kept it updated— would that be of interest?

[revvethasmythh]

i really want that Ashton and Laudna convo to happen. Tal keeps alluding to it being something that will... but I don't get why there was no attempt made in the past three episodes. A lot of the travel days? Skipped just for the sake of expedition.

So I really, REALLY hope it's happening next week, because it would suck horribly if all that waiting amounted to nothing if plot and/or tragedy were to strike again.

Though I AM glad that Fearne checked in on her at least. So there is that.

Here's the thing: I really don't personally care if they decide not to engage in RP during travel days like that. Would I love to watch RP during those times? Yes. Does what I, specifically, want matter at all, really? No, because it's not my game. So on one level, I'm reticent to say anything on that topic, but on another Bells Hells have proven thus far to be a party that may not particularly like to get into the deep end of each other's bullshit, at least not with words. It seems classic Hells to go on an entire deranged roadtrip and astral project themselves into Laudna's headspace to murder Delilah and get Laudna back and then to, like, not bring it up again. They do care, they just don't always feel the need (or feel comfortable) poking a bruise with someone that maybe they don't want poked (they haven't asked! they're assuming! they have major communication issues in this party!). They're "polite" that way in a way that the Nein, for instance, simply were not. I mean, think of the other moments of serious RP of personal traumas (Laudna opening up to Orym, Orym opening up to Chetney, etc.). Those were mostly instances where the information was offered up. The Hells don't really ask after the traumatic stuff unless it's actively trying to kill them. They tend to wait until someone offers up the topic before diving in.

Now, if we're talking about Ashton and Laudna's eventual conversation specifically, I think there's a lot of character stuff going on there. Ashton and their very low charisma score tend to be quite awkward when putting themself in positions of vulnerability. We can see that when they asked Annaline for hammer lessons (and he had to muster himself up to ask Annaline right then, because the group was going to be gone soon so there was a deadline on it). This conversation with Laudna, I would presume, is unlikely to be near as casual as the time Ashton approached her after she whiffed four Eldritch Blasts in a row and felt useless. Considering what Taliesin has said on 4sd, and by avoiding answering the question about how Laudna's death has affected Ashton, my presumption is that this conversation will not just be about asking her how she's feeling after everything, but will include some of how Ashton has been affected by it, too. Character-wise, I think it would make complete sense for Ashton to put that conversation off until he could muster himself up to do it. At the table, though, perhaps Taliesin just hasn't felt like the right moment for that talk has come yet. And that is completely up to his discretion and while I sincerely hope to see that conversation happen before holiday break, because it would be like a little holiday present to me (and I do love presents), that doesn't mean I expect it to happen or that I would necessarily be upset if it didn't. It's the cherry on top, not the sundae, you know?

[doctor-jon-crane]

written for @jovialjuggernaut-draws and their recent art

now i’ve never written nygma before except in rp so you can be brutal if need be

i’ve also never written riddlebat but there’s a first for everything i guess

I can only speak so slow, idiots. [Riddlebat]

Edward Nygma had met a lot of stupid people. Living in Gotham it was almost an inevitability. He swore the citizens got stupider by the day, although it could be the amount of lead and toxins in the water causing their braincells to flee to Metropolis. Last he checked online there was a Joker fan club with almost an alarming amount of people in it. The henchmen seemed to get stupider too, although that was most likely caused by the amount of brain damage caused by Bruce connecting his fist to their skull. The villains seemed to manage avoiding whatever was creating the lack of intellect in the city, but that wasn't saying much. For God's sake, there was someone who's theme was based around condiments, and Valentin doing whatever he did in that disgusting basement of his. Truly, there was no intelligence in Gotham, and every day he saw examples of people being morons.

This, however, was the stupidest thing he had seen to date.

Someone had dared to capture him. He would have loved to learn who to pay them a visit when Bruce wasn't looking later, but it seemed these morons barely knew what to call themselves either. They were even doing the cliché tactic of keeping one light pointed in his face so he couldn't see, all while attempting to deepen their voices in a rather pathetic display.

"Tell us what we want to know!"

Edward rolled his eyes for what felt like the 100th time this night, although one throbbed from the forming black eye. They had done a number on him, but it was nothing worse than what he used to get. If anything it was like they were going easy on him, although they probably thought they had him scared shitless.

"And I keep telling you morons I don't even know what you want!"

They kept demanding information on Batman but they wouldn't even go into specifics. They just kept growling 'tell us about Batman' like they were wild animals with no other way to communicate.

"What do you want to know about him, pray tell? His identity, what gadgets he stores, the size of his dick?"

"Yes! Wait, no, I mean - " He couldn't see much past the light but they were all looking at each other slightly confused. "Just tell us about the Bat!"

He was going to write Crane a strongly worded letter about poisoning the water supply again, this was getting too much to bare.

"Oh, it's like shouting into space. Let me explain this to you all in a way your small, near nonexistent brains can comprehend. I don't know what you want to know about the Batman, and even if you did manage to crack open a dictionary and find more words than the select few you seem capable of speaking tonight, I would not tell you. Not because I don't want to, because at this point I would happily tell you anything you want to know so I didn't have to deal with your painful stupidity, but because I simply don't think you would understand. You brainless monkeys probably don't even understand half of what I'm saying and I'm trying to use the smallest words available to drill through your thick skulls."

"Shut up!" The leader of the group stepped forward and hit him smack across the cheek, head turning from the force as he winced, blinking in pain, face flushed from the blood rushing upwards.

"Well, am I supposed to shut up or am I supposed to tell you Batman fun facts?"

The man grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him up off the ground, chair following along with as the two entered a glaring match. "You talk way too fucking much."

"Isn't that what you wanted, you moron?"

The oversized idiot let out a snarl of rage, prepared to do something to surely show how much he needed to compensate for, before the familiar sound of shattering glass caught the attention of all involved. The leader clearly couldn't focus on two things at once, dropping Edward back on the ground as he turned and watched a bat-shaped bastard fly though the window. He would have loved to watch what would happen next, but unfortunately his chair didn't prefer being dropped and tipped over, taking the genius with it.

He sighed, his everything hurting as he heard the familiar sounds of fighting and Batman shattering bones. That sound used to be so exhilarating, because then he knew his match had finally arrived. Now it was simply annoying because he just wanted to be let out of this damn chair.

The fight died out quickly to no one's surprise, and the chair was being righted with careful grace, Edward following familiar hands as they cut the ropes with a batarang.

"Sorry I couldn't be here sooner. I didn't realize you were gone until after I finished clearing out the warehouse by the docks."

Edward resisted the urge to roll his eye simply because it hurt to do so, standing on his own despite Bruce's offering. "Just take me home. I need extra strength everything to deal with the headache these jackasses have given me."

Bruce simply raised an eyebrow at him, and Edward was very tempted to hit him, if he knew Bruce wouldn't catch his hand. "Get a smarter fan club next time."

Bruce just smiled that awful, annoying smile that Edward swore up and down he hated, at least in the moment, and reached out to grip his forearm reassuringly. "I'm glad you're okay, Eddie."

Edward scoffed, but he didn't move to push the oversized bat off. "Yes, yes, you can pamper me and apologize for you negligence when we get home. For now I just want a very fast ride in your car."

He paused, frowning. "And some paper and pens."

"Why?"

"I have a letter to write to a luddite who still doesn't own a phone in this day and age about putting too many chemicals in the watering hole of Gotham."

[eligos-venator]

1. What is your favorite trope to rp?

6. Name 3 things you love most about your muse/muses.

13. Is there one trope you can’t stand?

14. What is your opinion on writing smut?

16. Do you prefer long or short replies and why?

22. Are there any red roleplay flags for you that make you back off immediately?

This one will be a bit long, so for convenience's sake for scrolling, I'm putting this all under a cut!

1. What is your favorite trope to rp?

I mentioned Fridge Horror prior, so next up on the list would be what Eligos effectively is when hired by the vast majority of people, which is the Token Evil Teammate. He's the opposition to many plans, and is only in it for the money, down to where threats of pay loss are what keeps him in line, often enough. It's enjoyable to write this trope because he offers counterpoints to plans rather than blindly playing along, and it gets gears turning and questions asked that might not be, because he isn't nearly as invested as other characters who might rush headlong into a plan without full consideration of possibilities.

6. Name 3 things you love most about your muse/muses.

Doing Eligos for this one!

• Eligos turns his failures into profit through malicious creativity and adapting on the fly. Me, I'm a creature of habit and if given the option, I pick the rut rather than jumping out of it, often enough. So Eligos not even acknowledging the box beyond disrespecting it for the sake of has been an interesting challenge to write out, as he takes something that might be considered a loss otherwise and makes it profitable for himself.

• Limited technology meets creativity is always fun to see play out for me. Eligos might have a vast sum of knowledge, but he prefers things that have been tested and proven, which means he doesn't field new equipment often if at all. If something's fielded, it's taken a few IRL months of him stress testing it and multiple roll checks to see if he's keeping it or if it met his standards before he'd even consider deploying with it. Because of this, his arsenal is far smaller than people might expect, even when in armor. Instead, he makes up for the limited arsenal with malicious creativity in application, which is always fun for me to try to figure out with how he can change his plans on the fly based on new information he's given.

• He'll work for anyone and can get along with anyone. Rather simple, but Eligos's passive nature when not on the clock and his dislike of violence, viewing it as a tool to get what he wants when working, ensures that he can get along with most people, I've found. He may not agree with them on everything or anything, but can still find a way to sit down and chat at the least. This is enjoyable to me because I love meeting the characters of others, and prior characters all had a pain point that might make them react extremely harshly, making it so that not all characters could interact with. Eligos lacks that pain point, that sticking part in his personality where he just can't compromise in some fashion at least long enough to indulge his curiosity. And that means he can engage any character far easier than my prior characters were able to.

13. Is there one trope you can’t stand?

I've spoken of 'love will fix all' as a disliked trope in depth before, so we'll put that one aside for today. One of the things I dislike is the expectation of every battle to be won when facing a villain character, which some heroic character players have. That makes for bland, boring story, in my mind. I'm not expecting Eligos to win every fight. He's failed more often than he has succeeded, but that's the fun part: turning his failures into successes. But if every fight/encounter ends with failure, or every fight ends in success, it becomes boring and monotonous, as in failure we learn and so too can characters learn and grow, and in success they can be emboldened. But if there's no balance, it all ends up feeling stale to write out, and rather bland.

14. What is your opinion on writing smut?

It can be good fun to write with people, and can give those small insights that characters might not ever show when their guard is up as much as it normally might be. I have no issues with writing it myself and enjoy doing so when it does occur, but also get it isn't everyone's cup of tea. If someone doesn't write it or enjoy it? Don't push them to do so. Conversely, just because one might not enjoy writing it or like it doesn't give a blank check to be discourteous to those that do enjoy it.

16. Do you prefer long or short replies and why?

I've answered here! I really just prefer having enough information to work with, and having characters engage in some way. Length doesn't matter to me as much as engagement.

22. Are there any red roleplay flags for you that make you back off immediately?

• Any indication that the player is playing a heroic character to 'win' fights against villains rather than actually engaging will result in me refusing to roleplay. I'm here to write and have fun, not be a tally number for number of characters someone's beaten to stroke their in-character ego.

• Any indication of heavy metagaming or power gaming being involved. If someone straight up starts a roleplay knowing Eligos is Garlean, despite him looking like a mixed-breed Hyur and my making mention of in introductions, without speaking to me on an out-of-character basis and getting my agreement, I'm going to quietly dip. Often times, such metagaming and any indication of power gaming are indicative of other issues to be alert for, and so if I see the red flags there, I'm unlikely to stop to peer past them to see what there is. I'll take them at face value for what they are.

• I know some lovely PvPers who roleplay. They're great fun to be around and chat with, and I love hearing about their characters! And FFXIV doesn't have a duel system, so this isn't related to them in the slightest. But in other games, if people tried to resolve in-character conflicts by issuing OOC duels, I'd just drop the roleplay as it meant that to them, just having that win under their belt by having better PvP gear was more important than writing things out and making a story. If a duel is to be fought? I prefer dice and rules set out in advance to be fair, no matter level differences, or just trusting the other writer if I know them enough to know they won't be adjusting their build mid-fight or trying to godmode their way to victory or try to outright murder characters without consent.

Thank you for the ask, anon!

[bevercges]

🐭 • So we literally know nothing about Bradley’s shenanigans between the end of Coon vs. Coon & Friends, when he left Earth to discover what happened to his home planet, and Bring the Crunch, where he states that he is living there now and doing who knows what.

Well I always wanted to write a post giving my thoughts on the subject (and I have a bit of a teaser here) so, for the sake of future RPs, I may as well do it. I will probably divide this into two posts because the Lore and my shenanigans are different things.

Just saying it now: this is mostly my own making and ideas as there’s very little canonical backing on the topic. If I have anything that I can quote to use as proof of my statements I will do it, but this is mostly my own interpretation.

Bradley Biggle has been around as a background character since Season 3, joining the main four as one of their classmates after moving to the fourth grade in Season 4. Still, until Season 14, he has been a (recognizable) background character with voice roles that could be easily counted with your hands –akin to characters like DogPoo or Kevin Stoley–.

The introductory paragraph above is a way of saying: we didn’t really know that much about Bradley until the Coon & Friends Trilogy. Hell, we still don’t, it is only on the final part of the trilogy, Coon Vs. Coon & Friends, when we learn a few things about him, and that episode starts with the video above.

“But Bradley Biggle is no ordinary fourth-grader!”

I am not going to waste time explaining why is Mintberry Crunch and what he does (for that’s what his About Page is all about) but, obviously, the entire clip is a form of foreshadowing to the ending. Spoilers to a 10-year-old episode: Bradley receives a message from outer space in which he’s told that he’s an alien from a far away planet whose destiny is to save Earth from C’thulu. Also Kenny thought that this revelation was going to be for him so he got scammed of his backstory, I guess.

So yeah, Bradley is a superhero with a backstory akin to Superman: he is an enhanced alien that was sent off to safety as a baby during times of crisis, and was found, adopted and raised by a human family, the Biggles. Yeah, I don’t think anyone really thought that Bradley and Henrietta were biological siblings, but whatever.

While we don’t know if everyone in the planet K'oh Kajan (or Kokujon, as I will be typing it like that) has the same powers as MBC, since we know that the berries of that planet “have the power to fuel nearly anything”, I’m going to take a guess that the “nearly” is there because they cannot grant superpowers to people, so Bradley is the outlier and a case of the chosen one. He is the only one with this powers, basically.

So he defeats C’thulu with his mint and berry superpowers and stuff (yes, defeats, he can only summon mint and berry to his aid, which would mostly work to reduce an opponent rather than killing them), and this episode ends with what would mark MBC’s exit from the show (outside of the very rare background appearance) for a very long time:

Canonically-speaking, this is what we know.

Bradley left to search for his biological parents (and his home planet, I suppose) and we would not hear about him for sure until Season 21. To be more precise, we would not hear about MBC’s shenanigans until his appearance in Fractured But Whole’s second DLC, Bring the Crunch.

Timestamp goes from 1:06 to 2:22 (unless you want spoilers).

Funny enough, while this would mark MBC’s return, it still does not give us much information about what he has been up to before the events pertaining this DLC. However, we still get a few clues from his in-game dialogue which I’m going to interpret for you guys.

"I picked up your distress call from the berry mines of my home planet. I've come to offer my assistance."

Something we know for sure is that he made it back to Kokujon!! This means that the main reason he has been away for so long (or so it’s my guess) is because he found his home planet, reunited with his biological parents and decided to settle there instead of returning to Earth with the Biggles. We still know that he visits, however, as he appears in Stick of Truth and in some more episodes (before disappearing again in Season 22):

We still don’t really know anything about his home planet, though, outside of very selective information he gives in and out of battle. Here’s a few examples:

"It's so weird being back on Earth. I can't believe you guys only have one sun!"

“You wanna know the best thing about Kokujon? No school."

"I didn't travel halfway across the galaxy to be treated like this."

He doesn’t live anywhere in the Solar System, that’s for sure, because not only he has traveled “across the galaxy” to respond to Fastpass’ distress call (which is another can of worms in itself, because how could have he received a call like that from literal light years away?), but also our system only has one sun.

This is just me trying to tie things together with South Park canon (so it’s a bit of a tangent), but in Season 13, in the episode Pinewood Derby, we are made aware of the existence of the Federation of Planets, a government body that is on a galactic level. The only reason I mention this is because MBC has proven to be capable of traveling at warp speed –traveling from his home planet to Earth in a matter of (what I am going to suppose were) minutes after receiving that distress call–, and all the planets that have discovered warp speed are part of the Federation, so that must be the case for Kokujon.

The exception to this rule, if anyone has watched the episode, would be Earth, but that’s because they didn’t meet the requirements to join the Federation and were blocked off the rest of the galaxy instead.

Not sure if this is canon anymore, but if it is that means that Bradley is constantly breaking the law by visiting a planet that has been labeled as off-limits, but he is not the only alien that has set foot in South Park anyways.

Actually, speaking of breaking the law and stuff, that reminds me... here is a screenshot of MBC’s character sheet:

While most characters in FBW have the Lawful (and only Lawful) alignment, MBC stands out because he has a more specific alignment. Not only he is Chaotic (which explains the possibility of him being breaking the law whenever he travels back to Earth), but also Neutral, which makes him... a morally grey character. He is neither good, neither bad, he is just... well, himself.

Why am I bringing this up anyways? Because there is one detail about the Kokujonian society that those that have played the DLC are aware about: the caste system.

"On my home planet, you'd get 10 years in the berry mines for that!"

The mention of these berry mines have been a thing ever since Season 14, but this line that can pop up when MBC is attacked in game has quite the connotations. Simple: you commit a crime, you are sent to the berry mines. You commit a crime, you work at the berry mines. You commit a crime, you become a slave. But you could say “oh, Mouse, but it could be like community service like many prisons on Earth- “ and I would have to tell you that you’re wrong because even MBC says so himself.

Despite being a trope in many sci-fi stories based around alien societies it is a very fucked up elephant in the room and everyone and their mother knows this. The last mission in the Bring the Crunch DLC involves fighting (and killing) a mind-controlling alien whose motivation was revenge against the society that put his family (and possibly his entire race to) into this position. Not only that, but if MBC is being truthful, the Kokujonian society has no issue to do the same with anyone that breaks the law, even their own people.

So, does the fact that he is part of this society make Bradley evil? No. Once again, he is Chaotic Neutral, he is just Bradley. And looking at the definition of Chaotic Neutral:

“Chaotic neutral characters like to indulge in everything.  [...]  This type of character will at least consider doing anything if they can find enjoyment or amusement.  Life has meaning, but theirs has the greatest meaning.  According to chaotic neutrals, laws and rules infringe on personal freedom and were meant to be broken.  This character is always looking for the best deal, and will work with good, neutral, or evil to get it; as long as he comes out of the situation on top.  The chaotic neutral is constantly teetering between good and evil, rebelling, and bending the law to fit his needs.”

His alignment makes him more complicated than the black-and-white idea that is being good or being evil on one fact alone. He is defined, however, by the fact that he does what he pleases regardless of what society, morality and laws say. And this is easily backed up by how he addresses the Crooked Cop enemy class in FBW:

"Earth police have no jurisdiction over... Mintberry Crunch!"

"Authority figures are no match for... the crunch!"

So, basically, his alignment makes him a free spirit and, at best, because his family owns slaves, he would be a proxy. He’s mostly a 10-year-old with superpowers that has been granted total freedom to do what he wants and takes full advantage of it (an also a superhero and an illegal alien on Earth, literally and figuratively), so he is not precisely defined by the society of his home planet. I do believe, though, that he has been influenced by the Kokujonian society as a result of living with his biological parents, so his morality and ideas flip-flop a lot.

“Chaotic neutral characters are extremely difficult to deal with. Such characters have been known to cheerfully and for no apparent purpose gamble away everything they have on the roll of a single die. They are almost totally unreliable. In fact, the only reliable thing about them is that they cannot be relied upon!”

MBC choosing to fight that alien (an alien he carelessly allowed to follow him to Earth) could also be interpreted as personal defense and him defending planet Earth from an outer space threat as the Zarganor voices his intentions pretty clearly in-battle, but everyone is welcome to draw their own conclusions since both of them were motivated by very different things.

Anyways, once again, Kokujon is a pretty fucked up planet, but it is also Bradley’s home planet. We can assume that finding this planet and his biological parents helped him discover his real identity as Gok'zarah and, once he accomplished this goal, decided that he had nothing else worth pursuing and settled. He is rather unpredictable, as his alignment dictates, so he may not even stay on Kokujon a lot and instead travels through the galaxy- but those are headcanons of mine.

In conclusion, as a TL;DR: Bradley disappeared from Season 14 to Season 21, and then from Season 22 and onwards, because he’s an alien and has chosen to live in his home planet. Said planet’s society has its fucked up side but Bradley is so unpredictable due to his free spirit nature it is hard to pin-point his morals.

Anyways, for a character that started as a joke character that was used as a deus ex machina, I think he’s pretty cool! :·D And probably one of the strongest characters in this show’s universe.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #479

“war sends our sons to slaughter  /  another failed attack; there is no turning back”

Have you ever boycotted something? Yes: Chick-fil-A. Homophobic, transphobic pieces of shit. Has anyone ever borrowed something from you, and not returned it? Yes, a video game when I was little. I was so mad, lol. Do you vent a lot on social media? No. I don't want people to get annoyed with me. What was your first bill you started paying on your own? I haven't been responsible for any bills yet. What is your favorite charitable cause to donate to or volunteer for? I can't/don't do either really, but if I could, I'd probably donate to uhhhh... suicide prevention organizations. As for volunteering, definitely something with animals. Have you ever dated someone who wasn’t at all your usual type? No. What is something you have no patience for? Waiting at the doctor's office. Have you ever received a misdiagnosis? Yes. What’s that you’re listening to? I'm watching Gab play The Evil Within 2. What kind of relationship do you have with the last person you kissed? We're a couple. What is your biggest accomplishment in life? Still being alive. What is one thing that you really wish you could understand, but don’t? Political stuff. Economics. Have you ever been tutored or tutored someone yourself? I had an Algebra tutor the last time I was in college, and I had to strangle an anxiety attack down because I wasn't understanding the material AT ALL and felt so dumb and annoying. I never did it again. What was the last thing you said out loud (singing doesn’t count)? "It's really embarrassing," to Mom. It really is fucking humiliating that my ankles are swollen from walking/standing more and pushing my desk chair back against the resistance of the carpet. That's pathetic. I'm trying to focus on the fact it's good my body is even reacting to moving more, though. Is everything you have on actually yours? Yep. Do you ever just randomly drive around when you’re upset about something? I don't drive, but if I did, that would NOT be my method of de-stressing. What was the last act of creativity you displayed? Writing an RP post. What’s your favorite department in Wal-Mart? Uh, I guess where you can go see the plants and flowers. Do you find kite flying boring? I LOVED it as a kid. I'd still probably find it kinda fun. Do you have any interest in visiting Japan? Yes, but it's not a massive interest. I've heard the humidity can kill a bitch, and I am NOT into that. Have you ever run a cash register? Yes. I sucked. Have you ever worked as a server? No. Have you ever done the Bratz challenge on YouTube? No, but I saw James Charles do it and it was v unnerving, holy shit. Would you rather paint or carve a pumpkin? Carve. What was your worst experience in high school? My depression as a whole. How much did your senior prom dress cost you? I don't remember. Have you ever been in a serious romantic relationship? Three, if you include my current one. Which part of your body is the most muscular? Uh, nothing? What is the first site you check when you get online, generally? KM. Are you good at creative writing assignments? That's my forte. In elementary school, I actually won a I think county-wide creative writing short story assignment. Not to brag, but I've always been very proud of that, ha ha. Or would you rather just do an informative essay? That's easy for me too, but I prefer writing creatively. Are you more attracted to the badasses, or the goody-goody types? Definitely the goody-goodies. The "bad guys" have never appealed to me romantically. Do you raise your hand or participate in class? I did if I really wanted to ask something or was confident in an answer. What is something BIG you want to do with your life? Make a difference, somehow. What do you think of people who own wild animals? Do NOT just casually take in animals from the wild. That's selfish and just generally disgusting. If you're going to keep an animal generally described as wild and undomesticated, you'd better have a license and deserve that license. Know what you're doing and be certain that keeping the animal in captivity is in the animal's best interest for its unique case. Are you good at explaining things, in general? NOOOOOOOOO, I suck at that. Do you like visiting the mall? Why or why not? Not our mall, no. Its stores suck/are extremely limited, and SO much crime has happened there. Do you like window shopping? Why or why not? YESSSSSSS, mostly on Morph Market, a mostly reptile selling hub online. You can browse TONS of breeders and literally thousands of reptiles, especially ball pythons. They even have a tarantula section I like to look at sometimes. If you lost your job/home/etc., who would likely help you? If I'm losing my home, I'm assuming my mom is gone, so my dad. Why did you first kiss the last person you kissed? We were a couple and I felt like I was supposed to. At that time I didn't see him romantically, but I desperately wanted to. Funny how we're back together and I've no reservations against kissing him now. Feelings change, for sure. Plans for tonight? Girt and I will probably play some WoW Classic together. We've started playing that together, and it's lots of fun with him. :') Has anyone seen you kiss the last person you kissed? Actually, no. Have you ever been kissed in a car? Yeah. Do you think anyone has feelings for you? I know Girt does. Is there anyone in your life that knows right away something’s wrong with you? My mom. Who last made you smile? Girt, 'cuz he's a sweetheart. Where is your mother? She's in bed in her room. She feels like shit. Like, you would think she WASN'T vaccinated, though her long-time doctor has said she'd probably be dead without it while having Covid. Would you rather look at clouds or stars? Stars. Think about your biggest mistake, would you go back and change it? I absolutely would. Are you dating the person you last kissed? Yeup. What is the most immature item you own and actually use? Um. Idk. Do you always take a shower after you have sex? I... didn't know people did this? Like I know women are advised to pee after sex, but full-on showering? No. Do you like chocolate popsicles? Oh hell yeah. Are your parents proud of you? They claim to be. I don't see how. Are you interested in the ocean? Yeah; it's inarguably so fascinating. Hot dogs or hamburgers? I prefer burgers. Have you ever been to a Chinatown in any of the cities you’ve been to? No. Have you ever been to couple’s counseling? No. Do you have any dietary restrictions? No. Have you ever turned down a job offer? No. What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet? A dog named Cali that was a boxer mix. Do you ever pray, even if you don't believe in God? What exactly is the point if you don't believe in God...? Anyway, I don't. Have you ever been to Mexico? No. Have you ever gotten stuck in quicksand before? No. What's the shortest or longest length you've ever had your hair grow? To around the small of my back. The last nest you saw - was it a bird nest or a hornet's nest? I think a bird's? Do you enjoy Jeff Dunham? I don't know if I'd like him as a person, but I do think he's a funny comedian. Who is your favorite character from Frozen? I was never into the movies. I do think Elsa is kinda cool (no pun intended, lol), though. I like that she has her flaws. Did you finish high school? If not, do you plan on doing so? I did. Have you been in a simulator that mimicked a submarine or rollercoaster? A rollercoaster, yes. How often do you go out to eat instead of cooking for yourself? Mom and I try to avoid fast food for our health. We do a pretty good job at it, but sometimes for convenience's sake, we do eat it. What is the largest family of siblings that you know of? This is probably gonna come across as very judgmental, but... it really bothers me. I don't know how many kids she has now, but one of the dance moms from the studio has SO many children; I've completely lost count. Now if you want that many kids and can provide for them, that's cool. But that's not the case. She uses the "if God wants me to have a baby, then it will happen" mentality, and I'm just like... um, no hunny. Poor choices are leading to kids you're not adequately providing for. She uses no methods of protection and literally has twins whose room is a fucking closet. Ugh it just really bothers me. What foreign languages were offered to you at school? A whole lot. Only Spanish and I believe French were offered as in-school courses, but there were lots of online classes. If you were required to take a course right now, what would you choose? Photography. Team Biden or Team Trump? Over my dead body would I have voted for Trump. My vote went with Biden. What is an animal native to your country that may not exist in others? Bison are factually exclusive to North America. Note that bison and buffalo are different. What are some of your favorite autumn activities? Taking pictures of fall scenery. <3 What are some of your favorite winter activities? Going out in the snow. :') Especially with a camera. Do you eat a shit-ton the week before your period? uuugggghhHHHHHH yes Wendy's, McDonalds, or Burger King? Wendy's. What's the weirdest question you've ever asked Alexa? I've never asked Alexa anything. Do you prefer your apple cider to be warm or cold? I've actually never had it. Do you prefer your coffee hot or iced? Y'all know the story of me and coffee. Can you sing the alphabet backwards? I can't. Have you ever sent flowers or chocolates to yourself before? Ha ha, no. Is there any meat that you won't eat? Yeah, fish and ANYTHING that comes from a wild animal. Does your cat use anything other than it's scratching post as a scratcher? When we got him a scratcher WITH CATNIP, the lil butthead ignored it. -_- He scratches the carpet instead. Did you go through a vampire craze before? Are you still going through it? Nah. Have you ever forged your parents' signature on a poor test paper, etc? No. Has a bird ever pooped on you before? Omg, no. I'd die. Have you ever been sprayed by a skunk before? No. Are black jellybeans delicious or disgusting? I HATE them. Have you ever rolled down a grassy hill before? I have! I miss that.

[thehouseofvs]

[RP Journal - 1/15/2021] Valeria Camena: The First Steps on a Thousand-Malm Road

It feels strange, writing within a journal again. I haven’t had the need nor desire to keep one since I first arrived here. What was the point, when all of my memories, or at least the ones that mattered, were seared into my mind in the form of relentless nightmares and colorless dreams? Why would I need one, when there was nothing here that was worth my interest or willingness to one day remember? All I needed to do was stay on my path. Pursue the answers that I sought. Fight if I must. Flee if I must. Kill if I must.

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

For five years, I lived like that. In this endless, gray hell that I found myself in, unable to trust anyone, to grow close to anyone, to feel anything for anyone. Because, even after learning the truth, they all still felt fake. Like pale, lifeless imitations of the things I once knew. Of the people I once loved. I desperately wanted to get back everything and everyone I had lost, to be able to feel something again, to see a colorful, true world once more. But then one night I met him, within yet another of my tortuous dreams. Rae-Hann. To be honest, I didn’t know what to make of him at first. An odd stranger, who had somehow wormed his way into the most sacred part of my being. He saw something that no one else had seen. I wanted to lash out at him, to expel him as swiftly as he came. But I stopped myself. My curiosity won over, and I allowed him to stay - and then we talked. It has been a while since then, and the two of us have had many more discussions and “adventures”. It took some time, but eventually the two of us began to form some semblance of trust for one another. After all, we were two strangers in an unfamiliar place, coming from circumstances quite similar to one another. I suppose one would think it was only natural that we would form a bond of sorts, given enough time. And before I knew it, we did. That was when things changed. For the first time in years, I finally saw something different from the grayscale nightmare that was my life. I saw color. I saw Rae-Hann’s color. When I first noticed, I could not help but stare whenever I got the chance, when I thought he was not looking. Simply doing so was like taking a breath after being deprived of air for so long, and the sight of him brought with it a sense of comfort, of peace, and of hope. For the first time, I thought to myself that maybe, just maybe, there was something worthwhile in this world after all.

Rae-Hann took the time to talk with me. To listen to me. To hear, know, and understand me, even if it was only a little. He had held out his hand to me, offering me a place in the life he had carved for himself upon the Source. And like a lovestruck fool, I took it. Like a lost soul, I clung to it. Like a helpless child, I allowed him to guide me away from the path I had been following for so many years. He led me to a different path. To Siannault Tavard. To them, his loved ones at the Star’s Rest. But it has not been easy, even ignoring the wound upon my shoulder and the circumstances of my arrival. I have always been an awkward girl, even in my old life. It was never comfortable for me to make new friends, or socialize with strangers. But I tried. For Stilicho’s sake, and now for Rae-Hann’s. I met a few of them. Aultena Sephimiri, Karrn Moks, Edgard Beaumont, V’hala Helsi, and V’ari Tia. Seeing those twins here had me concerned, but like Siannault, they seemed to have no recollection of me. The real me. Likely for the best.

However, I had been able to tell that the atmosphere around the Inn has grown more dense as of late. I initially wondered if it was due to my own presence, but the arguments I briefly overheard between Rae-Hann, Aultena, and Siannault clued me in. It seems that even in this warm, cozy little inn full of friends and family, there was still problems lying just underneath the surface.

Whatever was currently happening, I felt as though it was a poor time for me to stay here at the Rest. As warm and welcoming as they have made me feel since coming here, I cannot say that I have not felt as though I were an intruder within their world - their reality. After all, they’re all still gray to me. Perhaps, if given enough time, that will change, but when? I have been contemplating leaving today. I think it would be for the best. My wound was manageable now, and there did not seem to be any adverse effects since the incident, so I think I should be alright to do so. But how will Rae think, if I were to suddenly go? Would he feel like I was abandoning him, at a time when he might need me? I feel sort of silly, thinking this way, because he’s surrounded by so many loving people who care for him. But I feel I at least owe it to him to talk, before I do take my leave. Speaking of, it seems he just arrived. I will continue this later tonight, I think. It feels oddly cathartic, putting my thoughts down like this. Until then... -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, tonight was interesting. I am not really sure where to begin with this, but I suppose I should do so after Rae-Hann came to see me in the Rest’s infirmary. He had caught me writing in this journal, as well as the sight of my packed belongings, but he did not seem surprised. Although, considering what he himself had been planning to do, perhaps he thought it was not his place to judge. Whatever the case was, he came to inform me that he was leaving the Rest for some time. We talked about his plans. Apparently, he wanted to head to Ul’dah to wrap up some unfinished business with that fortune-teller we met, Una’to. I have my reservations about the Voidsent-possessed man, but I trust Rae-Hann. Whatever his intentions are, I know I do not have to fear. Still, I am concerned. And I voiced my concerns, but I did not try to persuade him from his current course. I knew better than that. However, Rae did not seem to know what he would do with himself afterwards. Perhaps return to his research, or other jobs that he said he had put on hold, for the sake of the Rest and its inhabitants. Looking at him now, I think I finally understand what it was he saw in me the day we met. Right now, I saw someone who felt alone, lost, and angry with the world. So, I took a chance.

I finally took that first step forward. To truly, fully invite the Mystel who had brought me no small amount of joy and hope into my life. I reached out and offered my hand to him, as he had done for me so many moons ago. I told him that since neither of us had a plan, an idea of where we’d go, why not simply take that journey together? Neither of us had to be alone. We could do what we wanted, when we wanted, how we wanted - and know that, at the end of the day, we would still have someone to return to. That, together, maybe we could find something worthwhile on this star. After the words left me, my heart raced. I felt as though I was on the edge of panic. I feared that I might have stepped to far, or misread what Rae needed at that moment. I wanted to simply run and hide my shame, feeling as though a rejection were imminent. But that did not happen. Just like when I took a chance and accepted him when he reached out to me, he now did the same with me...on the condition that, were he to ever hurt me, that I would tell him. That I would be honest with him about my woes. On the surface, that condition might have been an odd one to make. But hearing the pain in his voice, the strain of withheld tears, was more than enough to tell me what lay hidden within his request. Not that it was a difficult one for me to accept. I pulled him into a hug on instinct, sensing the raw hurt he was feeling, and I made my promise. Rae is...the only person on this star with whom I feel as though I can be completely honest with, and I told him as much.

After our tender moment passed, we made arrangements to meet at Shirogane’s pier, once I had settled my end of things at the Rest. With my belongings, I searched for Aultena so as to pay off my debt - but after having no luck, I was lucky enough to stumble into V’hala and was able to settle things with her. That said, I decided to leave a letter for the Rest’s proprietress, informing her of some of what was happening. Aultena deserved as much, after taking a moment to consider how I would feel if I were in her place. It isn’t much, especially coming from a stranger such as myself, but I hope it offers some small amount of comfort. I also left a letter for Karrn Moks within the infirmary. It felt terrible to leave so suddenly, especially after all the care he had given me since my dramatic arrival. I wanted to at least thank him, and let him know that I hoped we would meet again eventually.

With my work finished, I left the Rest behind and went to the pier to meet Rae. I spotted him shortly after, and stood with him near the water’s edge. We sort of just stared out at the distant waves for a bit and talked...I suppose we were both contemplating about what was to come in the near future. Of what this journey would be like for us. When the subject of our departure, of taking our first steps, was broached...I suggested we do something a little strange. An old legend I remember hearing, once - if you place a wish within a glass bottle, and allow it to be carried away by the ocean, perhaps one day it might come true. It seems silly, I know, but it felt appropriate. And meaningful. So, we went to the edge of the pier and cast the bottle I had prepared off onto the waves, allowing both of our wishes to drift onto the horizon. Rae wished for solace, sincerity, satisfaction...and mine was for our success and safety on the road ahead. Well, that, and perhaps another, more selfish wish of mine. If possible, I wanted to one day find some measure of happiness...ideally, with Rae included.

And with that final send-off, the two of us had no business left in Shirogane. Our next step was to head to Kugane, and then charter for transport to Ul’dah. While our journey was to start as soon as we left upon the ferry, I think we both knew it would not truly begin until the last of Rae’s business was concluded. And so, we departed from the residential ward’s shores, to lantern-lit Kugane and the world beyond. The rest of the day after that was a blur. Though neither of us had explored Kugane before, neither of us felt as though now was a good time. But...maybe someday in the future, we can take the time to properly see the city’s sights. Instead, we booked the first airship headed for Limsa Lominsa, and from there to Ul’dah. Tonight is the first night of our trip, and Rae-Hann is certainly unaccustomed to airship travel. I’ve never seen him so unsettled...is it weird that I find it sort of adorable? But, I think that is where I will leave this. Writing in this journal will take some getting used to, but I think I can see the merits of it. Who knows, maybe one day, I’ll want to use these to look back and remember this. I certainly hope so. And, strangely enough...I look forward to what waits in store for us, on this thousand-malm road. ( @yokasaris​ @casualcatte​ @therpperson​ )

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP Meme from "Chapter Two: The Hurricane’s Eye" in the Shadow Lords Tribebook from "Werewolf: The Apocalypse" Part Two of Two

Some of it is true, but most is not.

The details vary from place to place, but any you hear which are “true” most likely are not.

Be aware that the invitation itself is a great honor, and conduct yourself accordingly.

Renown is not important, and neither is rank.

Only ideas count, along with the will to act on them when need be.

While most of us are aware of that purpose to a greater or lesser extent, the hard truth of the matter is that we are more interested in our personal agendas than we are in any

higher goal.

All of us lust for power, but most have forgotten the reasons why we pursue such ends, and why the ends we seek most certainly justify any means we might employ to achieve them.

All pursue the path to power in different fashions.

Competition makes us stronger, and divergent philosophies yield opportunities missed by other, simpler credos.

They are not interested in personal power for its own sake, nor in leadership of any sort.

They are more than willing to debase themselves for the sake of others, and their actions free many of us to bring other, more potent schemes to fruition.

Though they will not (usually) use this information for personal gain, they have no compunctions against destroying an unfit leader so that others might take his place.

They are pitiless and remorseless, and cloaked in an aura of mystery that only adds to their fearsome reputations.

They have eyes everywhere, and they are watching.

The lure of power intoxicates them, and they will do anything in their power to bring it within their grasp.

Power is the end for them, not merely a means to an end, and as such dominance and control are their meat and drink.

Few of its members come to healthy ends.

Pity so few of them make good on their rhetoric.

Circles within circles. It’s how we work.

They are, for the most part, fairly deluded individuals, pretending they are responsible for the sins of their forefathers and letting their sense of guilt guide their actions in the here and now.

It should be obvious that the time has come to put the past behind us and move forward, even as we learn from our mistakes to tread more carefully in the future.

But these fools wallow in the pain they feel they’ve caused, and hope to undo it and make things right again.

What they fail to understand is that, even if they’re successful, it won’t help us in the here and now – at best it will appease the souls of the dead, and we don’t have time for that now.

Their hearts might be noble, but their intentions are misplaced, and that might cost us dearly when all is said and done.

From time to time we hear that someone or other has started practicing those dark rituals once again, but none of these reports ever proves to be substantial.

None are immune to this, no matter their station.

They’re a by-product, the proof that we’ve fouled things up, nothing more.

Any fighting force needs strategists as well as warriors to be effective, and you must always remember fall into the former camp.

If you are foolish, however, you will only be consumed by your own ambition. Tread carefully.

You should always remember that it is only overt displays of aggression which are typically frowned upon.

It is mostly a matter of courtesy and ceremony, which means observing it is no great bother.

Accepting an honorable surrender leaves your opponent beholden to you, which gives you a tremendous advantage over that individual and all that are allied with him.

An opponent who surrenders in this instance is either attempting to trick you, or not very honorable to begin with.

Always bow to your betters, but do not let them cow you into submission unless they truly are your betters.

Humans have always feared us, and with the advent of an industrialized civilization they now have the tools to turn that fear into hatred and persecution.

If a warrior, to say nothing of a leader, is not fit to pull his own weight within a sept, then he is not fit to live.

Even an old and frail leader can prove to be surprisingly fit in mind and spirit, and if he is capable of performing his duties you damn well better mind your business and leave him be.

Our leaders must be continually tested to keep them in fighting trim, and that means making power plays when you can get away with it.

Don’t be a fucking asshole.

This isn’t about you, you little shit.

We’re fighting for a cause, and that comes first.

Stay on target, get your tasks done, and deal with any problems in leadership only after your immediate task is completed.

Violate this law, and you will not merely be punished. You will die. Painfully.

In many ways, it seems as though we have passed a turning point.

He’s going to change the world, if he has to kill every man, woman and child on Earth to do it.

You can make these people do just about anything, provided you can make it a point of honor for them to go along with your plans.

Do your homework before coming here, though, because you’ll be skinned alive if you don’t.

We have no business being there, and it has little to offer us in any event.

The ruthless politicking would be worth the trouble if the opponents were worth our time.

I wouldn’t say they’re making nice with us, but their kind and ours are becoming more and more interdependent, and that means the opportunities here are staggering.

We all have the same goal, and that means there are many opportunities for personal glory and consolidation of power if one plays his cards right.

This place is a gold mine, so don’t ignore it.

They are, of course, social outcasts, but that only enhances their utility in many respects. They see all that happens around them, and no one notices them as they scurry about their business. They are so eager to please, and so willing to talk to people who take the time to notice them and treat them like human beings — or even simple dogs. Call them mongrels if you will, but do not discount the wisdom they have to offer.

You should not ignore them, but do not expect much from them, either.

Some of them fancy themselves canny politicians, but this is a delusion. Be sure to indulge them, however, as they do not take insults lightly.

That makes them available, gullible, and effective, three fine traits in any tool.

Just be sure to cover your tracks whenever you make them suffer — they do not take kindly to being manipulated, and they have a longer reach than you might think.

You can manipulate them, if you approach them with care.

You must continue to humor them, of course, but they are no longer your masters.

Valuable allies, if you ask me.

They are stupid and hateful, and do not act on their convictions. I do not even think they have convictions.

We’re better off without them.

Bah! I don’t care how useful the little beasts are!

And do I need to reinforce the importance of dealing through intermediaries? I thought not.

We need no more enemies, particularly those that can rise from the dead.

They are wondrous sources of information, and ultimately disposable. They are ideal tools.

I say they’re vermin, and deserve to be stepped on accordingly.

They are of no concern to you.

While this may not seem like a critical project, it nonetheless deserves our attention.

Most of the others are both dangerous and more numerous than we are, so you must exercise extreme caution when dealing with them.

Do not assume they think like you do, or that they are motivated by the same sorts of goals.

These are alien beings, and you must treat them accordingly.

This disgusts me.

You don’t want to make them angry, but if you can get one in your pocket they can prove to be a terrific ace up your sleeve.

Your humanity is showing.

These beings hold secrets, and secrets hold power.

It is typically not our way to truck with the dead, but they are a resource, which is easily exploited if you know what they seek, and how to get it.

I’ve encountered ghosts in a number of places, typically sites of horrific acts or great battles.

Their time is gone, it seems.

It is a sad thing, I suppose, but they are ultimately of no consequence to us.

I’ve never understood why it is they’re here to begin with.

Unfortunately for them, they are clumsy, disorganized, and more often than not incompetent.

They have no real community to speak of, no formal training to fall back on, and no coherent agenda.

This makes them fantastic tools, since they never know what to expect from us and are just looking for targets which often coincide with our own.

So, a little push here, a little nudge there, and they do our work for us, all without us dirtying our hands or wasting other, more valuable resources on the job.

Great opportunities, there, so long as we can keep their attention far away from us.

They are uninformed, disorganized, misguided, and utterly ineffectual without aid from other sources.

This makes them fine pawns, I suppose, but don’t count on them for too much.

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Chat log - Oct 8

Somehow we got from "Valera confronts Alastor about his obvious crush on her fiancé" to "Alastor makes a bargain with the fae in exchange for time travel" and that's why RP is beautiful.

Valera

Valera walked through the front door of the hotel, a folder of newly acquired sheet music swapped between one hand and the other as she shrugged her way out of a coat that dissolved into so much sparkly vapor as it hit the floor. Ah, the smell of paper and ink, the thrill of a New Thing To Play With. Why, her tail would be wagging if she wasn't consciously trying to avoid accidentally stabbing Alastor! Speaking of, she turns back, waiting for the aforementioned deer to join her.

Alastor

Alastor, on the other hand, will be keeping his coat on. He checks to make sure Valera's entire tail is safely inside before letting the door swing shut. "And there—safely back in the hotel! Mission accomplished, and with no shots fired!" He says this as if that's a common danger when going to the music store. Everything's relative.

Valera

How generous of him! "You say that so casually, Hell must be quite a bit more exciting when you've made a name for yourself! But thank you, my dear. The escort was appreciated." She offers a shallow curtsy, fanning herself with the folder for added effect before popping back up. "Actually! Would you like to come try the new music with me?"

Alastor

"You're quite welcome, any time. It's both more exciting and less exciting! But I've been a sensation in Hell since the day I arrived, I can't truly tell you what the alternative is like."

Oh, the magic words. His grin stretches wider. "I'd be delighted to!"

Valera

Hook, line, and sinker. She grins, luring him away to his doom the piano, where she makes a dramatic show of plopping down on one end of the bench with plenty of room left for him, and setting the sheet music up. "Here, get comfortable! Fair warning, I'm better on a harpsichord than a piano, so I'm sure you'll do much better than I will."

Alastor

Oblivious to his pending doom, he takes the offered seat and glances over the sheet music. What have we got today? "I don't think I've ever played a harpsichord! But I can imagine the adjustment—I've taken a spin once or twice on an organ, and oh, what a world of difference! Isn't it amazing how many instruments have identical keyboards and yet you have to play them completely differently!"

Valera

"Oh yes! Harpsichords don't have any subtlety to them. No matter how hard or gently you hit the keys, the note is always top volume!" A wink. "Like a certain snake, come to think of it!" She'd thought of him in the music store, lucky him, and went out of her way to find a piece or two from his own time along with a few well known showtunes from Broadway. And in the back, a few pieces from Disney. Scandalous. "Figured we'd start with something simple. Are you familiar with Carroll Gibbons?"

Alastor

"Hah." And he'd been doing so WELL trying not to think about Sir Pentious; he'd lasted almost five minutes—which was pretty long when he was talking to Sir Pentious's fiancée. "All the better to ensure as many people as possible hear his grandiose proclamations, I'm sure!"

He skimmed over the sheet music. "Vaguely familiar, can't say from where." Muffled disembodied piano notes played the melody sped up as Alastor glanced over the first page—ought to be simple enough to play. "Sounds like my time."

Valera

Poor, poor Alastor. Wipe off that chalkboard, he wont be making much progress on that timer today. "I asked for something from around that era, so I certainly hope so! You were right though, it's a very fine store indeed. We're lucky you couldn't go in with me or I might have gotten more than I could carry, and we all know I'm struggling enough with that problem already." Wink!

She cracks her knuckles, trying to keep a straight face as she puts her fingers to the keys. Oh, the funny little inside jokes of friends who are obviously both in on the bit.

Alastor

He wonders whether that was a sexual euphemism or just a reference to Sir Pentious's new length. "THAT weight, I could have helped you carry!" He's gonna quietly pretend he doesn't detest the implication that Sir Pentious is too much. Probably just a reference to him being fifteen feet long, don't read into it.

It's music time now!

Valera

The answer seemed in line, no reason for Valera to hesitate, so instead she gives Alastor a smile and launches into a rendition of The Gay Imposter's medley. A simple enough piece for her to start with, and while she starts with a heavy enough hand on the keys that even she flinches at the sound, she eases off quickly into something he wouldn't have to shout to duet with.

Alastor

She adjusts fast, he'll give her that; and makes a mental note that apparently one has to play harder on a harpsichord. He doesn't know if he'll ever use this knowledge, but one never knows.

And so a duet it is—or more, once he realizes that this little medley could benefit from some strings, couldn't it, and calls up a shadow with a violin to improvise an accompaniment.

Valera

She hums and pulls her hands away from the keys, reaching for the folder for another piece to try. "Here, the next one is yours." Actually, now that she's said that.. That brings something to mind. "Do you want to go hunting on Earth, when this.." A gesture towards herself. "..Ordeal? Is over? So, sometime next month? I've seen you talk about missing venison."

Alastor

Hunting on Earth—there's a thought! Something he never imagined he'd do again!

Something he isn't sure he should. That's... something he's going to have to consider. But he doesn't need to give an immediate answer, does he?

"'Ordeal'? I hope you're not referring to your own company! I wouldn't call a stroll to the music store and a spin on the piano an 'ordeal'!"

Valera

... She blinks, brows slowly furrowing as she turns that over in her head. Did he not know? Was he playing it off? Fuck, maybe Pentious hadn't said anything yet, if he'd even planned to. Uh oh. Alright. Carefully, carefully, she turns back to the folder, browsing through sheet music to keep her hands busy.

"Apologies, dear Alastor. I thought Pentious had informed you shortly after he told Match." A polite clearing of her throat, her fins dipping down apologetically. "I'm chock full of eggs, dearie."

Alastor

Alastor blinks in amazement, gaze flicking from Valera's face down to her abdomen and then back up to her face.

For a couple of seconds of loudly buzzing static, a hurricane of thoughts storms through his mind:

Why hadn't he been told? Did Sir Pentious not want him to know? No, that's ridiculous, Sir Pentious trusts him—even though he shouldn't, it's obvious he does—so it wasn't a decision made out of secrecy but out of—what, apathy? Apathy toward what? Certainly not the eggs, certainly they weren't too uninteresting to share, not when Sir Pentious wants children so badly he collects dolls of them, he has to be brimming over with joy—then the apathy was toward Alastor himself, he didn't qualify being told the news. Why should he? They barely knew each other—sure, their friendship had moved fast—sure, the second time they'd met they'd fallen asleep together drunk and curled around each other and— But what's rushed intimacy like that worth when they hardly know each other?

All that in just a couple of seconds as his heart plummets. Then a broad smile breaks out across his face. "Are you really! Well, a thousand congratulations to you both! I'm sure you must both be completely overjoyed. And they're due sometime next month?! I suppose you'll be scheduling that wedding a little sooner, ha! My, but we rarely get news like this in Hell!"

Valera

A moment of calm as she watches him take the information in, and then he starts in with the cheer and she has to watch. The moment he's done, she practically vibrates, hands frantically waving between them as she resists the urge to grab the poor man by the shoulders and shake him. No shouting, she has to hiss whisper before the whole hotel hears their conversation. "Wh-- No, whoa whoa no!!! No you put those thoughts back in the pit they crawled out of, I could FEEL your brain breaking!!! Alastor they're completely nonfertilized. There's not going to be eels tearing through the hotel anytime this year! You're okay!"

Alastor

"I—Oh!" Give him a split second to restructure all his thoughts. "Oh, are they!" He laughs. "Goodness me, and here I was about to run off and buy baby bonnets as a gift, hah—Pity, though." And it is a pity. Does that mean Sir Pentious and Valera aren't fertile together after all? Or did they expect this?

As delicately as he can, he says, "I'm afraid I don't know enough about your people to tell if I should be offering you my deepest condolences, or if you just lay a batch every once in a while like a chicken."

Valera

Oh, now he's trying to be kind? How sweet of him. She chuckles, a bit breathless, and puts a hand to her chest. That could have gotten ugly. The questions are a bit TMI, but such things can't be avoided, sometimes. She'll try to keep it vague, for Alastor's sake.

"I'm on contraceptives! He just confused my body into thinking it was fertilized. Overachieving first timer performance, you know? Which I suppose I understand. Thirty six years of nothing, nada, and then constantly being in contact with someone who keeps sending all the right signals." It's funny, now that she thinks about it. But very nonhuman. No wonder everyone keeps being confused.

Alastor

He'd like to think he's been trying to be kind the whole time.

He blinks for a moment as he tries to wrap his mind around that medical explanation. "Well... I... can't say that I've ever met a creature that can get false pregnancies just from an enthusiastic lover. It certainly doesn't happen among humans!"

Or does it? Maybe that's what some miscarriages are? He has absolutely no idea, it's never been relevant to his life. Certainly, if it does happen to humans, that hadn't been part of the medical knowledge in his time. "Poor man must have been completely baffled by the whole thing."

(He's doing a pretty good job of not thinking about the "right signals.")

Valera

"It doesn't happen often, it threw BOTH of us for a loop. But he took it remarkably well, all things considered! Just the proof he needed that we really are compatible. He's just being a bit more possessive and touchy feely since he heard, and that's hardly a negative." Her cheeks flush. Oh yeah, not a negative at all. But best not to think about that around Alastor. He's already trying so hard not to die over her relationship.

She coughs. "Actually, that brings something else to mind, if you'll humor me."

Alastor

"A test run, then! In that case, my congratulations again—for the evidence of your compatibility." It'll make things easier later on, won't it? And that's something Alastor has worried about—whether Valera's species really would let Sir Pentious get around the natural infertility of demons. Well, there it is.

"Oh, does it?" He gives her a sly look. "Well, I didn't think we'd be having this conversation so soon, but since you brought it up: yes, if you insist, you can name the first boy after me, as long as you promise to spell my name right! You'd be amazed how many people don't spell it with an O." Laugh track, laugh track. "But really—what's on your mind?"

Valera

A wheeze, her body nearly doubling over, a fist over her mouth to muffle stifled giggles as Alastor yanks the rug out from under her feet with his bit. Dear gods, the very idea. The scandal! It's more tempting than it should be, but Pentious would murder her... Probably. Maybe not.

"Well, I mean...... No no, I could never. Veci can have multiple sires for a single pup, people would think you really were one of the fathers. But tell you what, you think of a good snake pun and I'll put it on the list." Humor aside, time to get serious. A pause while she composes herself, smooths down the front of her dress.. And she is suddenly very nervous all over again. Lovely.

"There's no graceful way to put this, I'm afraid. And let me preface this by saying. I'm not angry or judging you, I wont tell anyone without your explicit permission, and I'm willing to shake on that if it brings you peace of mind." A beat. "But I am fully aware of your feelings for Pentious, dear Alastor."

Alastor

His mind is bouncing between the medical miracle of a child with multiple fathers and the list of snake puns that as it so happens he already has, trying to decide which he wants to comment on first—and then it's his turn to have the rug pulled out from under him.

He only spends a split second silent, mouth half open from almost starting a sentence on a prior topic he's already forgotten; and then his teeth click shut like a dial turning off, and now he's all polite smiles and genial tone. "Are you?"

Valera

She nods, just once, and offers Alastor what she hopes is a comforting smile, though it may be a grimace with how her stomach is turning. "I am. And again, I have absolutely no intentions of breathing a word to even suggest it to anyone but yourself. I wont run off and tell Pentious, or writing it out on dash for anyone to see. I'm speaking to you about it because I want to make sure you know that I don't mind. You've been a good friend to him, and myself as well. You've been incredibly respectful, and I want to acknowledge that. This isn't an accusation."

Alastor

"Ah." His glowing red gaze lingers for a moment on the piano keys—no hope of getting to play for a while now, is there—and then his traveling gaze falls on the shadow he summoned up earlier. "What—Are you still here? Aren't you nosy!" He hops out of his seat, making a comical little pantomime of shooing the shadow until it hustles across the room and vanishes, taking its violin with it.

"Eavesdroppers." Alastor tisks, critically watching the spot where the shadow disappeared.

His gaze is still across the room when he says amiably, "You're wrong, though." The corner of his mouth twitches up: haha, gotcha, had you fooled. "It's not him. Just someone who looks and sounds and acts the same."

Valera

Valera turns back to the piano, playing a few barely audible notes to buy herself some time while Alastor busied himself with shooing off his shadowy minion. It was easy to go in heavy handed, get the most from your efforts. But a delicate touch made sweeter sounds, in and out of the world of music. Perhaps she needed a more delicate approach..

Wow, that was as stupid as it was fake poetic! Ugh, back to what she SHOULD be focusing on. "The Pentious of your own Hell, then. My apologies. So you're projecting your feelings for your own Pentious onto the one we both know, then?"

Alastor

"Oh, completely!" He laughs ruefully. "I've known him a mere thirty-three days! Everything I know about him amounts to thing I can assume about the one based on the other, and a list of points that differ. I don't really know him at all. How could I?"

Valera

Well now, that seems unfair to both Alastor and Pentious! She knows for a fact that the two of them have had GREAT fun together, with and without her around to witness it! "I understand what you're saying."

She stops, squints. Shakes her head. "No. I shouldn't say that. I don't understand what you're saying, I just think I can empathize with your predicament. I've spent years knowing various iterations of all sorts of people, but I've never met an alternate of a person I pined over. It sounds like torture."

Alastor

The word torture is met with studio audience laughter. "Then you should consider yourself lucky!" The chipper tone doesn't falter for a second. "I wouldn't recommend it to anyone, hah! Well, maybe my worst enemy—PROBABLY my worst enemy, truth be told, I am not and never have been gracious to my foes—but that aside, oh, no, the experience has nothing to recommend it." Prattle, prattle.

Valera

She licks her lips, raspy tongue flicking out far further than necessary as she weighs her options. She could try to end the conversation here, reel him back in with a musical number. Or dive into his emotional anguish and run the risk of either bonding with him OR making him so wildly uncomfortable he'd avoid her for weeks.

Eh, fifty fifty shot, she likes those odds. She hops off the bench, walking over to Alastor to.. Well. She wont touch him, but she'll just make her presence.. present. "Alastor. I'm going to ask a lot of you here, but tell me. In your ideal outcome, the best case scenario, what would you want out of this whole... Thing?"

Alastor

"Oh! Jumping straight to the thousand dollar question and skipping over the tens and hundreds?" He puts a hand over his heart as though the audacity has sent him into near cardiac arrest. "No no—the last time we played this little question-and-answer game, you remember, we left off on my turn. I get to ask the next one."

He turns more fully toward her—still the polite smile—to ask, "What gave me away? I am a performer, you know; I do pride myself on my ability to keep in character!"

Valera

If Alastor wanted to make a game out of it, so be it. Maybe that was simply what he felt comfortable with. Hope he can appreciate an honest answer. She makes dead eye contact and grins.

"You're touch averse to everyone but Pentious. You latch onto him given the slightest chance, jump on every excuse to be around him. Always craving any kind of touch. A bite, laying on his coils, anything you can get. You stare, you sigh, you practically swoon every time he smiles at you. I act the same way, don't get me wrong, but I'm engaged to him."

Alastor

Thank god for being dead, no blood flow means one's cheeks never burn. Alastor would point out that Valera has never seen him around anyone but Sir Pentious, how would she know whose touch he is and isn't averse to—but no, he confessed that one himself, didn't he? Slouched all over Sir Pentious at the theater while laughing about how much he hates being touched.

An uneasy pit forms in his stomach. (A second, new, additional uneasy pit, next to the gaping sinkhole that's already been forming.) That was right before Sir Pentious shoved him off and didn't address him for the rest of the show. If Valera had been able to put two and two together then...

He draws himself upright in mock offense. "I do not sigh! I won't object to the accurate accusations, but I'm quite certain I'm not a sigher!" He pauses. "And I'd protest the swooning too, except I don't know what a swoon looks like. I don't think anyone actually does that outside of novels."

Valera

She snickers, bouncing on her heels while her fins waggle. Good, something she can crack a joke about, the atmosphere in here was getting downright suffocating. "Well! I'd show you my best swoon, but I'm very heavy and I think I would break either your bones or the couch if I tried it." His skinny little arms would shatter like toothpicks trying to catch her, probably. And that was IF he caught her. No no, there will be no trust falls today.

"Now answer my question, dear fellow. What would be your ideal outcome in this terribly tricky predicament? It doesn't have to be realistic, it just has to be what would make you happiest."

Alastor

He arches an eyebrow. "No working your way up with the easy ones?" He's stalling.

Valera

She arches her own right back! "No. If I wanted to pussyfoot around difficult subjects, I'd find a cat to dance with, not a deer."

Alastor

"Why, don't you know how skittish deer are? Liable to bound off into the woods at a moment's notice!"

He's still stalling.

Valera

She leans in closer, all three eyes narrowing as she stares down at the smaller man. "Alastor, if you keep stalling I am going to start shaking you until the answers fall out, touch aversion or no."

Alastor

His polite smile turns cold. "Try it and you'll never get another word out of me again." It's gonna be all instrumentals all the time, baby. Just orchestras and sound effects.

"If you'd rather wait in silence than enjoy my delightful banter, then fine. Just—give me a moment. To think. I don't have all my dialogue prewritten, you know."

He doesn't yet have the words for something he's never, ever considered putting voice to.

Valera

She withdraws, glossing over his cold threat with a pleasantly bland smile and nod. "Fair enough. My apologies, you were starting to sound like you were about to make a break for it to avoid the discussion entirely. Take your time, Alastor."

Guess she might as well get comfortable then, the couch is looking rather inviting, and as fun as towering over people is, it does tend to make them more nervous than necessary. He's going to talk, she's going to magic up some tea.

Alastor

He plays an idle boring tune over a metronome to fill the silence as he sighs, shuts his eyes, and tilts his head back, thinking.

The problem isn't that he doesn't know what he wants. The problem is he wants so much in so many different ways. The problem is choosing one facet of it that's small enough to say out loud. The problem is putting it into a sentence that won't terrify his nosy guest. The problem is finding words that he can squeeze out before a lump forms in his throat.

Finally, opening his eyes, still staring at the ceiling, he says, "The most ideal, most unrealistic outcome would be to go back in time—fifty-four years, four months, and two days—and change one thing. In a way that doesn't cause the timeline to form a new branch, but that—erases this path completely. So it never existed." He gives Valera a tired look. "But that's beyond even you, isn't it."

Valera

Her mouth opens, but she hesitates. Then shrugs, and gestures for him to take a seat with a far more genuine smile.

"If I answered that in any kind of simple manner, we'd be here all week. Why don't you sit down and have a drink with me, and we can approach this more gently. I'd like to help you, Alastor, even if my methods are.. Overly direct at times." That's putting it mildly. After a day of politics, her capacity for subtlety was shot at the BEST of times. Poor Alastor was getting her at her finest, here.

Alastor

He studies her a moment, a spark of energy lighting his eyes with interest. "Well, if that's your way of saying 'maybe'—I've waited fifty-four years, what's another week?" He waves a nearby chair into sliding over and takes a seat. "Go on."

Valera

She slides a cup of tea across the table, mutely gesturing to the customary cream and sugar she'd not bothered to partake in herself. As an afterthought, she drags a plate of venison jerky through from her own realm. Not a customary tea snack, but it's not like she could truly enjoy anything sweet right now. Plus, gnawing on a piece of jerky was a wonderful stalling tool for both of them now.

Mm, jerky. Now.. Goodness. How can she be delicate about this? "In theory, my dear, I could attempt to put your current mind back in that exact moment you described. It would, of course, destroy this current reality and everyone in it if it worked, and force you to relive the trauma from a spectator's perspective if it didn't."

Alastor

He glances at the cup, but doesn't move to take it. "I like those odds."

Valera

"Really? Most people would hear that opener and cut the conversation there. Though I suppose you aren't most people." No, this was the Radio Demon himself, willing to sacrifice anyone and anything to get what he wanted! Allegedly!

A dry smile. "Might I remind you that I'm thirty six years old and entertaining the notion of attempting to rewrite reality itself for a man I've only started growing comfortable with calling a friend, all so you can fix whatever you broke on that fateful day, dear Alastor?"

Alastor

He blinks. "You're thirty-six?"

Valera

That's what he fixated on? Dear gods, the cackle that came out of her.

"Yes, yes I am. Thirty six years old, and already so accomplished that I've seen both Heaven and Hell. Aren't I lucky?"

Alastor

When she'd mentioned "thirty-six years" earlier—in the middle of a conversation about her sex life—he'd thought she was giving the length of her dry spell, not her life. "My, oh my! Amazing! What's that in Earth years?" He leans forward, all chipper again. "And look how lucky you are NOW. A chance to attempt rewriting a reality you have no personal attachment to, on behalf of a man you only barely consider a friend—no great loss to you! All the risk falls on me! You get to document the results and learn something new about these fantastic abilities you're wielding—even as impressive as they are, I'm sure you must have more to learn! Why, I don't see a downside for you!"

Valera

Her nose scrunches in disgust. "Ugh, you're going to ask me to do math? Some friend you are. But more seriously."

Give her a moment while she adjusts herself, shoving a pillow under her back as she lifts her legs to take up the couch in a comfortable lounge. Oh yes, that's the good stuff. "You really don't see any downside for me? How about the risk of re-traumatizing my friend if it fails? Or destroying an entire reality for one person's desires? That would mean destroying the residents of this hotel, plus the Pentious that exists right now."

Alastor

"I'm in Hell, I deserve the trauma." Absolutely no hesitation. "Destroying one reality to create another. Another with the exact same people who were erased. Another where he wins. Where he comes out on top." He scoots forward in his seat, insistent, animated. "This isn't about me, darling—the fact that I benefit is just a bonus. This is about him. He was poised to conquer. Change one detail, one decision, and he could be ruling half of Hell by now. Maybe more! My god, he was already unstoppable, what if he'd picked up the pace?!"

He reaches for one of Valera's hands to squeeze. "I'm trying to give him Heaven and Hell—I want to give him everything he's ever wanted. Wouldn't you?"

Valera

The sudden touch was jarring, but her hand curls around his reflexively, the warmth seeping through his gloves a marked contrast with the coolness of her scales. It was almost enough to make her relax into his touch, and that was dangerous. She hesitates.

"Would I do anything in my power to help Pentious? Of course I would. But.." She would. She'd make a deal with just about anyone if it meant helping her beau. And Alastor was trying to do that now, for his own object of affection. It was between helping Alastor, and.. Well. An entire reality possibly being voided.

"Are you certain it's worth it? Could you live with yourself if you tried, and failed, and came back to this current present with all those memories fresh? What did you do, Alastor, that was so unmendable that you'd turn to a coinflip to fix it?"

Alastor

"I'm damned. I don't need to live with myself." His smile thinned grimly. "I'm asking you to try to help me cheat the system. If we succeed, then he gets what he wants. If we fail, then that just means the system works, and—and I get what I deserve. Hell is a punishment. I accept that."

He holds up a finger at her last question. "We're supposed to be taking turns asking the questions. I don't see any reason why you need to know if you aren't going to help me fix it. So: are you?"

Valera

Valera looks down at the table, staring into her teacup as if it could answer the questions racing through her mind. Was it worth it? Could she willingly sacrifice the people she'd met at this hotel, in this Hell, just for a chance to help a friend fix a problem it sounded more and more like he'd caused? Was this really a deal she could make? What would she want?

She takes a breath. Lifts her gaze to meet his. "If you're certain you're willing to try this, I'll help you. I'd beg, borrow, and steal from anyone capable if I was the one in your situation, even if the odds were a hundred to one. I'll give you one chance, Alastor, to fix your wrongdoing. But I can't promise it'll go how you want it to. You know that."

Alastor

He lets out a laugh that almost sounds like a sob. "One slim chance is more than I ever dreamed I'd get! Five seconds, one word, that's all it'll take, and the universe changes!" He seizes both her hands as he jumps to his feet, beaming broadly. Behind him three different songs are trying to play simultaneously. "A water spirit from a place without a Hell—I should have known, the moment I met you!"

Valera

Oh, dear gods, what has she signed up for? What is she doing? She couldn't even regret the decision, the sheer ecstasy on Alastor's face was near heartbreaking in its sincerity. The absurdity of it all forces a chuckle out of her, hands squeezing his as she indulgently clambers off the couch.

Great! Two idiots holding hands in the middle of the room while the invisible orchestra goes buckwild! This is great! It's fine! Her chuckle is more of a wheeze, but she smiles indulgently. "Known what, my dear?"

Alastor

"That—never mind, Earth things—that you can help! That's all!" Get ready, it's dancing time, Alastor is pulling Valera into a waltz. An extremely enthusiastic waltz. "So how's it done—what's it going to take?!"

Valera

Let it be said that Valera always enjoys a good waltz, and especially when it distracts her from the gut feeling that she's just agreed to do something awfully selfish that nobody would approve of. Now THERE'S something she hasn't felt in a while! But no, she's falling into step with Alastor for their merry The King and I moment, a genuine smile breaking out across her face at his gleeful energy.

"Not as much as you may think, dear fellow! I'll need to gather materials to build the anchor and casting line, and you'll need as much hell energy as you can muster to manifest yourself strongly in the time as possible. Do you have something significant you associate with that day? A possession we could use as an antenna, more or less? It would let us focus in so I could try and take you there as precisely as possible."

Alastor

His dancing slows as he thinks. What does he associate with that day? A quilt. A robe. A pipe organ. Tea. Cold. A scent he'll never smell again. "Does it need to be a literal possession from that day? Or would a symbolical representative be close enough? I didn't keep souvenirs." He has nothing from that day but the clothes on his back; a coat he'd been wearing since 1933 would make for a poor antenna.

Valera

She purrs, pursing her lips as she considers the question. She shouldn't be excited, but the idea of such a dramatic project was sounding better and better. What was this, if not a test of ability? "Anything you can use to attune yourself should work. A smell, maybe? Human memory is tied to scent pretty strongly. The important part is the emotional tie, something to take you back to that moment, essentially. As long as I know where and when we need to be, I can compensate for one or the other. Ideally not both, that'd be a strain."

Alastor

He stops dancing completely; he's gotta focus. After a moment of thought, he says slowly, "There is a scent. But, there's... no good way to acquire it again. Besides, that moment is... still a couple of seconds before taking action, but after the decision's been made. It might be too late." Not that, then. "Would weather work? Cold?"

Valera

Great! They can just stand there, frozen mid waltz. She'll just sway them back and forth, a nervous tic of her own. "Yes, if that would take you to the moment again, cold would be one of the sensations that would suffice. Would a combination work? Cold, and a sound we could mimic? Something like that?"

Alastor

A sound, what sound? The exact moment he needs to reach—the organ wasn't playing right then, Alastor was by himself. Pacing the hallways.

"Maybe the... the airship. While it's flying." He hasn't been aboard one since then; but he remembers how the sound of the engine underscored everything. "I don't want him—yours—to... to have to hear about this."

Valera

"If you don't want him to, he wont. I promised confidentiality on your terms." She looks around as she gives Alastor's hand a comforting squeeze, glancing from the piano to Alastor and back.

Sound, sound.. "So it was on the airship. I'm familiar with the sound of the mechanics going, the engines humming away. A constant undercurrent. Relaxing, once you get used to it." Thinking about it made her feel at ease, but Alastor seemed to have a very different emotional association with the sound. "Maybe you could reproduce it on your microphone cane?"

Alastor

A nod—yes, yes, yes that's the sound. "One of the airships," Alastor corrects. "Back then, he—" hrmph. He's not getting that sentence out. "My mic doesn't make the sound effects, I do. And it would just be... remembering out loud. I don't know if that would be close enough." A jerky shrug. "I'd say get a recording out of his ship, but... different airship model. The engine might sound different. I'll know when it's flying again."

Valera

She keeps rocking them back and forth, tail slowly curling one way, then the other. "I see! So, what would you like to do, then? I hope you aren't going to ask me to slip my way onto your Pentious' airship circa the time period and try to grab a recording. I don't much fancy the idea of trying to pass myself off as an egg."

Alastor

"No, absolutely not. It's unthinkable." The only, only reason Alastor would even consider going back there would be this one time, to fix what he'd broken. Not for any other reason. Even sending someone as his proxy was too much. "We can wait until yours has finished his repairs. If it sounds the same, wonderful. If not... we'll figure out a plan B then."

Valera

"Sounds like a plan! You focus on getting hell energy, and I'll get the materials. We'll see how Penny's ship shapes up." Another squeeze to his hand, and she leans in to bump against him, trying to get him to look her in the eyes. "I promise, Alastor, as friend and fae. I'll do everything we decide I should to make this work in your favor. You're my friend, and I do genuinely want you to be happy." Okay Val just say that I guess.

Alastor

Oh. He grimaces and endures the bump. Well he was making eye contact, maybe he will again once he gets his personal space back.

"Then consider my happiness optional. I had my chance and I blew it. I don't need another chance." Not in Hell. Not even with fae help. "But he had his chance taken from him. That's what I plan to fix."

Valera

The message got across, no need to stay in his personal bubble. Being close to people who were viscerally uncomfortable always made her scales crawl, it was downright nauseating after long enough.

"Good gods, you're head over heels for him, aren't you my dear fellow? But very well. If those are the terms you want met, I will put his own happiness as my priority for this venture." Ooh, that's a little ominous. Maybe she should reword that? A glance at Alastor.. No, she'll leave it. "Well, our game plan is set. Now, I believe you owe me a story, dear fellow."

Alastor

He endures the vicious accusation without a flinch. He has no argument against it, anyway, except for his perpetual simmering indignation over the fact that it's true.

"Not a story; just an explanation." Might as well step back. They're not dancing anymore and he can use the added space. "At a point, I had to choose whether to stay forever or go forever. I chose to go." He's whittled away at what's a massive tree of a tale until it's a toothpick, small enough to squeeze out of his throat. "Of course, he's—stubborn. You know him. If I'd simply left, he would have pursued. I had to convince him I wasn't worth following." He huffs. "So I told him he bored me and blew up his fleet."

He spreads his hands as a little fanfare sound effect plays. Tadaaa.

https://youtu.be/bjxf-eQWKoo

YouTube

baniger3711

SOUND EFFECT TADA

Valera

Alastor may have gone out of his way to make the explanation as unimpressive as possible, but the look Valera gives him is one of pure horror. She backs away, gracelessly flopping back onto the couch and very deliberately taking up her tea to give herself something to do.

Her mind runs through the idea of wounding her own fiancé like that, betraying him so completely at the peak of his game. The damage that would cause would be... Dear gods. Would he even recover from that? No, no. She can't assume Alastor and his own Pentious had a bond like that. But they'd been close. Allies. And he'd clearly been in love, who knew how his Pentious had felt about someone so important. It's hard not to feel a tinge of malice for her friend, but. No, he was many things. Unrepentant wasn't one of them. He knew what he did was wrong. She said she'd help him fix things. By gods, was she going to fix things if it killed him. He might even like that.

"So you lied, and you ran, because.. You were afraid? Of what, your own feelings? The idea of being with him forever?" She snaps a hand up, a barrier between them, and shakes her head. "No, you don't have to answer that. You told me what you did, you answered my question. I've got no business pressing." Her cup is shaking in her grasp. When did that happen?

"I'm going to help you fix this. But I see now why you place his happiness at a higher priority than your own."

Alastor

She's horrified. He's vaguely glad of that. She should be. He knows what he's done, knows it's so monstrous that he can't even feel the monstrosity of it anymore. It's been over half a century. She's reacting the way he ought to every day when he sees himself in a mirror; but it hurts and he's gone numb.

He hopes he's dropped in her estimation.

He nods when she gives him permission not to answer—good, he doesn't want to answer. He doesn't think the answer's relevant. No possible motive short of I'd discovered he'd killed my mother would justify what Alastor had done; and if the motive doen't justify it, then the motive is irrelevant. "Good." His wan smile widens. "So we're on the same page now. Got all our priorities in order."

Valera

She takes a moment before she forces herself to look at him again, eyes sharp and lips set into a thin line. He wanted to fix his mistake. He was desperate to. He was willing to jump through any hoop it took, and she had to remember that. Chant it over and over in her head as she made herself nod. "We are." A slow breath in, a hold, and a slower exhale.

"What you did was.. I don't need to tell you. But I think you've beat yourself bloody over it without my help, there's no need for me to salt the wound. You want to make it right. That's the important part." Another breath. She isn't going to lash out. She's better than that, and it wouldn't help anyone. "You are my friend. I want to help you fix this horrible, awful mistake. Because it was a mistake. You chose wrong, and you've had to live with that ever since. When Pentious' airship is flying, we will review this. Shake my hand."

There are no pyrotechnics. No magical flair of lights or ominous humming, nothing to mark the moment binding as she extends a hand towards Alastor. Only the look in her eyes, and the unnatural stillness of her frame.

Alastor

He has fallen. Good. He should. And it means if things start to go wrong, she'll have a higher chance of trying to make sure things fall apart in a way that benefits who it's supposed to rather than in a way that benefits her "friend."

He'll be the one to mark it as binding, then. The lights around his hand are subdued compared to his usual glow; just a few little green threads coiling around and between his fingers.

He shakes without hesitation. He doesn't know what's put on the line in a bargain with a Veci—but this is the one, the only thing he'd sell his soul for.

Valera

The smile she forces is sickly sweet. The grip on his hand curling in until her claws are digging marks into his glove. But she releases before any damage is caused. Even now, she wouldn't hurt him unnecessarily. Anger isn't enough.

"Good. Until we review our terms, the only thing I ask is that you remain a good friend to my love. He thinks highly of you, and the bond you share is good for both of you. Rest assured, after I leave this room, I will treat you as I always have. He will hear nothing about this from me."

Alastor

Oh, he's plummeted. He takes a long, slow breath in. Okay. He understands. This isn't a friendship he deserves.

At her request, his breath catches. His eyes widen. Even after, she'd still trust him with...? "I..." His voice is thick with distortion; he tries to clear his throat with a staticky noise. "I—would do nothing less." He examines the marks on the back of his glove; then clasps his trembling hands behind his back and stands straighter. "I'd do anything I can, for him." Borderline unintelligible beneath the static. Shameful. His station would have been inundated with angry letters if they'd ever broadcast such a poor signal.

Valera

There it is. What she'd been waiting for. The disbelief, the raw emotion. A genuine show of weakness, intentional or no, at the barest trace of kindness he knew from the bottom of his miserable heart that he didn't deserve. Just what she needed. Somewhere, a balance tips.

Her smile turns, as soft and warm as ever, and she raises those same claws to cover her mouth as she chuckles. "I know, Alastor. I've made mistakes too. Nothing exactly like yours, but.." A shrug. "Mistakes that cost me dearly. Don't worry. I'm angry, and I'll need time to really absorb what you've told me here, but you're always welcome in my home. We'll fix this."

Alastor

The switch is too fast. He can't trust it. Suddenly it's only "mistakes." Suddenly it's merely "angry." Suddenly it's "welcome." Either it's a performance worthy of the Academy, or it's true—and of the two possibilities, the latter is infinitely worse. He's afraid that one's true.

He opens his mouth to speak, but he thinks if he tries it will just come out as static. He turns away sharply, and nods without showing Valera his face.

Valera

Oh, this poor man has no idea what to do with himself! She should at least put on a better face about it, but.. No. He'll have to realize at some point, that her emotions are purely her own to process, act on, or shove down into a tiny box and stomp on as she sees fit. Oh, if Pentious could see her he'd be shaking her by the shoulders by now.

She sighs, moving back to the piano to reorganize her sheet music. A polite disengagement, a chance to collect himself while she's busy. "I believe it's your turn now, Alastor. Though I can't imagine you coming up with a question in your current state."

Alastor

In your current state. That's galling enough that now he has to take his turn. "Wh—What—" pardon the interference, "—will it be like—on my end? Do I teleport back? Do I—ride my younger self?"

Valera

She cannot believe that worked. But it's a fine question, and the answer may distract him.

"If I were creating a branching reality, which would be the easy route, I'd take you back on a physical level and you'd simply march up to your younger self and tell him what for. Or kill him and attempt to take his place, I suppose, but that tends to work out very poorly."

A scoff. Oh, to be a being who had more than one version of themselves to worry about. "With what we're attempting, I'd essentially be melding your mind into that of your younger self. Like overlaying old film. Your time appropriate memories would be the most vivid, but you'd keep your current knowledge as reference, including our deal to send you back in the first place. A bit recursive, perhaps, but I'm not a temporal being."

Alastor

A pause. "Melding" sounds a little permanent. "And—at the end—how do we... get old me out of young me's head?"

Valera

"Well my dear, I'm surprised you'd even want to, when it would be so easy to crush you into one being, but the answer is simple!" She glances over her shoulder, grinning with all of her teeth. "I pull him out like a worm from the mud!"

Alastor

"Of course I want to. I don't get to stay there." Still turned away, he roughly wipes his face with the back of his sleeve. "Not after what I've done. But, the me as I was then—his conscience is clean. Let him reap the benefits alone."

Like a worm from the mud. How fitting.

Valera

She twitches, then reaches into her pocket for a handkerchief. Was this one of the ones she stole from Pentious? Yes. But she'll float it over to him anyway, like a tiny ghost. She'll even use it as a prop, dancing it around as she speaks. "And what am I to do with your current self, my dear Alastor? Keep you around like a leashed trophy, a wisp tied to no reality for my own amusement? That seems heartless, and I'll have you know that I've got four hearts."

Alastor

That's definitely one of Sir Pentious's. He snatches it out of the air. Valera's never getting it back.

"Toss me in the trash when I'm done." He laughs bitterly. "By all logic, I ought to disappear with my reality, oughtn't I? As far as things are concerned from your point of view, I'll just suddenly be upgraded to a better version of myself—less baggage, fewer regrets, and consort to the new king of Hell, hah."

He finally turns back around. Still smiling. Pay no mind to the slight redness around his eyes. Have you seen his eyelids?—that redness was probably always there maybe.

Valera

That's fine, she can steal more. Besides, better than using his sleeves. "Were it that easy, dear fellow! But I am not part of this reality, I'm a guest. I'll remember all of our dealings, like I've remembered every dealing I've had. I could toss you out, but why would I? The you that I know is the you that is a friend to my beau. The new you would be unpredictable. Is there any insurance, any reason for me to believe you would still be so kind?"

Alastor

Alastor considers that a moment. "Tell me you're a water spirit, the same way you did the first time we met, and tell me you sent the messenger who kept me from making a stupid mistake. There's your insurance."

It won't guarantee he'll be kind. But unless he changes beyond recognition, it will at least guarantee he'll be respectful enough not to be an enemy.

Valera

Valera mulls it over, turning it round and round in her mind as she approaches Alastor once more. This was too serious for playful distractions. And finally, she nods.

"Very well, Alastor. If you're so willing to sign your existence over to me for destruction, I'll try to play my part." Or something close enough, anyway. "For now, I suggest you do your best to get used to my company. We'll be seeing quite a bit of each other in the coming weeks."

Alastor

That's what he's doing, isn't it? Destruction. Hah. At least he's taking down a whole universe with him, that's something.

No, not destruction; replacement. With a better version of himself. The worst decades of his life scrubbed off like they'd never happened—like he'd never caused them. Cheating the game on a cosmic order. He is going to survive this, and he's going to get everything he wants.

"You say that like it's going to be a chore." He scoffs. "I have no reason to resent your company. I suggest you do your best to get used to mine."

Valera

Now it's HER turn to scoff. "Alastor, my good man, every day I wake up and you didn't sneak into my bed to try and cozy up to Pentious is a day I wake up surprised. We are from very different cultures with very different standards."

Alastor

"Well." Rueful laugh. "If he'd ever invited me to, you'd never get rid of me."

Just saying that out loud sends a shock of alarm through his system; even though there's hardly anything left to hide now, even though he's not saying anything that she doesn't already know.

Valera

Who knew all it took to get direct responses from Alastor was offering him his deepest desires and making him cry? It was so simple all along, how hadn't anyone else thought of it?

"Well! I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Now, I think we've had more than enough excitement for one day, don't you? Unless you've got any other questions you feel are pressing at this current time."

Alastor

Admittedly, the crying was optional.

And make no mistake—the only reason he's offering a direct response now is because he remembers full well that her encouragement is why Sir Pentious offered friendship in the first place. If there's the slightest chance that Sir Pentious would like a second guest in his bed and he conveys that info to Valera, she'll remember this conversation.

He racks his brain. "Poor interviewer that I am, I think I've run out of questions for my interviewee! Although I admit you've been less an interviewee and more an interrogator." Modest studio audience laugh; Alastor's getting back in character. "No queries, but one humble request: the next time you plan to rub my nose in my dirty laundry, let me take the first turn on the piano, would you?"

Valera

She snickers, but makes a show out of curtsying deeply in a grand show of apology. Yes, this is more comfortable. An emotional barrier by virtue of theatrics, something they both knew well. This was good. "I'll do my best, dear Alastor, but is it required after every piano recital, or can I enjoy your talents without the dramatics and emotional anguish?"

Popping back up, she tips her fins forward, then back, quirking one side of her mouth up until the dimple showed. "Oh, I should probably give you some form of resistance to my toxins, hm? I doubt we'll be touching each other often of our own free will, but being in close quarters to Penny means being close to me."

Alastor

Dramatics? The nerve. "The more recitals that conclude without my sins being flung back in my face, the better! I'm a comic actor—I'm just not suited to star in tragedies!"

Exactly how close are the quarters she's expecting to be in? He shrugs. "I'll never say no to a spare antidote. Or whatever it is you're offering...?"

Valera

"I could offer an injectable antitoxin in emergencies, but in your case, I think an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." And now Alastor gets the pleasure of watching Valera go back to her own cup of tea, slam back the liquid like a shot, and then crush the cup in her fist. Then she turns back and he has a tiny bottle of pills shoved at him, Valera's emblem emblazoned on the lid.

"You get seven. Take one of these each time you anticipate being at risk of my toxins. They're take ten minutes to set in, they're effective for twelve hours, and they wont save you from ALL the symptoms, but they'll stop the worst of it. Don't expose them to high heat, it'll melt the casing off and then the magic will explode out violently."

Alastor

She's basically guaranteed that he's going to drop one of these in a cooking pot on a campfire and then watch from a hill with binoculars.

He examines the bottle curiously. "You simply must teach me how you make these."

Valera

He should. She did, and it was incredible.

The pills inside are the size of a pinkie nail, white and round with a pearlescent.. Actually, they just look like pearls. Did she give him a bottle of pearls? She might have. "You want to learn how to make an antitoxin? Or the magic behind it?" She'd be willing either way, she's VERY proud of her accomplishment.

Alastor

"Both, obviously! A form of magic I haven't played with yet and the ability to brew up my own antitoxin so I don't have to pester you for more after every few visits? Why would I pass up on either?"

Valera

"Hah! Fair enough. Alright. Next time we visit, your place or mine, I'll teach you. I'd love to see if you could master it, I had to create the technique myself and it is quite the hodgepodge." Alastor's going to have to learn to extract toxins from a fish, oh boy.

Alastor

"Everything I know is a hodgepodge! I look forward to the challenge." And he's going to love doing it.

Valera

Well, that's all she can think of-- Oh wait. "Alastor, while we're on the subject, did you want a sampling of Veci flesh to try? Not mine, unfortunately, but the fellow that Pentious disposed of. I saved a sample for you, but never thought to offer it up."

Alastor

"I'd be delighted to! I hope the sample comes with a recommended recipe or two?"

Valera

A dainty gasp, mock offense painted on her face. "As if I'd ever neglect you so terribly! I transcribed a few of my favorites over into English, just for you." She claps her hands, and presents Alastor with a torso sized chunk of tail, chopped straight from the bastard himself and neatly wrapped in cheesecloth and cooking twine. Craving seafood, Alastor?

Alastor

Always.

He accepts the bundle with a gracious half-bow. "As always, a pleasure to deal with you." And one of Sir Pentious's kills, no less. My, my. He looks forward to finally hearing that story.

Valera

A pleasure to deal with her? Of course it was. "Of course! Now. Recipes are on the table, help yourself to the venison. I'd best be off, Penny's sure to get lost in his own mind if I don't check in and harass him to rest. I'll be seeing you, my dear."

Alastor

He glances at the table, almost says something, then just nods. "Until next time."

Valera

And she's off, gone in the blink of an eye back to.. Wherever she was going.

Alastor

And Alastor goes to pick up the recipes and venison from the table... then instead sets down the chunk of tail meat, sinks onto the couch, and stares at nothing.

[shandaumath]

Master

{The following is a retelling of RP that occurred largely between Vynlorin and @cerusaniduskbinder with a few points from @aredhelvaltieri and @barirnshadowwind, and @sparrow-of-arnud​ and @nivathostin​ for mentions. 

Very little has been altered from the original RP only for the sake of storytelling flow.}

[A simple parchment was posted on the notice board in the late afternoon. Very few words were written, but the words posted there were large and elegant and demanded attention. The seal of House Shandaumath sat at the bottom of the notice.]

WANTED: Hemomancer

Any who can provide reliable information on the whereabouts of a hemomancer will be handsomely rewarded. Further inquiries should be redirected to Master Vynlorin Shandaumath.

Search with haste. Time is of the essence.

...

“Master Vynlorin. When you have time I have information you are looking for.”

Cerusani’s voice rang out through the communication device that Vynlorin hated so much. He set aside the scroll of hemomancy that he had been researching and clicked the little button on the device attached beneath his shoulder pads.

“I have time now.”

“I am finishing up an appointment. I will be available in about ten minutes.”

He pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose. Another meeting with Cerusani, and it would end with just as much disappointment as the rest. But he couldn’t risk not seeing her. The fate of the sickly Ithildir depended on this hunt.

“Find me in Thornwood.”

Vynlorin left his books and scrolls in an organized mess and retreated from his study only to greet Nivathostin who had been standing outside as patiently as ever. The man had few interests and fewer words, and the master of the house had grown fond of him.

“Come, Nivathostin. We have a guest tonight.” As if being beckoned like a dog, the blue-haired ren’dorei following behind his master, and the pair made way into the dining hall for preparations.

....

It wasn’t long before Cerusani made her way into the room with classical Cerusani confidence. Her shoulders were back with her head held high even though she knew who she was meeting.

“Master Vynlorin. I made it here as quickly as I could. Thankfully I was just across the way and not in the city.” She did not dare take a seat anywhere as she waited for the man to acknowledge her presence.

The table was empty except for the bottle of Dalaran Red and two glasses beside it. One had already been filled and teased by the master of the house while the other remained cold and empty in anticipation of the coming guest. Aside from the usual servants that stood idle along the walls, Vynlorin was not alone. Next to his seat stood a thin ren’dore who, although far too skinny, seemed in decent health. The man boasted short blue hair and steady eyes that were unwavering in their inspection upon Cerusani when she arrived, but Vynlorin met her with a curious gaze as he waved to the empty seat nearest to her.

“Of course. Have a seat.”

A servant peeled himself from the wall with quick feet and reached for the bottle of wine and empty glass, pouring the woman her drink as she settled in.

Cerusani wasted no time in taking the offered seat with grace as she sat upon the wood which made a small noise. The servant who had poured the wine offered it up to Cerusani and she took it by the stem. “Thank you.” The two small words were offered to the servant before she began to swirl the delectable wine that they both enjoyed. However, Cerusani did not look at the wine but instead flitted her violet eyes between Master Vynlorin and the unknown man.

“Is he the one you need the hemomancer for? I thought it was Ithildir. That would be odd though as I told Ithildir what I knew two nights ago.” A brow arched as she shifted around the thoughts within her head. Politely she took a sip of the wine.

Vynlorin quirked a brow. “Did you? So you’ve already discussed it with Ithildir while he made no mention of it to me.” His finger gently tapped against the glass, and he entirely ignored the question she posed to him. After a moment of silent thought, he sipped and continued.

“What did he say about it?”

Cerusani sucked in the side of her cheek for a moment, contemplating.

“He said nothing but thank you. I gave him two names. Baron Herke Kruger and Lord Tion Harrowmire.” She relaxed back into the chair as she crossed one leg atop the other. “Baron Kruger once told me that Harrowmire had asked about learning hemomancy after a House of Nobles meeting. That is all I have. Though since it is frowned upon and illegal within Stormwind I am unsure if either are practitioners. It is better a lead than anything else.”

The wine within her glass swirled as she eyed the gaunt unknown man. “Did he want a glass of wine perhaps?”

Vynlorin twisted his lips and pursed them in displeasure as he received the information, but they soon pressed into a line at the attention sent toward the other man. A dismissive hand waved it off as Vynlorin looked up at the other who still remained as still and steady as ever.

“Perhaps Nivathostin’s biggest flaw is his tongue. He is a whiskey man and scorns wine whenever I offer it to him.”

There was no hiding the surprise on Cerusani’s face as she set the wine down on the table. Her eyes directly stared at Nivathostin as if seeing a made up story one only hears about once in a few moons.

“Nivathostin. Aredhele’s Nivathostin? I thought he was dead. Aredhele has always spoken of him as if he was dead. Not that she did it often. One time.” The words were low and wonderous.

Nivathostin couldn’t help but sneer at the name while his nose raised high as if he had just been insulted. “Perhaps it was always her goal,” he mused quietly with malice thick in his voice.

Vynlorin returned his gaze to his glass and allowed a snake-like grin to spread wide against his lips before chiming in. “I wasn’t aware you knew of him, Cerusani. How curious.” The master then motioned for Nivathostin to sit while waving the servants forward. “Do get a bottle of whiskey for Nivathostin here.”

With the command, the younger men scurried to the liquor cabinet, retrieved a dark bottle, and brought it to the table where they poured it into a glass and offered it to the blue-haired man taking a seat.

Cerusani finally broke her gaze away from Nivathostin and brought the eyes down to her wine glass. The ripples from the swirling radiated outward to the edges as she thought.

“I do not know much. Just the name. I know better than to ask more right now. Even if I did you would not tell me, Master Vynlorin.” As if the words parched her throat like Tanaris, Cerusani brought the wine to her lips drinking a healthy portion of it. As the glass was brought down she shifted in her seat, seeming as if she was no longer comfortable in the room. “Ithildir is dying. He had me run across Stormwind last night to fetch a potion for him. He is in no condition to fight on Sunday.”

Vynlorin shook his head at Cerusani, and Nivathostin fell silent once more as he sipped at the sweet escape of whiskey now snuggled within his hand.

“Nivathostin has had a rough few years, Cerusani, and we will do our best to make sure he’s comfortable. Let’s leave this as our little secret for now, yes?” The warlock’s predatory gaze fell heavily against the woman as his own silent threat, and the look only softened after he sipped back another dose of poison. “Ithildir is dying, yes, which is why it’s important that we find someone or something that can cure him quickly. You would do well not to fight him just as I must stay my own hand until he can recover.”

Cerusani knew the gaze that he cast upon her with the words of warning. Silence fell between the trio for a while with the only sound coming from Cerusani being the tapping of her nails atop the table.

“You want me to keep a secret for you. What do I get out of it? You’ve cast me aside. You call me a cat. You call me a disappointment. What do I get from this arrangement?” She rolled her shoulders back trying to give her the look of confidence she had when entering the room. “From your request I surmise that Lady Aredhele does not know he is here. Perhaps no one but you knows.” A brow arched as the words were pointed directly at the man.

Nivathostin paused his sip as he stared steadily at Cerusani, his breath remaining stuck in his lungs as he awaited the master’s response. Vynlorin too paused as his gaze fell into slits at the dare, and it was as if the room grew colder with a devilish curl of his lips.

“Quite simply, Cerusani, you get to keep your freedom.”

Cerusani set her wine glass down atop the table.

“I want more than that.”

Arms crossed beneath her chest as the two seemed to be in a stalemate. “You can do better, Vynlorin.” This was the first time in months that she had dropped the respect of his title.

All the servants in the room froze, stuck as statues as the tension in the air gripped their rapidly-beating hearts. Nivathostin too could feel the wrath of the master despite his innocence in the conversation. Vynlorin curled that devilish grin wider, and his wicked thoughts flashed before his eyes and danced in his mind as he considered his next move.

“Cerusani. I understand you enjoy being beaten. Perhaps you would like to demonstrate for everyone in this room what it’s like to be the subject of a lesson in disobedience.”

Cerusani should have known better and did know better but still she doubled down.

“No. I do not think I will be the subject of one of your lessons.”

The defiance flickered in her eyes as she took a moment to look from the Master to Nivathostin. Her right hand uncurled from underneath her chest and dipped into her pocket. As the hand came up from the table she held tightly onto her small communication device, finger pressed upon the button. “Lady Aredhele.”

“Yes, Cerusani?” Lady Aredhele’s voice rang out.

She took her finger off the button and cocked her head to the side once more looking at Master Vynlorin. “You can do better. Pick your next words carefully because there are different pieces to this puzzle I could pull out and say to Lady Aredhele right now.”

There was no going back. Cerusani had put this into motion.

Vynlorin squinted at the device as he heard the woman’s words ring out against his own ear from beneath his pauldrons. A soft sigh flooded from his nostrils, but he didn’t pity the woman’s fate that she had just sealed.

“Very well.”

And then, with a gentle utter beneath his breath, the shadows beneath Cerusani’s seat wriggled to life and crawled up the back of her chair only to wrest the woman’s neck backwards with its long, gangly claws. The shadowfiend crawled with tendrils and inches of nails that fashioned into claws, and it sought to squeeze the air from her neck while threatening to pierce the flesh. Nivathostin watched with dark eyes that were far too curious to hold sympathy for the woman, but the servants all sent their gazes downward and held their frightened breaths.

Cerusani pressed the button of the communication device. With all that she had left in her she squeezed out a sound.

“NIVAT-”

The word did not finish as the clawed shadows dug deeper, crushing her throat even more. With that the device fell out of her hand as the woman’s body began to grow limp.

When the radio clicked on again, the sound of broken glass was heard. Then, all was silent. Too silent. The radio connection opened after a long pause and the melodic buzz of static replaced Aredhele’s voice. There was too much emotion. Too many thoughts rushed to her mouth and she spat out with all the passion she could muster. “Where. Is. He?”

Vynlorin slammed his glass against the table and pushed himself to his feet with more fury than she would have ever seen before. His face grew dark like the very demons he commanded, and a quick flick of his wrist snuffed out every torch in the dining hall.

“Cerusani.”

That one single word dragged against the infinite dark of the shadows that now wrapped around them with the weight of every vile thought that had ever crossed the warlock’s mind. Nivathostin inhaled a deep breath that hitched itself in his throat with all the others who were unfortunate enough to be trapped in the cage with the beast and its prey.

“I am so disappointed in you.”

The woman’s eyes fluttered for a moment, taking in the darkness as it came. The little breathing that she was able to manage began to slow, become shallower. Her body limper with each passing second.

"It seems she has not responded. Would you like for me to find her, Lady Valtieri?" Barirn’s voice called out from the device.

“No no, that is alright. I will find her myself tomorrow.”

The shadowfiend grew stronger in the darkness, but its life was short-lived and soon dispersed into the rest of the room only to be replaced by the warlock’s own hand wrapped tightly around her neck. He held her firmly but allowed her breaths to trickle through so she could feel every word he uttered against her ear, his breath hot and heavy beside her.

“You could have shown me that you were capable of doing anything right, but now you’ll just be another pet to hang on my wall.”

The darkness flooded through her nostrils and reached deep into her soul, transcending flesh and breaking the barrier between life and death. His other fingers reached into his robes and pinched an empty soul shard that now glowed with anticipation for its new prisoner, and he muttered a dark and vile language as the ritual continued.

Everything within Cerusani began to twist and ache as her very source of life broke apart from her while the warlock reeled it out, slowly, slowly, until it screeched when it broke into the air and was dragged into the little shard. With nothing to see, the rushing wind that whirled within the room struck hard against the dulled senses of everyone within it, and the cold of the Nether skittered like static across their flesh.

Cerusani felt every little part of her body as Vynlorin worked his magic upon her. Her long lashes fluttered open to see the darkness of the room while the violet orbs looked as if the woman was in the depths of pure agony. Each passing moment Cerusani’s soul left her and entered the shard within Vynlorin’s grasp until there was nothing of it left inside her. Her throat beneath his hand moved as she swallowed to get out anything but nothing came.

The thoughts. The words. Everything stuck within Cerusani as her eyes fluttered closed once more. Nivathostin shuddered at the sensation of the Twisting Nether breaking through into the room, and the familiar touch of death and lost souls made his stomach churn.

Once the shard had fully sealed the soul within it, it sparked in a brilliant flash of light before falling into a soft purple glow that revealed the suffering soul within it. The anger mingling with the unnatural magics gave rise to Vynlorin’s own nausea, but he ignored it as adrenaline still pulsed within him and forced his hand to backhand the woman who had riled him so.

“You are no longer a student. No longer an acquaintance. You are a worthless animal who will learn her place.

The backhand from Vynlorin sent Cerusani’s slumping body to the stone of the floor. For a long while she laid on the cool stone before she began to come about. Her body convulsed as her skin began to glisten. The first attempt at righting her body failed with her body crumpling to the ground once more.

A retching sound came from her throat even with it being so dry. The dark floor was spewed with the wine she had consumed, and a mixture of her dinner of stew one of the villagers had made for her. The stench just before her nose prompted her to try to get up once more. Her weakened body managed to sit up as she looked around, finally settling on Vynlorin.

“Yo-.”

She had to pause a moment.

“Take everything.”

It made no sense perhaps to the men before her but it did to Cerusani. Shaking hands grasped at the chair trying to pull her to her feet, and after a few moments Cerusani was upon legs that felt like a baby deer.

“Ca-can I go now?” The view of the woman now was scant but a memory of the woman who had walked into the room with confidence.

Vynlorin stepped through the darkness, pushing the chair with his foot so he could take another step closer. That wicked hand rushed to the back of Cerusani’s neck to slam her head down against the table like a prisoner beneath his grip.

“You will address me properly.”

While keeping her head steady with one hand, the warlock returned the filled shard to its place in his robes before flicking that wrist to spark the torches alive again. The darkness fled with the flames so that Cerusani could see her captor looming above her.

Cerusani felt the impact of the wooden table against her face. Once more her stomach began to retch but there was no longer anything to give. Her body radiated with shivers as she looked up to the imposing man she had goaded into being the demon she knew lived somewhere in him. With the grasp of his hand on the back of her neck it felt as if she was his puppet when the words came out next.

“Ma-may I go now, M-m-master Vynlorin?” It was a struggle as every fiber of Cerusani ached.

Vynlorin kept her there a moment longer as he considered her plea.

“No.”

He responded with the same confidence that she had uttered to him when she damned herself to this fate. “Guards!” he barked, and the two men who had been guarding the outside of the door rushed in. “Take her to the dungeon. I’ll be along shortly.”

Each bulky man gripped an arm and yanked Cerusani with them, seeking to drag her along if her own feet couldn’t keep up. Vynlorin brushed the filth of the woman from his hands and waved Nivathostin to follow along.

Cerusani could not keep up as her feet dragged across the floor.

“Master Vynlorin. I wo-won’t say anything. Pleas-please.”

The words were the last things that left her lips as one of the guards smacked her on the back of her head, and she fell silent while they descended the stairs.

[iinfortunii]

rules: code of conduct.

BEGIN.

Before we start, I would like you to have certain things in mind when approaching me ooc. I am very shy and quite awkward, which results in me not being much of a talker; however, I will always try my best to be friendly to whoever wants to approach. I dislike pet names so please do not use them with me unless we are very close. There will be times when I'm just exhausted, so my wording could sound rude/aggressive, to which I apologize in advance -I never mean to hurt people’s feelings. I also reserve the right to interact with WHOEVER I want, and pestering me about it will only get you blocked.

Updates will be made as required.

I. BASIC.

A. This blog is: Selective / Independent / Canon Divergent / NSFW / Mutuals only / Singleship / Mostly iconless / Multiverse / AU, Crossover, OC, and Multimuse friendly / Vaguely affiliated with the OP RP fandom.

B. I am a very slow rper for many reasons —school, family, my ever-fluctuating mood —and I would appreciate it if you refrained from pestering me for replies. In return I offer as much patience as necessary. Think of this blog as low activity please.

C. English is not my mother language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes made.

D. I track the tag #iinfortunii, although mentioning me works just as fine.

E. Constructive criticism is always welcome but anon hate will be immediately deleted. I have no problems if you disagree with my portrayal, but it doesn't give you the right to harass me.

F. Mun and muse are both over 18, so there are chances that heavy content will be present; however I won't be writing smut. I can roleplay anything before or after the act if requested, but the moment things get far too explicit, I'll do a fade-to-black. I ask of you to not lie about your age or else you’ll be blocked indefinitely.

G. This is a heavily headcanon-based blog, and changes are likely to be made as more information is revealed about him, though I reserve the right to adjust the new information according to my interpretation of Deuce or simply ignore it, which is why I’m canon divergent.

H. If you'd like to turn an ask into a thread, you can turn it into a new post, or reblog from me, as I won't be using the Tumblr asks anymore due to the problems that come with formatting and such.

I. Ask box is open for everyone ic or ooc, but you aren't allowed to turn it into a thread and nor I will reply to it if we’re not mutuals. Please don't push me, because I won't hesitate to block.

J. No godmoding —only a minor is allowed if it moves a thread forward —or metagaming, please. Don't kill Deuce either, unless plotted beforehand, and most importantly, don't hold your muse back.

K. Discord is available for mutuals upon request.

L. Just because I write something it does not mean I condone it. Please have this in mind and again, do not pester me about it. Any and all nsfw matters will be tagged accordingly. There will be triggering topics present, and you can know more about this on the section below.

M. DO NOT involve me in drama or call-out posts. I’m heavily against both things. On this note, you’ll never see me rebloging a call-out post. This culture is so damaging and toxic, and I firmly believe no one should play the role of the judge for the good of the community just because you had issues with someone or don’t agree with the things they roleplay. Talk things privately, be mature about it, hard-block the person and move on. I am also very aware that a lot of people have done things that can’t be excused, but I like to believe that people can change for the better. If you try to drag me into it, I'll hard block any and all people involved indefinitely.

II. TRIGGERS.

A. They will be tagged as trigger tw, trigger / and trigger cw.

B. I do my best to stay up to date with my mutuals triggers. Your comfort is way more important to me than you might think, so never be hesitant to approach me via IM, (anonymous) ask or stop following me.

C. Triggers that are likely to appear, although some more than others: violence || blood || death || drugs || abuse || knives || body image || medical equipment || suggestive content || etc

D. I have no triggers, so you are free to go wild with your content. I only ask you remember to tag your nsfw (both written and visual), please.

III. INTERACTIONS.

A. Deuce won't like everyone. He might/will make wrong assumptions about your character. He will insult and bite back. He won't always be nice to those he likes. He does many things that serve his interests. You, as the mun, have no reason to take it personal, because I'm won't follow someone I don't like; if you DO take it personal however, and decide to rouse drama, then I'll be hard-blocking you. Goes for me as well —I have no reason to get angry for any of the things noted above.

B. My bonds page displays the relationships that have been built over time, not necessarily through interaction alone but over plotting as well. Refer to it for more information.

C. Interactions with OCs related to canon characters will only take place as long as said OCs have a detailed about page. Personally, I'm not interested in the idea of an OC being blood-related to my portrayal, so I apologize in advance.

D. Formatting isn’t a big thing across my blogs, save for the small text. Please don’t mix either sup/sub with small text when writing with me, as I have eyesight problems. Don’t use colored text either.

E. Non-romantic pre-established relationships are allowed! Just make sure to talk it out with me first, yeah?

01. Spade / Whitebeard pirates (canon and original characters alike that i am MUTUALS with) will have a pre-established relationship as long as the other mun is comfortable with such idea, though that relationship will be limited to merely crewmates, unless discussed otherwise.

F. You don’t need to match my writing length as long as I’m given enough to work with. If something about my reply bothers or doesn’t work with you, let me know and I’ll re-work it.

G. I really enjoy plotting scenarios or talking out about the relationships my muse could have with other muses, so hit me up if you’ve got any ideas! I’ll try to do the same!

H. Mun does not equal muse, so don’t go assuming I’m a jerk simply because Deuce is an asshole from time to time. I’m set on the idea that I’ll give people the same treatment they give me —which is always nice and kind. Kudos to everyone for this ♡

I. I don’t use a threadtracker because I rely on my memory (terrible mistake, I know), but I try to draft people’s replies as soon as I see them. If by any reason it seems like I lost it, then please let me know / send me a link with it and I’ll be deeply grateful.

J. I don’t do nor reply to greetings starters for matters of my own comfort, so I ask of you to never expect a starter or a reply from them.

IV. SHIPPING.

A. Singleship, with the spot taken by daadzi, which means Deuce is no longer open for romantic relationships.

01. Under no circumstances, I will accept more romantic relationships once the spot is taken. That being said, I won’t discourage your muse from falling for / hitting on him, although I ask you to understand he will never respond with the same interest or will never react gently if he’s pushed too far.

02. If my shipping partner is comfortable enough, I'll interact with duplicates with the condition that the relationship is strictly platonic.

B. Constant interaction, mutual interest, and chemistry are a must for the sake of better communication (both ic and ooc, preferably).

C. Please do not approach me if you wish our characters to have either a: one night stand or friends with benefits type of relationships. It won’t work out due to the nature of Deuce’s personality, and for that I apologize.

E. My ship has its own tag so you're free to block it if you don't want to see it on your dashboard. In addition, I'll also tag those posts with only the ship name for this very purpose.

F. Please do not force ships on me.

V. CELEBRATIONS.

A. First off, I am absolutely terrible at keeping up with dates, and to be frank, I am not the biggest fan of celebrating, which is why I think it’s necessary to say I won’t be partaking in any holidays, not even Deuce’s birthday (not that he has one, to begin with). Obviously I will still reply to any gifts received, and will send out things in return —you know, common courtesy.

B. I won't be sending out birthday gifts every year, and I might write drabbles for people once in a blue moon; it doesn’t mean they will be done for the specific date though, so please be patient.

VI. REASONS TO NOT FOLLOW BACK / UNFOLLOW.

A. Too much drama / call-outs / vague posts / sexual content.

B. Content makes me uncomfortable.

C. You are a personal blog without a visible rp sideblog. Please make sure it's easy to find.

D. You do not have a proper tag system.

E. Your blog doesn’t have a rules and about pages.

F. You lack the manners to deal with people respectfully.

G. I have no interest / lost interest.

H. I'm constantly / only used as a meme archive.

I. Other reasons may apply. I will soft block so we can both cease following each other and avoid any potential awkward situations. I won’t make a fuss if you decide to unfollow so I expect the same courtesy.

VII. ABOUT BEATRICE.

She is not a real person. Her concept as Deuce’s (toxic) pseudolover is my creation and was somewhat inspired from the real life Beatrice Portinari. Do have in mind that Deuce doesn’t talk about her so your muse can’t simply approach him and ask about her unless they can go through his memories / read his mind / any capability alike or he speaks about her, though it won't take a genius to figure out that she's a product of his imagination.

You can read about her by clicking here -link to be added.

She serves as a lie to shield himself from the internalized homophobia he deals with up until meeting Ace.

NOTE: As stated previously, Mun =/= muse, but I too have been dealing with compulsory heterosexuality for far too long, so I'd like to apologize in advance for projecting a bit of that into my portrayal. I'll work so that this part makes sense with what we've been given from Ace's novel.

VIII. MISCELLANEOUS.

A. I will never force people to follow me, so if by any reason you have to unfollow/block me, please go ahead. Your comfort matters and have every right to do what you must to ensure your wellbeing. With that said, I will not tolerate and will immediately hard block if you try to police my content.

B. I do not follow back immediately, and it can take me from a few hours to several days to follow back. Do not take it personally if I choose not to.

C. If I follow it’s because I am interested in interacting. I only ask you to be patient because it might take me a while to gather the courage to send something to your inbox or talk to you.

D. I have. ZERO knowledge about medicine. Don’t expect me to go full force and try to be 100% accurate, because I won’t.

E. I practice reblog karma (send a meme to someone if I’m rebloging it from them). If you see something you’d like to reblog but have no intention in sending something yourself, then please reblog from the source.

IX. FINISH.

Thank you for taking the time to read this! As you might have noticed, there’s no password to send. Make sure to check the psa tag for any updates, or don’t hesitate to send an ask if there’s anything unclear! I do my best so as not to post too much OOC posts, but sometimes it just happens. If it's nothing important, then I'll erase it whenever I have the chance/remember.

Keanu Reeves vc: You’re all breathtaking!

[haleyjames]

i’m very sick at the moment so i’m gonna try and be quick and brief and probably very muddled with this, but:

when someone comes to me with an rpc issue/experience, i listen. even if i don’t know about the rp group/people they’re talking about, i’m still here to listen and offer advice or post warnings, if they want me to. i’ll believe what people are telling me—even if it’s only one side of the story, or one perspective. even if it’s false information. in situations where my only involvement is listening to someone’s personal experience, how am i to know what is the truth or not? if it’s just the truth for them and not the other party, or vice versa? i don’t. but i’m happy to listen to all sides, and share all sides. i’ve done that for however long now and i’m happy to keep doing it, but please please know that i am NOT a mediator. i am not TRYING to get involved, i’m trying to let people be heard and feel seen and validated. that’s it. i’ve said it countless times, but my aim here is for people to share their experiences, get the comfort and validation they deserve, and to warn others away from potentially toxic/abusive/predatory environments and people. that’s it. i am not looking for a resolution—i gave up on that a long time ago. i am not looking to mediate other people’s problems, or to involve myself beyond listening and sharing.

i know this does not devolve me of responsibility FOR sharing and being a mouthpiece for others. i think i’m just trying to say that it can be a hard thing to juggle. it’s one thing for someone to come to you anonymously, when sometimes there can be no stakes whatsoever attached to a message, and it’s another thing for someone to come to you directly, with their name and their url attached and tell of their experience and ask for you to share it. why wouldn’t you believe them? when there’s a risk and vulnerability in someone coming forward and sharing their story? believe survivors!! of course, the situation gets even more tricky when you have people on the other side of things come to you, as well. also with their name and url attached, telling you THEIR truth and experience. when you then have multiple people on BOTH sides telling you their story, and they both have “evidence/receipts” and you can believe everything they all have to say... what do you do?

i don’t know what to do. upon request, i deleted the post in question and was asked to address the situation. i don’t want to involve myself beyond listening and sharing, but in doing so i have. it puts me in the middle of a situation that, in reality, i really don’t know anything about. i know what people tell me (as in, the experiences they share with me) but that’s it. whether that’s the truth or not is really hard for me to distinguish—in the moment and after the fact, once i’ve heard from multiple people involved.

i don’t know where i’m trying to go with this. again, i’m really sick rn and it’s late and my head is a mess... i think this is just to say that i’m not always right, the information i’m given is not always the truth, or right or wrong... i’ve been put in multiple situations now where i have been approached in my dms, off-anonymous, and been told this or that, and it hasn’t always been 100% accurate and i’m fooled into posting or reblogging something that, had i known otherwise, i wouldn’t’ve. i’ve also had plenty of people who have tried to befriend me or get on my “good side” so they wouldn’t be posted about, or so they could then act on a vendetta/personal experience they’ve had with someone else and feed me bullshit so that i then take the brunt of the heat/blame for it. i guess i’m just saying that i know this isn’t perfect!!!! and i know it can be problematic. and i think after this i need to change my approach and set some boundaries.

i know people will message me “give up” or “stop” and i’ll probably be getting hate for this long ass post to begin with, but... i still feel like having these sorts of hiccups and kinks in the system is better than what we had before?? as in, people being silenced and continuously getting bullied and people not KNOWING who they were talking to and rping with and becoming ANOTHER survivor of certain people’s behaviour.... idk, i really don’t want to go back to that. but things need to KEEP changing, yknow? i think, for the sake of my own mental health and safety, i need to just *listen*. offer advice, if people ask for it, but that’s it. listen and share and validate, but not go out on a limb for people by putting myself in the line of fire and fighting the battles for them. i am not a mediator. i am tired of being used by people. i used to post every single ask i received, and after that i realised how unhealthy that was—and how most people exploit and abuse the anon function—i changed my approach. i didn’t answer every message. this is me adding another boundary and making another change. i will be here to listen and validate and warn, but i can no longer personally intervene in matters that i have no actual idea about. i will listen, but i will no longer ACT on anybody else’s behalf... does any of this make sense?? idk. i’m also probably missing a lot of points, i’m sorry!! will add more if i think of anything else. feel free to send me any suggestions/advice/hate etc etc.

[courcgecus]

Being someone who’s rped in tumblr since 2014 and before that years on forums and different platforms playing both canon, oc, good & villanous characters, I cannot scream enough how much people need to appreciate original characters as much as canon. Especially when you can see the effort and all required information is at the hand. It depends greatly on fandom since I have had both successful and quiet oc blogs over time. Same with canon characters, some attract more attention than others. But please please don’t turn away from ocs for the sake of them being “just” ocs. Give a look at their blogs, and if it doesn’t click or there is another issue, then you have your own reasons and choice for it just like we all have our preferences. There’s absolutely no problem with that. Sometimes writing styles just wouldn’t match, or characters wouldn’t work - whatever the reason is. A piece of advice to new role players: please please flesh out your about page if there is no other source of information available for your character ( wiki pages etc. ) & don’t treat your blog like a personal blog since many role players including me don’t want to have their dashes clogged for random posts - of course, there are exceptions but this is my preference why I might not follow you back.Use your blog as an ‘advertisement’ for your character. It doesn’t need to look pretty. If you just go around asking do you want to rp without having much to offer... it’s not going to spark interest. People in general prefer to take time to look at things. Read bios and rules at their own phase. Think how is it realistic to interact with characters of variety. Also respect the fellow role players as people, even if the character they play is someone you love... Now I could ramble about that endlessly once upon a time on my villain blog

[peepingtoad]

@kyugens​ said: Does Jiraiya resent Hiruzen in any way, for the way he handled things regarding Orochimaru, Minato and even Naruto? And even so, is Jiraiya aware of the Third's tendencies to oversee Danzo's vile plans, and how that's affected negatively the village? Does Jiraiya wish he could've done something differently about that? | headcanon asks | always accepting! |

I believe there are a number of things that Jiraiya resents Hiruzen for, the above included—but I think it’s still important, before I go into it, to say that Jiraiya still holds a lot of love and respect for the man, and would never place all the blame on his shoulders for the world’s ills. Especially as he grows older and realises that his own choices during difficult times had consequences, he does have faith that Hiruzen really did have the best interests of the Village at heart... mostly, and even if that in itself was often at odds with his own beliefs of treating people with humanity regardless of where they come from. Even so, he is left in the end with very complex feelings around Hiruzen for a number of reasons.

It’s probably safe to assume that while the Sannin were growing up, they probably thought Hiruzen was the bees knees. I mean, they were being taught personally by the Hokage himself—how cool is that? I believe that Jiraiya considered him very trustworthy, what with Hiruzen being his only male role model, to the point where I headcanon he was the only one Jiraiya told about Gamamaru’s prophecy after he first heard it. This is how I believe a young Jiraiya was allowed to travel the world for a little while even before taking on a genin team of his own (as per filler, which I have happily cherrypicked).

But as far the other scant material we’re given goes, I’d say that the big turning point for them all comes with how the Second War was conducted. Namely, Hiruzen’s refusal to hear Tsunade out regarding the need for more focus on the medical field, which without a doubt shocked Jiraiya (I think I recall seeing him in the background of that scene). He would have expected, being both on the frontlines and close to Hiruzen, that their opinions on the state of affairs would be taken very seriously, so seeing one of their trio being brushed aside definitely stung—and would sting the more their comrades dropped like flies all around them, as realisation sunk in that they were reduced to cannon fodder, with medical support limited to Tsunade and perhaps a few others who had informally discovered a flair for it at the time.

Next comes the relatively light consequences he faced for remaining in Ame for three years to train the orphans, which again Jiraiya (perhaps naively) saw at first as Hiruzen respecting his dreams of realising the prophecy. Given the implication that this is where the Sannin really begin to fall apart, my headcanon is that the years following his return saw him being utilised more for espionage than before, leading him to find his niche as an adept spy... with the downside of not being home enough to reconnect with his friends (whether Tsunade has already gone by that point is variable for me in RP terms, but I like to think she was allowed to stop fighting and establish proper training for medical-nin when it became clear there would be a Third War). 

Of course, there then comes the point where Hiruzen offers Jiraiya the Hokage seat for the first time, which frankly floors him given he’d never expressed an interest before. Worse than that, however, is the fact it drives a more decisive wedge between himself and Orochimaru. This would become a source of resentment as it seemed almost like a deliberate move to pit them against each other or even a cowardly means on Hiruzen’s part to divert Orochimaru’s bitterness away from himself—either that, or the old man was acting on the misguided belief that things were well enough between them that Orochimaru would simply fall into line with Jiraiya becoming the leader. Not to mention, Jiraiya couldn’t help suspecting that there were those who would see him shackled to the village rather than going out into the world and seeking change his own way, rather than the village’s. And after learning what became of Sakumo under Hiruzen’s watch, who could blame him for becoming suspicious of every move?

But I think it’s important to recognise that ROOT, even at this point, was still highly secretive to the point where Jiraiya clearly didn’t have any idea as to its involvement with the death of Yahiko—which, of course, had been reported to Jiraiya as all three of the orphans’ deaths (which I believe was directly and deliberately Danzō’s doing, but for the sake of brevity I’ll maybe go into that another time... tbh I can’t even remember if I’ve written this in a headcanon to date). It wouldn’t be until shortly before the Uchiha Clan Massacre that Jiraiya would gain even an inkling as to how truly bad ROOT was, his only knowledge prior to then being that Orochimaru was able to get away with unethical experiments for so long thanks to being part of ROOT. However by the time the Uchiha Massacre was impending and he confronted his fleeing ex-students, he gained some small insight into the powers behind Hiruzen that he realised could never be ousted while Hiruzen was still in the Hokage seat (which naturally led him to the force of nature that is Tsunade upon Hiruzen’s death, knowing that he would forever be needed far afield).

Of course, by this point Minato, who was the one person Jiraiya truly believed could have changed things, had already perished. While Jiraiya doesn’t place blame on Hiruzen for the fact he and Kushina died (because truly at the time, he was too busy wondering ‘could I have stopped it’), he was aware that Minato himself had entrusted Hiruzen specifically with Naruto’s upbringing. His late student equipped him with the details of Naruto’s seal and the warning of the masked man on purpose, so that he could go on to discover the culprit and put a stop to them where a Hokage couldn’t—and awful as it was, taking on the duty of working in the background was an easy enough thing for a grieving Jiraiya to accept at this point, knowing he’d not be in any position to raise a child (read: knows but won’t admit he is depressed, see the linked headcanon which sort of answers a lot of this question in general now that I look back on it).

By the time we come to the big man’s official First Appearance, with the hindsight of the entire story (and my embellishments) at my disposal, I think the bad blood is pretty clear by the fact he directly tells Ebisu not to let Hiruzen know of his return at all. We don’t see him speak to Hiruzen even once between returning to Konoha after twelve years and the old man’s death, which I think says a lot, and revisiting these themes now I can see a lot of that being to do with what he allowed to fly in terms of ROOT and Danzō, but also what he learns of how Naruto was raised... for which there is really no excuse, because even if Jiraiya also wasn’t around, Naruto could have at least been afforded knowledge of what he was, as per his parents’ wishes (and again, I think Jiraiya was encouraged to go off and do his thing because that secret would not remain safe with him while Naruto was small). Then there’s also the matter of him not going to Hiruzen’s funeral, instead going to the place where he had fond childhood memories to mourn in private—because they really were the only fond ones he had from before Hiruzen became so apathetic.

... So in essence, yeah. Jiraiya’s full of resentment, as much as I think the child in him does still love Hiruzen. In fact, I believe Hiruzen was the prime example of why Jiraiya never wanted to set foot into that office as Konoha’s ruler. However I do think that he recognises where he could have focused his own energies more on the village—for example, had he returned upon learning that there was foul play involved with the Uchiha Clan Massacre, he might even have found out that not all of the Ame kids died, or something else that could have prevented him going into Ame blind to die. But of course, that is a choice he recognises as his own. It was between focusing on cleaning up Konoha and getting embroiled in that whole mess with nobody who would realistically back him up (after helping two fugitives—one being Hiruzen’s own son—to escape no less, as per my headcanon), or allowing those who orchestrated the Kyūbi attack to go unchecked.

TL;DR it’s complicated. He resents Hiruzen, he wishes he could have changed things, but knows what else he would have risked going unchecked to do so.

[itachi-uchiha-deserved-better]

She moves before her mind even has a chance to catch up with her. Its stumbling over his words, the implications, the gaps in the truth she knew. And more than anything she felt a chill dumbness settle into her chest that wouldn’t be lifted until she had the answers, just as Itachi said.

But the wet, ragged coughs that tares from him and the blood sliding through his fingers has Sakura on her feet before she realizes, the medic in her takes over. She moves swiftly to his side, guiding him to a chair with a hand on his elbow, the other coming to his back.

“Here, sit down and don’t speak.” She says gently. Her motions are mechanical, absent as she pulls a clean cloth from her medic pouch and pressing it into his hand for the blood.

She rests a hand on his forehead and tries to register its clammy and warm texture instead of reliving all the times Tsunade had ranted about Danzo and his rash, violent decision making.

Quickly, she slips her hands under the collar of Itachi’s cloak, sliding it as far down his body as she can. She focuses on the need to cool him down and gain access to his body for an exam and not the fact that similar fabric always covered one of Danzo’s eyes. Could it be concealing more than an old war injury?

She slides one hand under Itachi’s hair to the back of his neck, thumb brushing against his racing pulse and tries not to think about how her pulse had raced that day at Orochimaru’s base when Sasuke had turned his sharingan on Naruto and forced back the nine-tails inside him.

The other hand she presses to his shuddering chest, rising too fast and too shallow. Had it shuttered too the night he’d looked Sasuke in the eye after sparing his life? Sakura meets Itachi’s eyes, dull with creeping blindness. What had Itachi felt seeing nothing but hatred reflected back in Sasuke’s eyes? Hatred she’d seen so many times.

Could Lord Third have done that? Danzo? Were relations with the Uchiha really that bad? Had civil war really a possibility?

Another ragged cough from Itachi stops her mind short.

Later, she tells herself, releasing a long breath.

Her eyes unfocus as she turns her attention into his body and away from the turmoil inside her. Maybe the fact that she was doing this at all gave away that she wasn’t as torn as she wanted to believe.

His throat is raw and inflamed from chronic coughing and she does what she can to ease it, drawing cooling chakra there, before focusing on the source of the damage - his lungs. Pressing chakra into his chest, she feels the extent of his disease and her eyes clamp shut.

Its bad. Its really, really bad.

He’s slowly drowning in his own blood, the smallest vessels of his lungs bursting. Why? She looks deeper, not sensing any kind of foreign body in him - virus, bacteria, poison - nothing. Its….its his own immune system. He’s being attacked by his own body.

Her shoulders fall. The damage that had been done was…so vast. He was dying. Quickly.

She can ease the damage, slow it maybe, but not in one session. For now, she just begins repairing the current flair up to stop his coughing. She’d need more time to dive deeper to the older scarred sections.

If he had been a shinobi that living in the village under her care, receiving frequent treatments, he might have been able to go into remission or at least extend his life another decade or two. But being exiled without a medic-nin, it was a death sentence that had run out.

“3 weeks,” she says softly, finally opening her eyes to look him in the face. “If untreated, you have 3 weeks at most.”

Its not an offer. Its not, but she hears herself say the words, “With daily chakra treatments and a strict regiment of drugs, 6 months, maybe more.”

_

She could have attacked him. Could have taken advantage of the moment of weakness against him. But she hadn’t. Maybe it was because Kisame was waiting just on the other side of the door, but the fact that he could feel the chakra flowing into him, easing his breathing, cooling the fire that burned in his chest so that the coughing subsided made him hopeful. He wipes the blood away from his mouth and lets her work, contemplating his own hands. He doesn’t need the sharingan to know where each rough callous is, hardened from years and years of wielding his Kunai. He knows by heart every single scar is. He can remember each mission he went on where the blood on his hands was a mixture of his and the enemies. 

There was no mistaking that he had the hands of a killer. He compared them to the girl’s hands as they slid over his skin with the proficiency of a well trained medical ninja. There were some callouses, like his, but they weren’t as thick, not as unyielding. They moved with a gentle firmness. Hands that gave life, instead of taking it. 

Itachi smiled at the feeling of envy that settled in the pit of his stomach. If he could go back, if he could change the way things had happened, those were the kind of hands he would have wanted. 

“Three weeks,” He rasped, despite her instructions not to talk. That wasn’t much time. He still had too much to do. He needed to make sure that Sauske was free of Orochimaru’s influence over him, needed to let his brother have his revenge so that his reason for leaving the village was gone. And he needed to make sure that there were contingencies in place so that once news of Itachi’s death reached the village, Danzo couldn’t take action against Sauske. He had to make sure his brother would be protected, make sure the leaf would be protected so that all the blood on his hands wouldn’t be in vain. 

“There’s a place about a day’s walk from Konoha. A village and a woman who lives there. When Lord Third died and the barrier formula was changed, I started leaving information with her. Tell her the fox sent you and she’ll give you what you need. And inside the village, the remains of the Uchiha compound. There are secrets hidden there as well.” 

He let his sharingan flare back to life, bracing himself for the sudden spike in chakra use. But he didn’t activate it. 

“May I show you?” He asked her, “For my brother’s sake?”

@haruno-sakura-rp

[battleshell]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm. tagged by: @dansiere whom im care tagging: extremely informative meme for ppl who have lots of cross-over interactions, i encourage u to steal it from me anyway BUT @sternenteile​ @twelvians​ @stellamris​ @grandtales​

My muse is:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO. [ he is a very, very minor NPC that i’ve essentially wrested from the game with my grubby hands; Gerson is a merchant NPC found in Waterfall, the third area of the game focused with water themes. he has less than 100 lines of dialogue (but jam-packed full of info) and doesn’t even have an overworld sprite. although noted to have a history with multiple major characters, it’s not often i’ve seen him be the main focus of any fanfics or art pieces. ]

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. [ put that faaaaaaaar away from me please tyty ]

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. [ i personally believe that Gerson is a strong and potentially powerful monster with fighting capability that could rival some of the stronger Monsters in the Underground due to his background as a fighter during the Human-Monster War, but since has waned in both reputation and fighting skill. we never fight him in game and as such, will never see how he compares numerically, but it’s clear from his dialogue that he knows how to fight professionally/cleverly and would have given a hard challenge. ]

Are they underrated?  YES / NO / IDK. [ i mentioned before that Gerson has ties with lots of major characters - I hardly see it being put into action or talked about! i also have a soft spot for elder/older characters in general since they seem to be overlooked in favor for younger characters that carry the action of plots - which I understand and totally get, but I still like to put these characters out there for the sake of it ]

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG. [ he was a funny merchant dude that said “wahaha” a whole bunch of times and carried a magnifying glass; sure he and Frisk would have been good friends after the golden ending but most people have forgotten about their interaction with Gerson once out of Waterfall ]

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO. [ as one of the older if not oldest Monsters in the Underground, or from his reputation as the “Hammer of Justice” from wartime. he is also a historian and is noted to have written a few of the books in the Librarby. definitely known in the Underground, but probably only in that community ]

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. [ as mentioned before, a benefactor to the community and maybe even a sagely figure. a source of wisdom (even if cheeky) and a person of stability ]

How strictly do you follow canon?  — ehhhhhhhhhh both extremely canon compliant and then hands off the wheel, let jesus drive me away~ i only have so much canon material to work with so i have milked as much as offered to me, then went off to forge my own path in order to patch up the missing holes then add a few sprinkles. the base of the character is all there, but if you really want to get invested with him (or me) then we have a lot to walk through.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  —  old tortoise (NOT TURTLE) guy sells knick-knacks and cracks jokes, knows everyone’s dirty secrets but thinks they’re just funny to think about them than use them. an elder in the community who has stories to tell and lessons to teach, who has lived through half of recorded history and now spends his time just trying to make things around him interesting. a war veteran who protects his community and understands the horror of the world, but keeps eyes looking into the future even in the face of grimness itself. plays the accordion and harmonica, could probably square dance if he knew what that was. will call you kiddo.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  —  little to no motivation to find a passion for himself that would benefit or service just himself; his entire sense of worth comes from servicing others in some way (being a soldier and protecting people; recording history in order to teach future generations; maintaining a shop in order to literally service others) and lack of action due to decrepitude in old age. close-minded compared to other Monsters, as he doesn’t actually take to think of humans or outsiders kindly; judgmental to the point of being racist. proud and dislikes being one-upped that it could lead to pettiness, and despite his positive outlooks, very pessimistic worldview.

What inspired you to rp your muse?  —  funfact: Gerson is my first tumblr RP muse ever, and since i was worried about duplicate anxiety when i first started i specifically wrote him since he was a smaller character with less attention - i’ve since learned i have no anxiety about it so it’s no longer a problem, but what keeps me going today is the challenge of writing someone so different from me. the elder aesthetic along with homely, almost cottagecore kind of vibe is also appealing, and the humor that comes with gerson is a joy to write out.

What keeps your inspiration going?  —  reading literature, music, artwork, pinterest, replaying the game, and doing little hobbies that would embody the character (collecting or sewing, for example) are things i can do by myself, but with other people i have the most drive when i can have friendly and nonpersonal arguments/debates about character motives or about source material like what made a character act like this or that, or about really anything as long as it makes me seriously think about characters critically and force me to recognize flaws.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO? [ unfortunately i’m not a tortoise monster who lived for probably centuries if not decades older than myself, but i enjoy writing older characters and hope that other ppl see the potential gerson has like i do ]

Do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO / SORT OF? [ you know when you have a concept and in your own mind you can see it clearly, without fuzziness or confusion, but you can’t seem to put it clearly into words without it turning into an essay because you need to connect all the other points that’s in the single concept you envisioned? yea. ]

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES / NO [ bro i should.. ]

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO [ hmu if you got pinterest and i’ll give u tons and tons of boards ]

Are you confident in your portrayal?  YES / NO / SORT OF? [ this is unfair to answer as (AFAIK) i am the only person writing Gerson in... any capacity. despite that i like to think i bring out the humorous side of him, and show ppl that he and other NPCs are tons of potentials and shouldn’t be overlooked because they aren’t popular ]

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO. [ i always believed my style and my skill in not only PSDs or aesthetics, but analysis or understanding was always a bit plain, without much flourish or complexity. while that is appealing on its own and has its own merits, i can’t help but feel i can always push myself to do a little more, add a little flavor, or paint an image that could only be done in writing. although i am doing enough to get the job done, i’m searching for a certain voice of writing that i like and want to integrate into creative writing in order to make it more personalized and more engaging. ]

Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO. / SORTA. [ i despise pussyfooting and will often tell ppl straight up if i have a problem with them or something about them; straightforwardness, honesty, and integrity are some of my core values and that includes being harsh if it comes to it in order to keep order ]

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?  —  assuming it’s rooted in goodwill or from a point of analysis, absolutely! it’s one of the direct sources for growth and getting better at any craft, but as Tumblr loves to be.... jumpy, i’m always cautious when its not from someone i know.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?  —  YEA BUDDYYYYY

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?  —  absolutely, i thrive off friendly discourse as i mentioned.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?  —  if we don’t discuss it as above, in lit any other case i’d say “well there are other blogs to follow” but since i’m like 99% sure i’m the only gerson blog that isn’t applicable lmao; the point still stands that everyone has the freedom to write a character as they wish. there are valid reasons to dislike a portayal but not a lot of valid reasons to attack someone for it - with the exception of ppl being gross. stop that, nasty.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?  —  strangely. it’s not my job to make people like a character, you either like them or not. if you dislike them for unreasonable points then, to leave in the previous response, “clowns will be clowns, no matter what you do. I just don’t get why you would follow someone if you hate their character to begin with.”

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?  —  of course, as long as it’s polite and all that jazz!

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?   —  depends on the meaning - i like making new friends and i find it easy to talk to new people, be it about roleplay or other things like organizing video game play sessions. however, i also have on multiple occasions have approached ppl privately saying “this is annoying/this is problematic/this is inappropriate, stop” and been met with general disdain for voicing such so Who Knows..... (tm). at least on a private level. here, publicly, i’m pretty relaxed! memes and jokes are abound. as long as a person can be mature and responsible for their actions we can vibe, yo.