#` about / shadowstep `

[tgcg]

argument

its a big one

TG: alright this is probably a bust

TG: more i think about it how the fuck do you even make a marinara

TG: can i even alchemise cheese or do i gotta like alchemise the milk and curdle it myself

TG: how do you even curdle

====================

TG: make a goddamn

TG: curgler

TG: whatever

TG: internet archive gonna pull through

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CG: ALRIGHT DAVE

TG: shit

====================

CG: YOU BETTER BACK THE FUCK OFF. I DON'T KNOW WHERE IN BULGEMUNCHING VIRULENT FUCK YOU GET THE IDEA YOU HAVE ANY RIGHT TO TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD THINK ABOUT MY OWN GODDAMN PLANET. SORRY TO HAVE TO DEAL A BLOW TO YOUR IMPOSSIBLY INFLATED FUCKING EGO, BUT HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED THAT YOUR SIDE-EYE SLACKJAW HOPELESS DEADPAN BULLSHIT BEHAVIOUR IS ACTUALLY INCREDIBLY FUCKING CONTEMPTIBLE AND DOESN'T PUT YOU ABOVE OTHER PEOPLE? HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THAT?

CG: OR DID YOU JUST ASSUME FROM THE MOMENT YOU FOUND OUT I'M A REVOLTING FUCKING MUTANT LOWBLOOD FREAK THAT I'M SUDDENLY NOT ALLOWED TO LIKE THE IDEA OF MY LIFE MEANING SOMETHING AT SOME POINT?

TG: okay you are wildly misquoting me where the fuck did that come from

TG: also you scared the hell out of me

TG: im just trying to science some pizza here

====================

CG: OKAY THEN, DAVE! EXPLAIN TO ME AS WELL AS YOUR AMBLING ONE-NOTE SMOOTH EXCUSE FOR A 'THOUGHT'SPONGE CAN

CG: IN SOMEWHAT COHERENT TERMS, ALTHOUGH I KNOW THAT'S A TALL ORDER:

CG: HOW YOU SAYING MY ADOLESCENT DREAMS OF BECOMING A THRESHECUTIONER ARE "FUCKED UP AND IRONIC IN A NASTY ASS WAY" DOESN'T QUALIFY AS UNDERHANDEDLY KICKING ME IN THE MANDIBLE PRONGS!

CG: YOUR AUDIENCE AWAITS YOU WITH BATED BREATH! TAKE IT AWAY, M.C. BRAIN HEMORRHAGE.

====================

TG: okay i dont

TG: know how you got a hold of that phrasing because i said that shit in confidence

TG: get out of my business bro

CG: NEWSFLASH, ASSHOLE: THIS METEOR IS A PHYSICAL, LITERAL LOCATION WE'RE BOTH IN. IT'S NOT A FUCKING PRIVATE CHATROOM. THIS MIGHT BLOW YOUR PITIFUL MIND BUT PEOPLE CAN ACTUALLY HEAR OTHER PEOPLE TALK WHEN THEY HAVE TO SHARE A SPACE! BRO!

TG: ugh

====================

CG: AND IT'S VERY INTERESTING YOU ACCUSE ME OF MISQUOTING YOU, AND THEN SUDDENLY TURN AND SPOUT FROM THAT SHITTY DRONING GROANSHAFT OF YOURS THAT I'M INVADING YOUR PRIVACY WHEN I DIRECTLY QUOTE YOUR SMARMY LITTLE SHAMEGLOBES!

CG: WOW! TURNS OUT KARKAT IS ACTUALLY BEING GENUINELY FUCKING UPSET ABOUT SOMETHING — WHO KNEW, RIGHT? WHO WOULD'VE GUESSED THAT I ACTUALLY HAVE GENUINE COMPLAINTS TO LEVEL AGAINST THE PEOPLE WHO GO SPOUTING HOOFBEASTSHIT ABOUT ME BEHIND MY BACK TO THEIR ECTOSIBLINGS?

TG: no dude can you shut up a second

CG: I MOST CERTAINLY FUCKING WILL, THANKS FOR THE OFFER! I'M NEVER TELLING YOU A GODDAMN THING AGAIN, SO I HOPE YOU MANAGE TO GAIN SOME WRINKLES TO THAT VESTIGIAL FLAWLESS ORB FLOATING AROUND IN YOUR CAVERNOUS NUGBONE FROM ALL THIS. I HOPE IT WAS WORTH ALL THE EFFORT ON YOUR END.

TG: listen!!!!

====================

CG: MHM! MY AURICULAR CHAMBERS ARE WIDE OPEN!

TG: jegus

TG: okay

TG: i have no defense for my literal phrasing but how expeditiously did you shadowstep the fuck away after i said that

TG: because that is some shrek tier "princess and ugly dont go together" level misrepresentation of my sweet self

TG: like if this wasnt obviously a heated platonic argument we were having i would probably be digging what the reference even if it was a shitty trope

====================

TG: i just

TG: have been thinking about some things and none of those things have got an iota of a thing to do with you or your blood

TG: thing

TG: man

TG: i dont know why you think id be so pressed about your vein juice its like

TG: a normal ass color for a normal ass guy

TG: and obviously it was a major fucking deal from how you talk about it but it doesnt need to be anymore

====================

TG: the thing is i just dont like have the same attitude as you about fighting and stuff and thats not something i am getting into right now but i am gonna make it expressly clear

TG: that its just kind of fucked up for me to sit my ass down and listen to someone spew gold and medals and confetti colored shit going googoo all over tall and loathsome ass bloodletters he never knew

TG: and have him tell me he wants to be the best guy at combat since samurai fuckin jack

TG: and thats my capital B business believe me the emphasis is there

====================

CG: SO IS THIS ABOUT ME WANTING TO BE PART OF SOMETHING YOU DON'T AGREE WITH? BECAUSE THRESHECUTIONERS DON'T EVEN FUCKING EXIST ANYMORE. I LITERALLY COULD NOT DO THIS IF I TRIED AT THIS POINT, SO YOU CAN UNKNOT YOUR “KNIGHTY WHITIES” ABOUT IT.

TG: being anti-military is not my point but damn if it isnt a thing thats probably true anyways so good job sleuthing that out

CG: WHAT IS YOUR POINT, DAVE.

TG: bluh

TG: i just said i dont wanna talk about it man

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CG: OKAY,

====================

CG: OKAY.

CG: I MEAN. IT FEELS KIND OF IMPORTANT TO THE CONTEXT OF THIS WHOLE UNAMBIGUOUSLY PLATONIC ARGUMENT WE'VE BEEN HAVING

CG: WHICH I'M RELIEVED WE AGREE ON BY THE WAY

CG: BUT IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO KNOW I'M NOT GOING TO WRING IT OUT OF YOU. IT'S FINE.

====================

CG: …IF YOU DECIDE AT SOME POINT THAT YOU WANT TO TELL ME THOUGH, MY RUMBLE VESSELS ARE STILL OPEN.

TG: i swear youre making those up on the spot at this point

CG: I'M KEEPING MY LANGUAGE'S ART ALIVE, DAVE. IT'S BASIC DECENCY TO THE PLANET THAT RAISED ME.

TG: heh

====================

TG: yknow we got these things called anatomical snuffboxes

TG: its got that right amount of vague nose wrinklage to it that i feel like youd be right at home saying that

TG: snug as a grub even

CG: WHAT PART IS THAT???

TG: its that little weird bone bit that sticks out on the back of your palm when you flex your thumb right

====================

TG: look

CG: HUH. LOOKING AT THAT IS KIND OF WIGGING ME OUT.

TG: yeah its kinda gross rose told me about it

TG: but anyways

====================

TG: are we cool

CG: I MEAN… I GUESS SO. YOU WEREN'T ACTUALLY INSULTING ME, RIGHT?

TG: hell no dude never

CG: OKAY. I COMPLETELY RESCIND THE MYRIAD OF WAYS I JUST INSULTED YOU. AND I'M SORRY.

TG: nah i know its just fluff at this point

====================

CG: I STILL DON'T APPRECIATE YOU TELLING ROSE THINGS I SAY TO YOU IN CONFIDENCE. THAT WAS BETWEEN YOU, ME, AND MY NOW NON-EXISTENT HOME PLANET ROTTING AWAY TO A CRATERED GRAY HUSK IN ANOTHER DEAD UNIVERSE.

TG: i swear that was like the only thing its just that she gets it and i cant keep my mouth from going on about the gettable stuff

TG: they call me the babbling brook the way my flows so audible

TG: i wont do it again

CG: NO,

====================

CG: I GET IT HONESTLY.

CG: I'M BASICALLY THE NUMBER ONE PROPRIETOR OF AIRED GRIEVANCES IN ALL OF PARADOX SPACE AND THEN SOME, AND I'D ALSO BECOME ITS BIGGEST HYPOCRITE IF I HELD IT AGAINST YOU.

TG: thanks

TG: but i mean

TG: at the gigantic risk of sounding uh

====================

TG: ………..

CG: ?

====================

TG: well

TG: i kinda just think youre better at being a guy to chill out and watch movies with than a guy to tangle fists with

TG: and i dont think theres anything wrong with being that

TG: i think its cool

====================

CG: …THAT'S AN ALARMINGLY BRAZEN OBSERVATION TO MAKE OF SOMEONE YOU'VE KNOWN FOR ABOUT THE SPAN OF SEVEN SEASONAL EQUINOXES, DAVE.

TG: i dont know what that means but it sure is probably

CG: AM I ALLOWED TO ASK WHAT EVEN GIVES YOU THAT IMPRESSION????

TG: i just got that inkling about you man

====================

TG: and you can do whatever you want with that info

TG: throw it in the load gaper or whatever if you want i dont really care

TG: give it a swirly and slam it in a locker call it a nerd break its glasses whatever

TG: but beyond this whole lord english thing weve got going on i am pretty content to never aggress my fellow man slash alien slash monster again if i can help it

TG: i think thats pretty fair given what thats been like so far

====================

TG: and yknow its cool to have some company when im waxing emotional over the narrative depth of click starring adam sandler which we are watching next by the way

CG: UGH, FIIIIIIIIINE. JUST TO MAKE UP FOR CALLING YOUR THINKPAN SMOOTH AND SUPERFLUOUS.

====================

TG: score

TG: we should argue all the time

CG: SNRK

[grayhyacinth]

I love your gravity falls fics!

Could I possibly request for you to write for the prompt of Dipper dating a vampire who fosters a great interest in humans/human culture despite being hidden away from society and told to fear humans while they grew up? (Kind of like Mavis from Hotel Transylvania)

They were extremely sheltered and decided to sneak away from the forest their parents hid them away in to explore the nearby town, Gravity Falls! In their attempts at adventuring during the night, they'd meet Dipper who'd eventually know without much contemplation that they're a vampire and be mildly interested in their supernatural abilities. Meanwhile the vampire would be very interested in the (cute) human's humanity.

(Also, maybe some conflict as their parents hate humans so...it'd be kinda awkward when they start dating Dip 😅)

Thank you for the request!! I had a lot of fun writing this! Please enjoy!

Links: ao3, tumblr, masterlist

The moon was high, silver light slicing through the thick canopy like a blade. In the heart of the old-growth woods, where no mortal paths dared to tread, nestled a neighborhood that didn't exist on any human map.

Stone cottages rose from mossy roots. Gothic arches curled with thorny ivy. Red roses littered the grey architecture. And watchful eyes, too many of them, glinted from the shadows.

In this mysterious neighborhood, the undead had finally woken from their slumber.

You stood at the edge of your family's estate, cloak pressed to your chest, a brown leather bag slung over your shoulder. Inside it: a tourist map map of Oregon and a journal filled with dreams. Not bloodlines. Not hunting tactics. Dreams. Scribbles about sunsets. Pop music. Slumber parties. Humans.

"Where do you think you're going?" A sharp voice pierced the stillness.

Your unresponsive heart jumps.

It was Uncle Voren, all hunched posture and glinting monocle, stepping out from the shadows with two black-furred bats at his side. His eyes were bloodshot from days of not sleeping. The bats beside him mirrored the same wide eyes paranoia, their fangs curled as they protruded from their little mouths.

"Uncle Voren!" You said carefully, slowly tightening your grip on the strap of your leather bag.

"Out for a midnight stroll, are we?" He asked, voice low and suspicious.

"Umm... yes!" You replied in a tone to chipper to be true. "Just you know... heading to the... um... cemetery."

"The cemetery?"

"Yep!" You nodded enthusiastically, stepping back slightly. "Totally normal vampire things. Just thought I'd get a bit of... inspiration! Tombstones, gloom, you know. Soothing."

You glance away quickly from his scrutinizing stare, eyeing you up and down.

Uncle Voren squinted. "You despise the cemetery. You said it smells like moldy teeth."

"Character building!" You hastely chirped. "Gotta get over my aversions, right? Embrace the rot. Soak in some ambiance. Very serious personal growth arc happening here." You waved your hands up and down, maximizing the point that you were finally growing out of your shell.

The bats' beady eyes stare unwavering, their little noses sniffed, unsure. Voren tilted his head, eyes narrowing.

For a moment, you were sure he could hear the frantic pounding of your unbeating heart.

Then, finally, he let out a grunt.

"Fine. But don't be long. And no funny business. The mortal border is active tonight. I'd hate for you to accidentally wander off."

"Oh, I'd never!" You said brightly, already stepping backward toward the trees. "Wander? Me? Nooo. Just good old-fashioned graveyard loitering. Smell ya later!"

And before Voren could second-guess, you spun on your heel and vanished into the trees.

As soon as he were out of earshot, your grin dropped, and you ran. Boots skimming across the forest floor, branches slapping past your cloak, you whispered a shadowstep spell under their breath and blinked, fwoosh! Through a line of tall pine trees and over the fence that marked the boundary of your hidden society.

On the other side: night wind. Crickets. The distant smell of sweet maple syrup and pancakes. Stopping dead in your tracks, you stared down at the grand human town below. Twinkling lights reflect the tiny lives of insignificant creatures. The town sparkled like spilled fireflies in the valley below.

Gravity Falls.

You breathed in the scent of fast food grease. And freedom. Finally.

"Let's see what's so scary about humans," you whispered to the night.

And with one last glance at the forest behind them, you vanished into the dark.

The bright, round moon casted its gaze onto the tall pine trees below. Long shadows hid your body as you slinked through the forest, inching closer and closer to the human town.

Your cloak snagged on brambles. You didn't care. Your boots were soaked from the creek you half-tripped through. Still didn't care.

You crouched behind a tree, watching from the edge. You could smell humans. Real humans.

You could see one, even. A boy walking alone in the dark forest, holding a flashlight and muttering to himself while flipping through a thick notebook with a giant handprint.

You blinked.

He was... shorter than you'd expected. Messier, too. Brown hair sticking out under a trucker hat, oversized black sneakers, and a blue vest that complemented his orange shirt. He looked... human. Entirely human.

And yet, your fangs twitched. Not from hunger, but from something else. Curiosity.

You stepped closer.

A branch beneath your foor snapped in half.

The boy froze.

Then turned.

Flashlight beam cut through the trees.

It misses you.

"Who's there?" His voice cracks halfway through, shrill and falsely bold, like someone trying to bluff their way through a horror movie.

You stay perfectly still.

But your smile grows.

He's scared. Not enough to run. Just enough to be interesting.

You take a silent step forward, letting your boots crunch just slightly on the pine needles. Just enough for him to hear.

He jumps, spinning around. The flashlight beam wobbles. He grabs at a branch for balance, holding it like a sword.

"I've got a weapon," he says, a little too fast. "And--and I'm not afraid to use it! Probably." He mumbles the last word to himself, a silent prayer on the tip of his tongue.

You tilt your head, amused.

You finally step forward, the moonlight catching the edge of your face. Just enough to show the faint glow of your eyes. Just enough for your fangs to glint when you speak.

His eyes widen. His grip on the branch tightens.

"Who--who are you?" he stammers, swallowing hard. "And what are you?"

He steps back instinctively, bumping into a tree with a soft thud. The flashlight trembles in his hand.

"Would you believe me if I said... I'm just a curious traveler?"

He stares.

Your smile wider, teeth sharp but your tone almost playful. "Sheltered most of my life. Raised to think humans were monsters. Figured I’d come see for myself."

Dipper blinks, his eyes trailing to your glinting fangs. "Are you... a vampire?"

"Mm. Very perceptive, human boy with terrible posture."

"...Hey."

Silence falls between the two of you. One with a heavy, labored breath and watchful eyes. The other curiously examining the creature in front of them.

He's cute, for a human.

"You’re not running." You tilt your head. "You’re supposed to run."

"I should be running," he says, still staring. "But now I just kinda want to ask questions."

You pause. Then grin. "Good. I have some too."

You take another step forward, closer now, close enough that you can smell the faint scent of clean laundry and pine on him.

"What’s a ‘pizza bagel’?"

He squints, caught completely off-guard. "A what...?"

"A pizza bagel." You cross your arms, genuinely confused. "You know. The thing you humans eat?"

He stares. "Let me get this straight…" Still gripping his stick like it might ward you off, he sighs heavily. "You’ve never had a pizza bagel before?"

You raise a brow. "Well. We drink blood, human. Bagels are not on the menu."

His eyes widen a little, but to your surprise, he doesn't flinch. In fact, he lowers the stick. "You’re missing out. Come on," he says, a strange confidence in his voice. "Let’s go fix that."

But, just as he spun on his heel to step away from you, he spins back. "And if you try anything,” he lifts the stick dramatically, "I’ve got… this. And sarcasm. Both are very effective."

You grin at his failure of a threat. “Lead the way, human."

The Greasy diner is quiet, only a trucker asleep in a booth, and Lazy Susan humming off-key while wiping the counter. The lights flicker, casting a weird, warm glow over the red vinyl seats.

You sit across from him in a booth by the window, watching the steam curl from his hot cocoa like it’s some strange form of magic.

A paper napkin lays flat between you, a pen already poised in his hand.

"We’re doing this like a contract?" You ask.

"I take monster stuff seriously," he says, scribbling PIZZA BAGEL PACT at the top in all caps. "You tell me about vampire powers, weaknesses, and creepy rules. I teach you about human stuff, pop culture, food, and small talk. We both win."

You glance down at the greasy plate he slid over.

"And what do I call you?"

He looks up mid-writing. A thoughtful expression on his face. "My name is Dipper Pines."

Making eye contact, you smile lightly. "Please to meet you. Mine is (Y/n) (L/n)."

He returns the smile and goes back to writing as you stare down at the plate of food.

The bagel is toasted. Covered in red sauce and melty cheese. It looks like an open wound.

It honestly repulsed you. "I have… so many questions about this."

"Perfect," he says, flipping the pen in his hand and offering it. "Sign here."

You read once over the contract and then sign with a dramatic flourish. Human lives are short, which makes contracts with them a little less dangerous.

Dipper smiles widely. He quickly grabs the napkin, rolls it up as if it's a piece of parchment paper from the 1700s, and tucks it into a hidden pocket in his blue vest. "Okay. First question: sunlight. Does it instantly kill you, or is it more of a slow sizzle?"

You pause with the bagel halfway to your mouth. "It’s more of a... painfully glamorous death. We burst into glitter."

"...You’re joking."

"Am I?"

He narrows his eyes, trying not to smile. You take your first bite of the pizza bagel, and immediately your expression shifts.

You freeze.

He leans forward. His chin rests on the back of his hand as his eyebrows raise up with an expectant look. "Well?"

"…I want fifteen more of these."

He grins.

"Welcome to humanity."

You finish chewing the last bit of molten cheese and crust, eyes wide like you’ve just tasted enlightenment. You lick your fingers slowly, thoughtfully. "Okay. My turn."

Dipper sips his cocoa. "Hit me."

You lean forward, elbows on the table, fangs just barely showing as you ask, deadly serious:

"Why do you have so many condiments? Humans carry like, five sauces just for potatoes. Is that a dominance thing?"

Dipper choked on his drink. "I--what? No! It’s just… taste. Variety."

You nod a few times, thinking carefully. "Flavor hierarchy. Understood."

Dipper lets out a breath, still blinking at you like he’s not sure if you're joking or genuinely building a thesis on human cuisine.

“Does all blood taste the same?” he asks.

You perk up slightly. “Nope.” You say it far too casually, like someone talking about ice cream.

He leans back a little, half-wary, half-intrigued. “Okay… should I be concerned that you answered that so fast?”

You smirk. You rest your chin on your hand, eyes twinkling with mischief. "We're taught early how to tell the differences. Human blood varies by diet, age, and even mood. Some of it's sweet. Some's spicy. Some tastes like sadness and instant noodles."

Dipper makes a face. "That's horrifying. And weirdly specific."

You grin. "I like to be prepared."

He stares for a moment, then slowly raises a finger. "Do not try to guess what mine would taste like."

You lean forward, fangs peeking just slightly. "Oh, I already have theories."

He grabs a nearby glass bottle salt shaker and shakes it at you, and you laugh, a soft, rich sound that echoes in the diner's cozy lighting.

Despite his disturbed expression, he smiles at the merry sounds that escape you.

A moment passes allowing you to quickly finish the pizza bagel, you tap the table again, eyes burning with curiosity.

"What is the purpose of a 'middle school dance' if no one is actually mating?"

He sputters, coughing. "Whoa! Whoa. Okay. Time-out."

You grin, all fangs and amusement. "Too much?"

The boy coughs again, a red blush creeps up the sides of his face and onto the tip of his ears. "I think actually it’s my turn to ask a question," he says, trying and failing to sound smooth.

You lean in, chin resting in your hand, clearly amused. "Oh? The human strikes back."

He clears his throat, attempting to regain some composure. "Right. Okay. So…" He pauses, glancing at you more directly now. His voice drops just a bit, softer, more genuine. "Why now?"

You blink. "Why what?"

"Why come to Gravity Falls? Why sneak out of your creepy vampire forest just to show up here?" He shrugs, smile tilting.

You hesitate for a beat, surprised by the weight behind the question. Then, slowly, you look toward the window, watching the moonlight touch the tops of the trees beyond the glass.

"Because I got tired of looking at the world through stained glass and iron bars," you murmur. "Because the stories they told me didn't match what I saw when I watched from the shadows. And maybe…" Your eyes drift back to his. His dark hues reflect your expression, your desperation beyond superficial obedience. "Maybe I hoped someone out here would prove them wrong."

He doesn't say anything for a second. Just looks at you like you're a puzzle he actually wants to figure out.

"…You picked a good town for that," he says finally.

You smile faintly. "I think I picked a good human, too."

He doesn't say anything at first. Just kind of… looks at you. Like he's trying to memorize you. But then realization hits him.

Then the color in his cheeks deepens again. "You picked a good human, huh?" He reaches up, his fingers gripping the brim of his hat to straighten it.

You nod, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Curious. Kind. A little awkward. Definitely brave." You pause, eyes twinkling. "And cute. Don't forget that part."

He chokes on absolutely nothing, grabbing his cup like it might protect him. "I--uh--okay, wow. You can't just--say stuff like that."

You lean in across the table just a little, resting your chin in your hand again. "Why not?"

"Because…" He gestures vaguely, flustered. "You're, like… mysterious and cool and undead and definitely out of my league."

You tilt your head. "But you're the first human to ever share a pizza bagel with me."

Dipper blinks. "But anyone could have shared a pizza bagel with you!"

You arch a brow. "Mm. True. But you did."

He falters, mouth opening like he wants to argue, but then his brain catches up, and he just sort of… gives up with a quiet, nervous laugh.

"Okay, that's not fair," he groans aloud. "You're using vampire logic. You're twisting it to make me sound special."

You grin, unapologetic. "That’s because you are special. Most humans would've run screaming. Or thrown garlic at me. You just... offered me junk food."

"I panicked!" He protests, flustered again. "I don't like messing with the undead."

You chuckle under your breath and lean forward, eyes gleaming in the diner light. "Well. Your panic was oddly endearing."

Then, impulsively, and with a sudden flicker of boldness, you reach out and gently play with the tilt of his hat, brushing your fingers lightly through his hair as you do.

Dipper stiffens like he forgot how to breathe, eyes wide.

"There," you say softly, letting your hand fall back. "Perfectly lopsided again."

He stares at you, heart probably doing cartwheels.

"…You're going to be the death of me," he mumbles under his breath.

You just smile, fangs peeking slightly. "Ironic, coming from the mortal."

[estuaryghoul]

Horror Ghoul Yapping :}

The ghouls aren't /human. It's easy to forget sometimes, they're so good at pretending on stage, but they aren't. Offstage, out of practice, in the dark cold halls of the ministry, it's much easier to remember.

To see one, just a silhouette at the other end of the hall. Feel the lights seem to get dimmer, glinting dangerously off the blank eyes of their mask. The terror stirring in your gut as neither of you move. You have to approach or leave (turn your back), and both are equally terrifying. The silent standoff drags on.

You take a step back, bracing yourself in a deep instinct of danger. The ghoul does not move. You take another step. There are stairs behind you and you know this, you sacrifice a glance. Just momentarily taking your eyes off the figure. When you look back, it's gone.

individual headcanons under the cut

Swissarmy is teeth, obviously. Too big, too sharp. Always bared. He seems to move /too fluidly, too quickly. Seemingly slithering. Sharp, confident. Appearing and closing in with nothing you can do but let the razor sharpness surround you and tear you to slivers, dusky smoke filling your lungs as the fangs fill your skull.

Phantom is too long, limbs just a little too pointed, bending unnaturally. He can contort his body in ways that seem like he has no bones. Plus his shadowstepping is practically teleporting, and he loves to be high up (in the rafters, hanging off the ceiling, lol). Twitchy teethy thing, spindly and spiderlike.

Cumulus feels like intoxication. Like a cloud of venom slowly and sweetly sinking into your lungs, displacing all the oxygen. Drawing you in while a tiny part of your mind screams to run, but why would you? All you've ever wanted, all you can remember is her. Unable to look away as her jaw unhinges....

Mountain is similar to Panto, too tall, too long. It doesn't feel the same though. The mind wants to look over him, not notice him, blend him into the environment. Outside is the worst, though he looks nothing like it, he becomes nothing more than a tree. Until he begins to move of course, jerky and unnatural. Too fast, unphased by damage, bloodless. Hollow. Roots piercing your flesh like paper, growing around (through) you.

Cirrus is directly terrifying. Average height, weight. Slender, still. Danger however very evident. Everything colder, darker, seeming to swallow you in fog. Suddenly you aren't where you were, everything is a maze, you cannot see, but she is approaching. So slow, deliberate, taking her time. Letting you shrink into nothing before the claws flash.

Dew is threatening the way a rabid animal would be. Especially post transformation, there is something wrong about him. Dead, rotten, lunging for your throat. The hiss of smoke escaping his scorched lungs, his thin bony fingers twitching in anticipation of digging into flesh. He's fast, violent, consuming. He has no patience to hunt, only to rend, tear, and consume.

Aurora (Borealis) does not teleport. But she also doesn't NOT teleport. Her image flickers, sparks and glitches mixing pieces. A buzzing hum seems to eminate, filling your mind. Her skin glitters, glistens, light contouring around her as she flashes, close, far, lunging, laughing. Thin fingers closing around your throat from behind, so hot it feels cold as the claws dig in.

Rain is so pretty, how could he ever harm anyone? (Your mouth tastes metallic). He walks like a creature not meant for two legs, unsteady, stiff. Like a harmless baby deer. (You can't breathe). Maybe you should get closer. (Your lungs are so heavy). Hold out a hand, feel his cold clammy skin, like a dead thing (Your vision is spotting). You feel so tired now, letting his hands crawl up you (Maybe you should just close your eyes). It doesn't even hurt.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Okay, but consider a secret competition amongst sinners in the hotel to try and get a clear and legible picture of the radio demon.

Bonus if you make it a selfie.

It starts not so subtly, with several pic attempts that were just selfies the others were taking and alastor just so happened to be around. Wink wink etc.

It takes him all of three seconds to work out what they're up to and in the spirit of entertainment, doesnt really try to stop them per say. Not directly... but he's also not going to make it easy for anyone either.

A few attempts are thwarted by his shadowstep ability just before the shutter clicks, other times the distortion seems stronger than anticipated. But he hasnt worked it out yet right? Nah they're being super subtle about it and he's always humming something, distracted.

They up the ante.

Holes in books people nonchalantly read on the couch. Hidden camera in a picture frame.

One person attempting an obvious photo while another tries covertly.

Even attempting to sneak into his room (bad idea) which only cost a finger.

Trying to catch him whilst he's cooking and relaxed but those damn ears always twitch upright and swivel their way. Fucking stupid deer powers!

Putting a phone on a timer in certain halls when he's supposed to do maintenance... or on his way to his room.

Making up issues with plumbing for maintenance reasons in your boobytrapped room. But even mid task, he comes out a pixellated mess.

Charlie even tried to get a pic through a series of well angled mirrors whilst alastor was reading page 146 of her latest ideas for redemption activities with a grin so strained you'd think he was contemplating second death by tickling. But he'd done it. Read the qhole 231 pages. Which definitely should have been soporific enough...

Husk tried to trick him into getting too drunk to maintain the filter... to no avail. It made it stronger.

Niffty tried through the vents. Poppets hauled her back out with admonishing finger wagging.

Vaggie tied her phone to the end of her spear and threatened him... and he laughed. At that point they started to suspect he was onto them.

Nothing worked.

Lucifer, because it was annoying him now, tried snapping a pic through the tower windows from several metres in the air because wings. Vaggie kicked herself for forgetting she could also do that...

"Are you quite done with your little teamwork activity?" Alastor asks one evening, startling a few who hadn't realised he'd known. "Really, it was admirable how creative some of you were but i have been putting up with the picture box's attempts for several decades now... i know when a camera is pointing my way. Their frequency is į̸͇̈ͅr̸̻̈̐̈́̈́r̴̳̞̈̓̓î̷̻̍́̔͐t̴̫̱̻͌ä̴̡͈̯͙̻́̄̓t̴̹̠͎͚͙̒̾̉į̷̨̮̟̲̔́n̴͍̬̍̃̌̊ģ̵͚̼͓̠̑̓̊̿̈́..."

"Can i take a pretty picture with you sir?" Niffty asks.

He considers it as several others start protesting that that didn't count if you asked. Angel's stance was that if bribery was allowed, then he had some things to put on the table...

Alastor gave a long-suffering glare and told the spider not to put anything on the table he didnt want to lose to tomorrow night's stew. Angel retorted that at least he could then say he'd told the big bad radio demon to eat a dick and it would be technically true...

The starlet got pained static warble tha made the lights flicker, and a whack over the ear from a truly disgusted Vaggie for that one.

Alastor ultimately declines Niffty's offer. "Afraid not, my dear."

She stomps her foot. "I'll tell Miss Rosie you're not being fair..."

He laughs, "HAH! Please Do. She'll find it simply hilarious... she's been trying for years to do the same and not yet succeeded despite her best efforts. Quite putout about the whole thing."

"You know I could just nullify your little static field thing with a snap of my fingers, right?" Lucifer points out.

There's a pointed blare of an air raid siren in response.

Through narrowed eyes and clenched teeth, Alastor replied, "Of course you would need to resort to cheating to win, i assumed locating a break in the field was half the challenge... or is that too tall a task for you, your lowness?"

"The fuck did you call me, sinner?!"

"Someone who seems to like the easy way out, is that not accurate?"

"Okay now you've done it, say goodbye to your little radiowaves cause this is a royal timeout!"

"Stop." Charlie commands, freezing the two men in their tracks, one about to snap his fingers and the other manifesting shadow tendrils to try and rip his majesty's face off.

Maybe wearing that would confuse cameras until the king saw sense?

"I'm sorry if we got too competitive and it impacted your privacy, Al. I should have checked you would be okay with this, knowing you've already been dealing with a stalker..." Charlie said, chagrined. "And dad, I should have remembered how competitive you get over these sorts of things. But that's not an excuse. Neither of you have the right to be so rude to each other. Now apologise!"

"I would rather go vegan, my dear. " Alastor drawled, the strained grin easing slightly as the tendrils receeded into his flesh.

"And I'd rather you stay away from my daughter, you manipulative pinstriped fatherfucker, but here we are. " Lucifer spread his arms wide, theatrically, before deflating and rubbing his temples. "So I'm... sorry for threatening to tear your powers away, I didn't like it when heaven tried that with me. But I will get that picture. There has to be a way."

Alastor's expression flitted from fury to intrigue and then a general neutrality. "Well, if you can be cordial... so can I, I suppose. For Charlotte. I apologise for intending to rip your face off." He sees the blanche on Charlotte's face.

"Ah, I believe my apology was supposed to be around persistently mocking your stature, your tiny-but-mightiness. Apologies, then... but if it will soothe any hurt feelings I will tell you all a secret... there is at least one time when my distortion is not active. Two, if you count being dead, ha hah!" He pointedly ignored Charlie's flinch at his statement. "However I must stress that neither instance involves sleeping or bathing so do please understand that any further attempts to enter my rooms unbidden will be met with harsh penalties."

"Awww..." Angel pouts, then waggles his eyebrows. "I got an idea how to catch you offguard, radio daddy..."

There was a loud audience booing sound from the cane. "No, thank you. Now if that is all, I have a broadcast this evening to prepare for... hmmm?"

Alastor left in a cascade of shadows.

"Do you think he meant when he was broadcasting? Maybe when his signal is already bouncing across the rings, the distortion goes quiet?" Husk says.

"You mean Pride ring only, right? None of these overlords should have the power to reach other rings." Lucifer frowns.

"If you got tv or radio down there in the other rings, that's on vox and alastor. They're the source of it for some reason... apart from my collar, the fact that the phones and radios still worked while he was gone was a good indicator of him still being alive. Otherwise it'd be dead air. Vox can't push his tv as strongly without the ambient support, not with how vast his network is nowadays." Husk shrugs.

"Thats not how sinners are designed to work, how did that even happen? I would have noticed."

"Maybe its not strong enough to catch your attention when you're hyperfocused on other projects?" Charlie offered.

"Maybe. Alright, I actually have to go stop your Aunties in Envy from rampaging, duckling, but I'll be back by dinner. If not, send Vaggie and her spear, I might need the backup." Lucifer smiled, clapping his hands and summoning a portal to a very blue looking place.

If he left it for a few seconds longer to let the sinners see what another ring looked like, who could fault him?

----

Alastor switched out the record and returned to this evening's topic of discussion... Dismemberment: the right tools for your (or their) bodytype. He allowed his larger self to slip the confines of the soul-ly physical and expand out into the radio waves. Much like with his shadows, he could exist as something intangible but definitely alive and aware.

The soothing sensation was ruined by the flicker of several cameras going off around his body, snapping him back like a rubber band. Someone would get eaten for this at the next music break.

He continued the light hearted patter about ensuring you had a hacksaw the same length as your arm and no more to disjoint, because too large and you'd end up tired before you got through the first joint! Too short and it would add hours onto the task.

In the background, several people screamed as shadow tendrils pulled them from the ceiling, vents, in the record cupboard and under his writing desk to toss them out of the recording booth.

The tendrils jabbed pointedly at the On Air sign before retreating.

There were groans of disappointment when several photos were checked and found to have nothing of note to report.

Really... he'd outright told them as much!

Well, seems he may have to try showering at Rosie's tonight if no one was willing to behave. The indignity of being known...

Out the window he spied a number of drones gathering. Hmmm, the television was being bothersome... perhaps a stroll would be in order?

---

Attempting an aerial shot whilst the sinner was distracted in conversation admidst town didn't work out how Vaggie had hoped. She texted the messy attempt to Charlie with a sad emoji face.

The smug fucker then grinned right up at her! The audacity!

She did have to glide through several obnoxious whirring things on the way back to the hotel that removed a few feathers much to her chagrin. Well, at least they needed a preening anyway and Charlie liked the task...

---

Tremors were the first warning that something had gone wrong.

Angel bursting through the front doors calling out that there was an Overlord battle a few blocks over, was the second. He'd been halfway to the hotel, after Val had called him in for a quick fuck and to try on a new little number that Velvette had whipped up for the next club night, when power had shorted out in every direction.

Explosive lightning and laughter echoed around the place, and he (like any sinner with half a braincell to their name) skedaddled to safety. You did NOT wanna get between the bigwigs throwing down.

Pink smoke had begun to flood the area, and he'd vaguely wondered if Valentino and Vox were havving a public breakup again. It happened a few times a year... but they didn't normally get this out of hand.

Speaking of...

There was a wet spine-rattling thud as a large purple arm crunched into the ground outside, destroying part of the driveway. Vaggie swore in frustration, Charlie reminded her that her dad could fix this in a snap, it'd be fine!

There's a rather animalistic roar, and then a too-familiar static shriek, and a rending bone sound that was far too visceral for anyone's mental health as another arm was half ripped off the gargantuan moth overlord.

Vox intersecting Alastor by blasting him with concentrated electricity to drive the Radio Demon from his partner. Allowing Valentino to grab hold of an extended antler and tear it off with several of his hands.

He lost a chunk of flesh for that, but loudly taunted Alastor over this little victory. Buildings were annihilated as wings spread, only for them to fall into shreds as a massive pale creature of too many teeth and voidless eyes enlarged into the battle.

"Is that... Rosie?" Charlie felt her jaw fall open at the revelation.

Niffty was giggling beside her, and patted her hand kindly. "She's really REALLY good at biting when she gets all big!"

"Er... I can see that..." she murmurs back, seeing the way half of Vox's massive screen was shattered into cracked, bleeding lines by her primary jaws. Talons grappling at the moth's wings.

Quite the multitasker.

Alastor's own assualt on the moth pivoted to Vox, as the television clearly readied a charge for Rosie. Tendrils hurled the overlord away and into a nearby 'parkland' (that sinners rarely attended because if the plants didn't kill you, the animals would eat you alive). Several angry fire-breathing ducks set parts of his coat abalze for disturbing their nesting area.

The pair grappled at one another, tearing bloody gouges, blasting static in a way that seemed painful, and using their powers to shred the other. As Rosie circled Valentino, or what was left of him, and deftly tore pieces apart. Without his guns, and when his size didn't give an advantage... he wasn't the best fighter.

Rosie would shred his tongue if he tried to dose her with his venom, and the smoke didn't do much for them at their size. A mild calming effect at best. Probably for the best, who wants an overlord suddenly desperate for stimulation raising your insurance premiums in a way that would have the imp on the other end of the phoneline howling with laughter at the reason for your claim?

In any case, it's a mess over there.

Vox finally seems to be unable to fight back and there's a moment where it looks like Alastor might just kill the man... when Valentino manages to knock Rosie right into the Radio Demon, sending both into a barely-standing office block.

Valentino, what's left of him, maintains a protective stance over Vox, who is starting to lose size. The cannibals grin, acting rather like possessed dolls as they unhinge their jaws and launch forwards, tearing chunks off the nearest wings.

He claws back, violently, and bites at them. Not with the finesse of others, but enough to disorient as some small faction of his spit hits their bloodstreams. Not enough, not when they're titanic in size... but enough to give them a split second's pause as the world tilts slightly, and he jams a claw into Rosie's abdomen.

She snarls, her teeth clacking on bone as she bites at what she can reach. Alastor bites the moth's throat, hard, an audible crunch of windpipe is heard even as Valentino's scrabbling gouges out an eye.

Vaggie has to turn away or throw up, trapped in her own head.

A cry of outrage as the whole powergrid goes dark and a semi-recovered Vox unleashes it at his adversaries, sending the pair reeling. The barely-alive remains of Valentino disappear as he shrinks, a tattered almost-corpse whose flesh sits between painfully clenched teeth as the enlarged overlords are turned into conduits for everything pentagram city has to offer.

"What the fuck did I just portal back to?" Lucifer breaks in, startling more than a few of the horrified spectators.

"I don't... know. One minute we were in here and then Valentino's arm landed outside and... this." Charlie murmurs, bewildered and worried as she sees the two overlords she actually likes start to smoke, char and even catch fire from the sustained charge. "Can we do something? Can we interfere or does that put them at greater risk?"

"We can't. If someone challenges an overlord they can't really turn it down without losing their status, or their life. Part of the whole schtick I really hated most. One minute you're having breakfast, next some whacky motherfucker with a disco theme and some sort of ice powers comes bursting into your house demanding to fight. You just gotta." Husk replied, watching the whole shitshow with a detachment born of too many years of exactly this mess. "I think it'll turn around though."

"And Rosie won't get in trouble for interfering? Or, does that mess with Al's status?"

"Nah, if it's 2 on 1, you can call on an ally to fight them. Or take them on yourself if you're strong enough. I've fought alongside Al more than once, when another triad or duo or whatever upstart overlord group decides to take him on without any notice. Pentious wasn't the most powerful up and comer, but he was usually pretty polite about his attacks; if you let him know you really couldn't do a battle right this instant, he was always open to scheduling one in for later. Think that's why Al never really hurt him, when he could've. You don't punch down and all."

"Oh please, that guy would punch babies if he had half a chance..." snarked Lucifer, automatically.

Husk snorted, but rolled his eyes. "Actually, your majesty, you touch a kid wrong around him or rosie there and they'll turn you inside out. It's fascinating in a way that ruins any chance you'll ever have of sleeping again without seeing it behind your eyelids."

But Rosie and Alastor are moving against the current, and it must surely end soon. The power substations and relays were already exploding all over the city from such a massive drain.

Vox was snatched up and held aloft in a shadow tendril that seemed to glitch a little too hard for cosmetic effect. Rosie delicately snagged up a purple and red thing that must be Valentino.

Whatever they were saying, was lost... but voices grew angry, then frustrated, then petulant... and finally, something blue and lust pink passed from the defeated to the other overlords. Reparations, one would assume.

Almost courteously, Rosie and Alastor then carefully returned Vox and Valentino to a semi-destroyed floor of Vee Tower. Where a rather infuriated Velvette was standing, looking ready to tear everyone involved apart.

Rosie made pleasantries with the younger overlord, and then nodded. The pair moving away from the tower as they began to shrink, shadows overtaking them from the ground up.

"Incoming." Husk warned.

A writhing black pool of shadow coalesced behind them all, inside the lobby and just enough away from the doors as to be hard to see from outside. It spread and shrank, like a too-slow heartbeat.

Eventually disgorging two pale, worse-for-wear overlords flat on the floor in a mix of blood and viscera. Neither appeared conscious, not properly, at any rate.

"Oh shit... how do we even fix this?! Can we...? Niffty, can you get the first aid kit? Ohgosh I can't remember the last time I went to aunty bel's triage training course!" Charlie began to panic.

Vaggie was at a loss. Exterminators didn't GET hurt, at least so they believed, so this was... well, shit, she didn't know what to do?

Husk and Niffty were already in the thick of it before anyone except mabe Angel snapped out of the momentary surprise. The starlet used a disinfectant by the kit and then got stuck in, he'd seen weirder shit when he was in the Family and you couldn't duck off to a doctor, not to mention what they did to the snitches. And of course, you got good at fixing yourself and others up under Val...

He compresses where husk tells him to, all six hands needed for this endeavour. Heh, Angel was gonna be able to brag he'd played a fucked up game of twister with two overlords and be telling the absolute truth. Niffty was wiping at blood with her cloths and dousing anything she could reach in antiseptic. Angel winced and thanked everything these guys seemed utterly out of it.

There was a very pointed whirring click, almost too quiet to notice... but it caught everyone's attention. Lucifer was staring at his phone screen, eyebrow raised.

"He didn't lie... looks like there's one specific situation where the distortion doesn' work." The king explained, fascinated, and honestly a bit perturbed. "Was he expecting one of us to fight him to find out or what? Maybe he does need like, hug therapy or something, Char Char."

"Can you delete that as fast as possible, your majesty? I dunno if he's conscious but Vox is kinda connected to all phones and devices from Voxtech... and if he saw this, well,it'd be all over Pride in the hour. And then we wouldn't be able to keep sinners from trying their luck on rising to Sovereign real fucking fast." Husk said, putting a patch over empty eye sockets so there was at least something keeping out infection until everything reformed.

"He... what? Wouldn't they go after the tv and the moth first?" Lucifer frowned. None of this made sense.

"Yes, and no. See Vox and Val have a lot of airtight contracts keeping them safe in their tower and territory, there's also Velvette who's a goddamn nightmare when she fights. Not to mention, if the two overlords they fought left 'em alive, then a small piece of their protection extends to the spared overlord until they're healed. Or at least mobile. Because to hurt them would be to defy what Al and Rosie wanted by keeping 'em alive, right? It's all politics and backstabbing nonsense." Husk rambled, watching Niffty sew up some rather deep lacerations from the muscle up.

"That's ridiculous."

"That's keeping every one of 'em safe right now."

"Okay, I deleted the picture and emptied my bin. Did you need me to ward it or something?"

"Should be okay. It's YOUR phone after all. Any of us did it, Vox'd know immediately... also yeah, he's probably seen your nudes, so you have to move through the stages of grief on that one on your own. It's not a sex thing, he just values information and turns it into targeted ads. Wasn't nearly as twisted before he joined the Vees."

"That's... not comforting. At all."

"Never said it was. Hey, can you like, heal people? Even enough to give these two a jumpstart? I saw they ate some of Val and Vox, and got some souls in their bargaining, but it might not be enough to fix them given how little blood is on the inside right now."

"He's right, Short King, there's more in the carpet based on ow weak everyone's pulses are. Wonder what the fuck triggered a fight like that?" Angel adds, whistling and trying for flippancy despite the internal panic. This was bad. Like, these two hurt was bad, yeah, but Val being hurt that bad was Real Bad and it was public too... he was going to reduce the studio workers to bloody messes when he got back together.

"...hrrkkkk..." chattered the staff, startling more than a few as Lucifer deigned to ruining his white trousers by kneeling next to Rosie. His hands glowed, and something passed from himself to her, sealing a few of the more superficial wounds and lessing the severity of others. The rest was up to her, of course... but it helped.

Angel felt his chain manifest, and his heart leapt into his throat... until he noticed it trained down to a point on the floor between the downed overlords. It was an odd mishmash of green and a dusky pink that suited Rosie well.

"...renegotiated some assets in the ceasefire..."

Lucifer was reluctantly it must be admitted, holding glowing hands over Alastor with less than stellar enthusiasm. Still, whatever he was doing seemed to have aimed right for the eye socket because that fleshed out quickly enough.

"You two got my contract? From Val? Why? What? I mean, I don't do chicks unless I get paid double, but for this I'm willing to give a discount..." he laughed, semi-hysterical. Which only increased as the chain shattered. His heart was thundering. "What the fuck...?"

The bodies under the hands of so many were shuddering back to life. Clearly more mentally aware than physically at the moment, but that was rapidly changing as the moments wore on.

"...if someone wouldn't mind... getting me a bloody mary... I rather need to flush the taste of... insect from my mouth..." Rosie quips stiltedly, sitting up. "It's like those chalky candies, if they also had a hint of grasshopper. And those wings! I'd rather dust my house with my tongue than do that again."

Husk grumblingly went to grab one now the immediacy of the moment had passed.

"Hmmm, this... feels too much like we're surrounded by bleeding hearts, Rosie dear... so I'm going to hazard a guess we didn't rematerialise anywhere near Susan." Alastor said, sititng up and opening the functional eye warily. "Ah, blast. Do-Gooders. I think I can get us to your emporium if you give me a moment..."

"Noooooo no! Please don't go anywhere you're safe here!" Charlie interjects, having found her voice again as things progressed. "I mean, I'm angry about whatever that was out there and we will be talking about it, but... you're safe here, and I can't believe you managed to free Angel somehow, but there was so much blood so I need you to stop trying to get up or I'm going to have a panic attack!"

"This is, literally, nowhere near the worst thing that has ever happened to either of us, Charlotte dear. Don't worry your pretty head over it." Rosie assured, checking on the tattered state of her attire. "Well, this won't do..." She snaps a new outfit for herself.

Alastor glances down at his own and the ever-present smile is tight. "Ah, yes... one moment, it's quite improper to be seen in such a state of undress." His clothes mend easily over the bandages and fading scars thereunder.

Husk courteously hands Rosie her drink and after a moment of lashing his tail, gave Alastor his preferred Rye. He then had to grab them before either overlord could down them in one gulp, because suddenly Angel was a trembling mess in their arms. Or rather, they were trapped in all six of his.

Rosie reacted with a soothing tone and gentle patting. Alastor appeared to be frozen, like a buffering webpage, before relaxing enough to pat the sobbing creature on the back.

"Oh sugar, I'm pleased our negotiations got you out of that bind but it wasn't just you. All Valentino's stars and a few of the more annoyingly important members of Vox's staff are ours now, to free or renegotiate terms with in whatever way we see fit." She leans in close to share a stage whisper. "We just set you free first 'cause Als fond of you. that's all."

"Don't go giving him ideas, Rosie, he keeps making sexual offers at me as it is." Alastor's tone is mildly strained at that, and she laughs at him. "Oh? Should I perhaps go and tell Rosie you suddenly want to spend time discussing her concerns for town each Tuesday at noon?"

Rosie gasped. "You wouldn't dare, I'd tear you limb from limb!"

"Oh I would, now stop encouraging this emotional... whatever this is and do your soothing thing so he'll let go."

"Pfft, Angel Dust would you mind releasing us? I know you're thinking through a lot in that head of yours but if you show too much affection in Al's direction, he may catch fire. Or, worse, he'll set susan on me." Rosie cajoles, until Angel feels able to transition over to the waiting arms of husk.

"I'm also kinda worried about what Val's gonna do when he reforms... normally if he loses something, or gets caught in public, he takes it out on his contracts." Angel admits. "Sometimes he has bits of you torn off for more fucked up videos, and sometimes he just fuck ya til... til you gotta reform. He can get through a whole studio when he's in a rage."

"Never you mind that, he agreed to our renegotiation and now all the contracts have to be approved through us. New and old, and the first thing we demanded was an enthusiastic consent clause, any attempt to void it will breach contract and we will be forced to eat the fool."

"With the right spices, I'm sure we can bear the indignity." Alastor commisserates.

Charlie squeaks in delight. "Are you saying Valentino can't hurt anyone anymore? His souls?"

"Not unless they give consent, and only until they say stop or revoke it in some way." Alastor shrugs, already mentally thumbing through his cookbooks for the right recipe for the moth. Let's be real, he won't last a week without trying something, and then it will be insect for dinner.

"What started this off?" Vaggie asked, suspicious gaze on Alastor.

"Oh, you will love this Vagatha..." he pauses for dramatic effect. "You did! All of you with your little camera game trying to take a photo, it somehow sent Vox into quite the spiral of jealous rage, and he tried to use drones to 'win'. When that failed, the fool confronted me as I was out on a leisurely walk with Rosie..."

"Right through the entertainment district, huh? What a strange route to take from the hotel to cannibal town." Husk quips at them, not falling for their shit for a moment.

"Indeed, how strange that Vox and his paramour waylaid us as we accidentally moved through their territory." Alastor shrugged, and stiffened as that pulled at more than a few stitches. "Ah well, mistakes were made... like those idiots assuming they could confront us and not be dealt with accordingly! Ha-HAH!"

"Are they going to hurt the hotel?" Lucifer jumps in, glaring at the overlords.

"No, and any anger will be aimed directly at Rosie and myself.The residents are safe..." Alastor replied.

Rosie claps her hands, "Oh in all the excitement I forgot that Vox was forced to promise that any reporting he completes on the hotel or associated residents will be neutral at the least, unless he wants to face reprisal. He was quite put out."

They laugh again, the sound as jovial as it was exhausted.

Charlie seemed to be dealing with a whirring mind. "Wait, that's ah-mayyyyy-zing! But... this was our fault? The game triggered all of..." she gestures at the blood and chaos before her, "THIS?!"

Husk returned the glasses, and both overlords swigged it down to chase away lingering bad tastes. The feline watched them, but merely took the glasses withour an offer to refill. he's not handling drunken, injured overlords whose tolerance was as low right now as their percentage of blood inside their bodies.

"Don't worry about it, dear. Vox would have found any reason at all to confront me, that's just how he is. Have you concluded your game yet, though? I would assume at least one of you has worked out that the distortion field is nullified by circumstances wherein the power is required to heal or manage damage. Hmm? I would..." he paused like the word was acidic, 'trust... that you will not be sharing that with Vox? He would devote his afterlife to ensuring I could never block his view again, the perverted voyeur."

"Of course we won't!" Charlie assures.

"I might, if you keep making short jokes." Lucifer says, just to be contrary.

"Now Alastor are you treating a man of his majesty's stature with anything less than respect? He's going to get short with you." Rosie deadpanned, not quite stiffling her laughter.

Lucifer dragged a hand down his face. "Oh Father, there's two of you..."

He was just preparing to send them to sleep for a little healing nap, and to stop them from mocking him again but that was definitely not the main focus here. Of course not.

When Rosie frowned and put a hand to her temple, swaying into an equally confused Alastor. He was glaring at the bartender... but only momentarily as the pair ffell bonelessly onto the floor again. Dazed and blinking slowly a few more times before succumbing to sleep.

Lucifer grinned at the cat. "You dosed them in their drinks? Devious."

"You ain't never had to deal with how infuriatingly peppy those two get when healing, all manic energy until they collapse in the middle of some important task and things go to shit. Easier to let them sleep it off and regain a bit of power first. Can't recall the last time I had to do that... think I used something in a sinner meat sandwich then, though."

"Alright, can we at least get them somewhere comfortable and safe? I don't like that they're laying back in their own blood again..." Charlie interjects. She has an expression on her face that said she was going to Talk to husk very shortly about drink spiking, even if it was necessary.

Angel, still shuddering with aftershocks of relief and fear and just general Holy Shit I'm Free, bends to collect up the Radio Demon as Lucifer deftly carries Rosie into the staff-only lounge area to set them down.

"What?" Lucifer says, when a few people glance at him in surprise. "Char Char, your mother is taller than Rosie, and I managed to carry her around for millennia with no issue... heck, I could carry both of them if I wanted to. now let's get them clean so we don't ruin the upholstery..."

With a snap the newly conjured clothes and sinner's flesh is wiped free of all traces of grime. Only scars, bandages and bruises remain. Rapidly healing before their eyes.

"Niffty, can you fix the stain by the door?" Niffty?" Vaggie looks all over and the maid is just Gone.

So is the stain.

"How did she do that?" the ex-orcist shuddered.

"That's my secret!" comes a barely-sane sing-song tone from the wall to her left, making Vaggie startle. "I cleaned it real good!"

"That you did, kiddo." Husk agreed, unaffected by the horror movie style situation. "Now come outta there so you can take a nap with Al and Rosie, I know you wanna."

"I can?" she gasps and pops out, heading right for the couches the pair were draped upon. She seemed at a loss, but ultimately picked up Alastor's staff and curled up on Rosie, falling fast asleep with her eye wide open.

"That's terrifying and cute. What the fuck is wrong with me that I think that's sorta sweet?" Vaggie murmured.

"So, you get to sleep on Smiles, or can I take one for the team?" Angel nudges Husk in the side and grins.

Husk rolls his eyes. "If you wanna get eaten, sure. I mean, he'd let me, s'long as I purr at some point, but like niffty I wouldn't go putting pressure on those chest wounds til they healed."

Angel's mouth was open. "He what?! Is it a pressure thing? Cause I am very good at playing weighted blanket... and also, go back to the part where you purr?"

"Let's not. And let's be real, if we need something about Niffty sized, his majesty would be the ideal sacrificial... goat or serpent, I guess."

Charlie seemed to adopt a puzzled, musing expression there as if trying to picture it. Vaggie was clearly doing so and her expression was both amused... and haunted.

Husk grinned maliciously at the King, who was spluttering in horror back at the cat. "I mean, if you want to get technical... sure. But the fight they'd have on Al realising it wasn't Niffty wearing a weird hat for some reason, would be legendary. The hotel might not survive."

"I could get behind that..." Angel murmured, picturing something no one wanted to ask about in detail. "I could get Fat Nuggets though, if you think it'd help?"

"...actually, I think someone volunteered already." Husk replied, amused as KeeKee took the chance to sit on the ever-warm Radio Demon. he only ever pet her in private, of course because the Big Bad Reputation might take a hit if he's seen being kind to animals and not punching crying babies or something.

"Okay, I know he'd hate it, but I really wanna take a photo right now..." Charlie groaned, frustrated at the impulse but t was soooo cute and her drawings never came out quite right.

"And start this mess all over again? No thanks. I've had enough of an emotional rollercoaster today!" Angel jokes back, collpasing into an armchair and only vaguely eyeing the drink husk brings him with suspicion. "Reckon I need someone to sit in my lap and purr for me, yeah?"

He nearly drops the drink when Husk does. In full loaf form.

Alastor's cane crackled to life. "Get the picture. You may never get another chance, my dear!"

Charlie frantically takes a number of rapid-fire shots of the rather serious looking Husker and the truly blessed and slightly dazed Angel Dust.

"Char-Char, today has been ridiculous, I think we should all sit down for an hour and just relax. Sound good?" Lucifer offers, conjuring more plush furniture as his daughter and her girlfriend sink into the softness of a couch. He wiggles between them and wraps his wings around the pair, drawing them in.

"That looks cozy as fuck, I'd be jealous if I didn't have a lapful of gorgeous man." Angel mumbles, half-asleep already. Lucifer realised the rest of them were still a mess and snaps away the remaining blood and grime. "Thanks short king, lemma suck ya-..." it trails off into a soft snore.

"Phew, that could have been weird." Lucifer mumbled, feeling Charlie rest her head on his shoulder and snuggle close. Vaggie tried, but was somewhat stiffer, until he made a rather pointed soft trill that angels shared when roosting with one another. And she settled instantly.

"Okay, maybe sinners aren't all bad... even if they do insane shit that turns out altruistic in the end." He murmurs, looking at the two overlords, who stirred lightly but settled easily enough when Niffty and KeeKee redistributed their weight accordingly.

"...high praise... from a not-too-terrible father..." crackles the cane.

It makes Lucifer laugh, rather than furious. "Oh, coming from you Captain daddy issues?"

Angel murmurs something suspiciously like "...c'n be ya daddy...' before his head lolls.

Lucifer can't contain the snort. "Alright, will you actually go to sleep if I put on one of your radios?"

"...deal, your Majesty."

With a snap, something slow and soft fills the air, coercing the last few eyes to close after such an oddly eventful afternoon. At least it was never boring around here.

---

End

Random idea i had, not meant to be THIS LONG, couldnt work out how to end it, its 1am fml

[azzie-beastbinder]

Changes

There were many things that Koda Hayashi cherished in his life, especially as of late. His family in the Dokuchi Reckoners and Satoru. His new adopted family in Arturo, Lazaro, and Vasro. His bond with Haruko. His alliances with Shigeki, Goro-Goro, and now Captain Moena. But above all, he cherished the orphanage and every child in it.

There were quite the number of them; seventeen, to be exact. Spot-Tail, Flower-Nose, and Maple-Paw, the three kitsune who weren’t siblings by blood but may as well have been. The three soratami siblings of Voteko, Anari, and Ineto. The older nezumi twins of Hayeyes and Cloudshadow and the younger nezumi twins of Palefur and Embereye. Takuroshi, the only ogre of the group. Kit-Kit and Mur-Mur, the akki twins who were simultaneously orphans and also still members of the Warren of Dragons. Shadowstep, the Innistradi human werewolf that Gesserith was in the process of adopting. And the triplet orochi sisters, Sachie, Seiko, and Sheo.

The last thing Koda ever wanted was for them to get hurt. That was why he spent so much time and income for his gang to find them good homes. But no one wanted children, they wanted babies, and no one wanted to take in a whole slew of children at once. Koda refused to separate the kids from their closest siblings.

Koda couldn’t keep everything up. With Lethaltooth and Silentsign still away on business and with Goldenscar and Ghostmark preparing to leave to attend Strixhaven University, it would fall to Koda and whatever visitors he had over to care for all of the kids, to look after the gang, and to operate Jinja Dokuchi.

But that wasn’t why he had gathered the kids this morning. No, this was about the changes he had to deal with.

It was in the living room while everyone ate breakfast. The kids were allowed to eat in the living room because they would clean up after themselves, something that couldn’t be said for some of the visitors (such as Arturo). The kids mostly stayed in batches, with the more quiet and nervous ones far from the door to the dining room and all of the noise coming from it.

Koda took a deep breath. “So, there’s something very important I need to tell you all about,” he began, reminding himself that he was talking to a group of children between the ages of five and eleven rather than to his Dokuchi Reckoners. “You all know that I got to meet my father recently, right? An oni.” Shimatsu, the oni who had fathered Koda, was still around the orphanage. Koda had been speaking to him regularly about the changes going on.

The kids nodded or otherwise made noises of affirmation. Their attention was locked onto him. They knew that it was important. The soratami siblings seemed a little nervous at the mention of oni, which was understandable; Lethaltooth had rescued them from an oni cult, after all.

“Well, there have been things that have been happening to my body that are related to me being part oni,” Koda continued. He was being very, very careful in choosing his words. Far more careful than during his meeting with Boss Falco Spara, anyway. “I’ve gotten some new magic from it too, but I’m working on controlling that. The important part is that...” Fuck, how was he going to explain this to the kids? Respect their intelligence, make it clear to them. “...I have two mouths now.”

“Two mouths?” Palefur piped up, his ears at attention and his tail twitching. “Where’s your second one?”

“It’s located in my back, about here,” Koda said, gesturing down to where it was located. “I can eat through it, and it can make noise, but we’re not sure if I can talk out of it yet.”

“If you can, that would make it easy to be a ventriloquist,” Anari piped up.

Flower-Nose giggled. Her tail began wagging. “Or you could call people bad words to their faces while your face-mouth isn’t moving!”

All of the kids were taking this well. Even the quieter nezumi, Cloudshadow and Embereye, didn’t seem alarmed by this news.

Koda cleared his throat quietly, drawing their attention back to him. “I wanted to let you all know because I’m not sure what else will be changing, okay? I might start to look more and more like an oni as time goes on. As far as we know, I’m the first half-human half-oni, so I don’t know a whole lot about what will happen to me.”

“Will you look like Zenkuro?” Sheo asked, tilting her head. Like her two sisters, she was curled over a chair rather than sitting fully in it.

“Probably not, because Zenkuro is a city oni, and my father is a mountain oni. I’ll probably look a lot more red or orange than he does.”

“Are you gonna get horns?” Takuroshi asked quietly. “You’d look cool with horns.”

Koda laughed despite his own nerves. “I’m not sure about that either. But I’ll let you know if they start growing in.”

This went on for the rest of breakfast, with Koda fielding questions from all of the kids about his oni changes and even accidentally demonstrating his new frost magic when he sneezed. Needless to say, the kids made fun of him while he cleaned up the table he covered in frost.

Koda was just glad that they were taking it well.

[j-trow-95]

Six (or seven) Sentence Sunday

Thanks for the tags this week @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony and @thewholelemon .

So, this week marked the end of 2024's PaWriCo (an alternative to NaNoWriMo), and while I definitely didn't meet my target of 100k, I did manage to crank out over 40k in three months, which I'm super pleased with.

Since November I've been working steadily on another rewrite of my original novel, A Survivor's Revenge, which is a speculative fiction espionage thriller (with a dash of romance, a heavy heaping of sass and banter, and lots of low fantasy elements). I'm feeling so excited about this draft and the bits of discovery writing I'm getting to do with it.

So, word counts:

30 Dec - 5 Jan: 0 words

6-12 Jan: 4,531 words

13-19 Jan: 5,389 words

20-26 Jan: 2,297 words

27 Jan - 2 Feb: 1,519 words

JANUARY TOTAL = 13,736 WORDS

And with no further ado's, here's a few sentences. This is from an earlier chapter, featuring a few code names.

“Metropolitan and InterPol forces are gathered in the rocky outcrop just north of the base,” Clarissa says over our earpieces. “Waiting on orders, Whiskey Eye.” “Rodger that, Molotov,” I reply. “Still can’t believe that was the one that stuck,” Clarissa grumbles. “Why do you two get the cool code names?” “It’s not our fault you got too excited the first time we worked with the demo teams,” Ada tells her. “You never know when a molotov’s gonna come in handy.”

On the topic of code names, I am still trying to work out a few, so if anyone wants to help brainstorm/has any ideas for field code names please don't hesitate to let me know (coming up with names is my least favourite part of writing original characters!).

Currently I have: Whiskey Eye; Shadowstep; Molotov; Deadeye.

Tagging for this week:

@artsyunderstudy @aristocratic-otter @blackberrysummerblog @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla

@confused-bi-queer @emeryhall @erzbethluna @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature

@ic3-que3n @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @letraspal @martsonmars

@mooncello @nausikaaa @nightimedreamersworld @orange-peony @shrekgogurt

@skeedelvee @theearlgreymage @thewholelemon @you-remind-me-of-the-babe 

[lioma-gaming]

Noctis: "What're you doing here? Didn't you say you had no interest climbing down 'this filthy hole'?" Ardyn: "Oh, I did and I still do. But then where would you be without my guidance? I suppose someone will have to drag your sorry remains back to the surface when things turn sour, and from what I've seen, you are entirely incapable of staying out of trouble." Gladio: *smirks* "Will you look at that. He cares." Ignis: "Hardly. I suspect it's rather his personal investment in our endeavour that he worries about." Ardyn: "Your Royal advisor's observation is as astute as always. But then again, does it truly matter why I've come to help you?" Noctis: "Yea. Yea it does." Gladio: "A lot."

So, I tried bringing Ardyn with me into the Crestholm Channels dungeon, which didn't work at first, I guess because he doesn't have an animation for climbing ladders. But, once I've walked far enough away from the entrance, he just shadowstepped teleported after Noctis & Co.

Learned a couple of things about this supposedly broken party member:

Ardyn can take damage, but won't enter Danger state or drop dead. HP and Max HP recover at a normal pace.

It's not possible to use items on him, as he doesn't pop up in the selection.

He uses different walking animations when exploring a dungeon, just like the Chocobros. Also wears a more tense look.

It's possible to equip swords in Ardyn's primary and secondary weapon slot, but he can't use them or attack in general. He does, however, rush at enemies from time to time so his battle AI might not be entirely broken. Would love to have given him the Mutant Rakshasa Blade, but since it's a great sword, it's not part of the "sword" selection.

He ended up getting stuck on the ledge when I dropped down to fight the Nagarani (which is a pity, because I have yet to find out if he can suffer status ailments) and I chose to teleport out of the dungeon because frankly, I've gotten lost way too many times in Crestholm Channels in my previous playthroughs.

Will try the Bavlouve Mines with him, though!

Also, love Prompto's dungeon commentary. <3

[shintaru]

Before I die, I'm tryna fuck you, baby Hopefully we don't have no babies | Dom Kang pt.1 part 2, & part 3

Goes with these nsfw head canons

m.list ♡ taglist You and Shelly got stuck with babysitting thanks to her grandfather volunteering her to do so and of course she had to drag you along. Even though your original plans to go shopping with Shelly got postponed for another time due to unforeseen circumstances you don’t mind.

You love kids, you'd like to have some one day. You and Shelly study as the kids you’re babysitting are napping. “Shit I forgot my homework at school” you tell Shelly. “The guys had to stay back with Jay for a meeting with my grandfather because of their last race you can ask Dom if he can bring you your homework” she responds. “Thank you!! You’re a lifesaver” you tell her as you text Dom asking him to bring your homework. He agrees to bring it to you and you tell Shelly.

While you both wait on Dom you continue using Shelly’s homework to study as you both talk. “Do you think my mother in law would approve of me having Jay’s kid?” Shelly asks. You make a semi shocked expression. “First you both need to get married then maybe you can think about the kids” you tell Shelly “I know but you seen how she was when he stayed away from home for a few days it makes me worried that she won’t like me”  she responds pouting with rose colored cheeks “Shelly everyone one likes you, she’s going to love you” you reassure her. Which has her bouncing back to normal. “What about you?” She asks. “Huh what about me?” You ask “well do you want to have kids one day?” She asks “yeah I’d love to have them some day” you respond before Shelly could say anything else Dom walks in and announces he has your homework.

You rush over and hug him, thanking him for bringing it to you. You can’t afford to have another failing grade. Little did you know Dom had overheard your conversation with Shelly about having kids. He’s had a crush on you for ages and thought about you having his kids. So the fact you want to have kids makes him ecstatic. 

Dom can’t get it out of his head the whole time the humming birds make him train for a full week without breaks except to eat and sleep. You and Dom didn’t have the chance to hang out much during this time. 

“The end of the week is finally here”  Dom shouts to Minu happily. Their training sessions with Shelly’s grandfather are finally over. Dom was supposed to go to the mall with you a few days ago but Shelly’s grandfather made them have a meeting about their race saying they needed to train more and made them train right then and there with no exceptions. So to make it up to you Dom decided he would go to your house and surprise you with watching all your favorite movies together. 

Dom walks in on you bent over pulling the stockings up on your lingerie giving him a full view of your ass and pussy .Dom immediately gets hard, you don’t notice him at first still struggling with the garters attached to your stockings. If you were anyone else Dom would leave without mentioning anything to spare the person from embarrassment unless it was one of the boys then he’d laugh seeing them naked or he wouldn’t even think about it but with you he just can’t take his eyes off you.

He takes in the sight of your red lingerie set as you struggle fixing your stockings you had on a thin lace bra on with a mini skirt that conveniently for him does a horrible job at covering anything. 

Especially since you had no underwear on, having your pussy and ass on full display for him. You had matching  stockings that squeezed your thighs just right. He was in a daze when you raised back up to look in the mirror after you get  your lingerie situated. You take a second to admire yourself when you notice Dom in the mirror behind you. Shocked, you try to cover yourself.

Dedicated to @cozyunderworld @samuelseowife

[shadowstep]

Florian found himself back in the last place he expected to be in, Area Zero. While he tries to head back to the surface, he soon realizes that the Paldea that he returned to may not be the one that he had known. And with a certain Pokémon’s powers leading to the return of an old opponent resurfacing and different timelines exposed, he will have to work with old and new friends to return things to normal.

Juliana never expected her life would once again be turned upside-down when all she wanted was to show her friends from Unova a summer vacation in Paldea they would never forget. But life for her had never been normal ever since she started her Pokemon journey. At least she could spend time with her friends by saving Paldea once again from another major threat, alongside the boy she never expected to meet.

All Kieran wanted was to enjoy a wonderful summer vacation exploring Paldea with his friends, thanks to the invitation from the one trainer he had grown to love. But of course fate seemed to side against him. Well, as long as he’s got his most treasured friend by his side, he could overcome any obstacle that stood in his way.

Hello everyone! I've made a new fic, an AU set after the Indigo Disk DLC story with a cross between the Scarlet and Violet universes. Expect a new adventure with Juliana, Florian, the rival characters, along with romantic bonding between specific characters like Dipplinshipping, and lots of timeline shenanigans. Two chapters are currently out right now, but I'm looking forward to expand on this story even further.

If you have any comments or questions about this fic, you can send an ask/message on my tumblr @shadowstep or send a comment through Ao3. I hope you enjoy reading my story if it catches your interest.

[raptorix]

Used my Beacon access to buy a ticket for the Live Show next month (Yay!) And also listened to the first 3 episodes of Re-Slayer's Take podcast. :D

Thoughts on Re-Slayer's Take:

Great for newbies who are familiar with but not caught up with all of Critical Role. The GMs spell out more setting unique character descriptions, (What's a Tiefling? What's a Firbolg?) but also reward veterans with references we would know (like Vox Machina's brief run with The Slayer's Take.)

More spoilery thoughts behind the 'Read More'

So this is a far more produced & edited podcast than an actual-play. You're not going to hear out-of-character jokes or discussions about gameplay rules. Fully sound edited & music score.

Did my best to endure the constant squelching noises they used for the Gelatinous Cube encounter in the first episode. Someone recorded extended sessions of playing with slime or slurping on Boba *just* for that foley. DX

As for characters: Good charming cast! They utilize the 'DM PCs & player PCs' play style. One of the DMs plays as Timpani the Firbolg to help guide the story directly, while the other does narration & gameplay, and I think plays as the Goblin sidekick, Poogs.

I think I need to go back and re-listen to the first episode for intros. They don't spell out what classes the characters are playing. D:

I can't for the life of me understand why Farah the half elf (???) uses a gravely voice besides 'She's older.' Guessing from her choice in crossbow she's a ranger, though she might be a blood hunter/ranger build? She's been working as a monster hunter prior to her audition to try and join the Slayer's Take, and seems to be looking for a more consistent employment with them.

Heera Agniheart is possibly an Inquisitor Rogue, since she has a high intelligence & insight ability stats, and used sneak attack and a finesse weapon. Also an ochre yellow tiefling w/ water buffalo style horns. The artwork crops that feature out and I'd love to see a full portrait of that :O

Frog is delightful, and I hope to see more Aeormaton characters in Exandria. To make it easier, lore-wise, she was revived w/ full amnesia & is fully unfamiliar with current day Exandria. But she apparently trained with some Monks first, so gets to be the dodge-tank for the group.

Idrin Shadowstep is a Half Elf/Half Orc (I think of the lineage Matt designated as common in Jrusar) and appears to have a sorcerer lineage of either clockwork soul, or an Exandria-Dunamancy variant of it. He has a special time reversal ability he can use to re-roll his or his party member's failed rolls. Very noble of intentions and the neophyte adventurer.

DM PC Timpani Guff took Matt's Midwestern/Canadian accent he used on Pumat Sol and ran with it. A circle of spores druid who fills in as the party's healer & guide. He's trying to get the Slayer's Take to listen to his observations of an extra-planar force bringing old Slayer's Take monsters back from the dead. But because he's lied about his affiliation with them before, the members wont listen to his warnings. So now he's leading this little adventuring group to investigate this while the Slayer's Take willfully ignores it.

Re-Slayer's Take is a difficult title, IMO. RST might be a good acronym. Maybe shorten it to 'Reslayers'?

It's also all-ages friendly. No curse words!!! Injuries also are not graphic. (PCs get bruises or get knocked out, but nothing deadly.) Stakes are challenging, but like in an action cartoon and not infantilizing. I have listened to another podcast attempt to an all-ages spin-off after the prior story setting was explicit, and they started out with kid-gloves and low stakes that almost put me to sleep. Thankfully Reslayers doesn't go that route. We're playing DnD and we got DnD monsters to fight!

Setting timeline-wise is between The Mighty Nein and Bell's Hells. So maybe if we revisit Issylra in the current campaign, we might see/hear of the Reslayers. We'll have to see later, however, as the Reslayers progress their storyline.

Reblogs with any lore corrections from a re-listen or future Encyclopedia Exandria entries.

[msvblight]

Thinking about an idea I had for a modded custom class. "Agent" or "Operative" Based around staying concealed with reduced detection radius (similar to reaper) but with a variety of hacking options or utility options.

So one branch could be "Saboteur" which involves hacking, damage against machines, setting mines/claymores and the remote start ability, and weapon malfunction.

Another would involve them carrying gear. Such as having a free battlescanner and the poison ammo etc

The other branch is about staying in stealth, so all the standard stuff for returning to concealment and whatnot. Maybe also shadowstep

Weapons-wise They'd be pistol and combat knife only. Maybe an optional trait on one of the branches that lets you give them a bulpup

[dasozelotvonnebenan]

6, 15, 25 for Aerana AND the OC(s) currently taking up a lot of space in your mind 👀

I have been thinking about the co-mmanders again, so I'll throw in those when relevant.

6. What combat situation are they better suited for? Can they handle a 1v1 fight or do they prefer to have someone always on their side? How do they deal with larger-scale combat and what's their role in it (frontlines/leading the charge, backline/support, as far from it as possible, etc)? What happens if they are ambushed or outnumbered? Is there any situation that stressed them particularly?

Aerana: Should not be in any combat situation. She gets sick at the sight of blood and can't control her magic at a sufficient strenght. She should be sitting somewhere indoors looking at a holographic projection of the area telling people where to go.

Commander Aluen: Best suited to fight against large groups on her own, simply because she is big and strong enough to take out multiple enemies in one swing. Her real heart is in tactics though, she stays out of fighting unless her strength is really needed.

Commander Wurmslayer: Right at home on the frontlines. Excellent teamwork, very aware of his surroundings and very quick to figure out how the people around him tend to move.

Commander Fenquin: Talented Duellist and as such best in single combat, though don't be surprised when he uses his shadow magic to punch much above his weight in group engagements.

Commander Posh: They consider themselves a scientist and wouldn't seek a fight ever, but of course working for the pact doesn't always give them the freedom to stay away from that. This is their enemies greatest boon, because Posh's portal magic enhanced marksmanship makes them probably the most dangerous of the commanders.

Commander Steelforge: Prefers to work in a group, magically enhancing their weaponry, or tending to the tanks and siege weaponry. Absolutely capable of making a stand on his own too though.

15. How powerful is their magic compared to their peers? How do they feel about it? Is it their limit?

Aerana: Excellent person to ask this about. This is a complicated topic. Aerana has trouble controlling the flow of magic. Even with strong foci she only dares use very weak magic, barely enough to hurt anyone. Anything more, and she simply lets loose at full power until she falls unconscious from exhaustion, often further hurting herself in the process.

Commander Fenquin: Not powerful, but extremely adept at utilising it to it's fullest potentional. A little shadowstepping goes a long way if you know how to integrate it into your fighting.

Commander Posh: Mesmer Collective level powers and the intellect to use them very efficiently.

Commander Steelforge: Averagely powerful, but implemented in an unusual way which makes it hard to compare.

25. Do they use a weapon or magic unique to them/that's not present in-game? If so, how does it work?

Aerana: Uses air magic as a welding tool.

Commander Aluen: Well she is a Vinetooth Prime shaped

Commander Wurmslayer: Still uses weapons while Wolf shaped

Commander Fenquin: Shadowsteps only work in shadows

Commander Posh: Dual Pistols that work kind of like mesmer rifle

Commander Steelforge: Elementalist magic enhanced engineer weapons.

[harukehn]

Unusual muse associations - Harukehn

Tagged by @lyhil ty <3

Seasoning: Cinnamon, ginger, vanilla

Weather: A calm but heavy rain in the aftermath of a storm

Colour: Deep red (thinking about bloodwood sap)

Sky: The darkest part of night, just before dawn

Magical power: Shadowstep/mistwalking

Plant: Lotus... (obvious. but i have read so much about lotus plants recently and there's SO much about the plant that I have incorporated into his biology I should write up some stuff about it. I went hunting down some plants irl for research lmao)

Weapon: Axe

Subject: Creative writing

Social media: Livejournal (he would have 0 followers)

Make-up product: Shimmery gold eyeliner (drawn very thick)

Candy: Liquorice (soft, chewy liquorice. i dont know if thats actually common everywhere else in the world or no? especially the stuff with the sweet white centre)

Fear: Failing others, not living up to expectations... basically, not being seen as Totally Perfectly Capable

Ice cube shape: Large sphere

Method of long distance travel: Skyscale or the Mists

Piece of stationery: An ornate wax letter seal

Three emojis: 🪷🌌♨️

Celestial body: Jewel Box (the star cluster!)

Tagging @commanderthalys and @sunsrefuge! (but of course no pressure ❤️)

[manasurge]

GW2 30 Day Challenge

6. Favourite Elite spec?

(I couldn't find any fancy pics of my own to use, so instead have a couple angles of mirage cloak glitching out and turning the Mirage into an eternal swirling and glowing vortex. These are old screenshots before the Aurene mounts were released as well since I use those for my main) It's... Mirage!! (surprising to absolutely no one who knows me). I just LOVE being invulnerable and hard to hit, plus all the mobility that comes with the spec and the SUPER fast gameplay (I love very fast inputs and reactions, which makes playing slower classes difficult for me bc I'm impatient and spam click abilities lkdjflsf). Being able to jaunt/blink everywhere, shadowstep, clone+phantasm distractions, and evasion hax dodging (mirage cloak my beloved) made dodging part of my rotation, making me really dumb with a lot of other classes bc I instinctively want to dodge all the time due to muscle memory. Also fun fact: Mirage/Mesmer was the first spec that I used a 80-boost on, and I was able to learn it just fine! (and even became my favourite!) so boosting a class to learn it is totally okay in my opinion!! Just do cozy open world map comp to ease your way into it and it'll be cherry!

Granted I also don't exactly play the class as intended. While I have 3 builds for her (guess I should say my main, Vespaura), I tend to just use her power build (since Mirage is moreso meant for Condi and boons or w/e, which I have builds for and also never use lol). I think this build I like to use was originally made for the Labyrinth (tagging everything with GS), but I tweaked it a bit with other preferences since it has pretty good survivability and is an absolute monster when I attack huge groups of mobs (Greatsword lasers are the best invention and it NEVER gets old. Also the amount of laser ricochet gets me pretty high damage and looks absolutely bonkers on my side (what a lightshow!), plus my lasers are HOMING lasers, which means they will automatically hit any enemies in the vicinity around me and helps out if I don't notice them from a different angle, allowing me to re-orient myself. I also don't have to worry too too much about aim bc of this too! (oh yeah, and especially with relics being a thing now. Mabon relic has been pretty neat so far cuz I can take advantage of that boost being used to hit all those targets!). Though power GS does fall a bit against single targets, but that's fine! (I sort of have the daggers for that at least!). I also play with a trackpad, which is a funny thing to tell ppl, especially when playing a class like Mirage, lol. I just hate using a mouse and only have it for certain games that force me to use it. I just don't want carpel tunnel and my wrist is more relaxed this way (never had problems! so far at least). I just love playing at ranged with non-ranged weapons (Greatswords, daggers. Mine actually has all 3 types of blades (very lesbian of her) bc she has a sword as well. I literally gave her both of Caithe's weapons askjflfj. I'm so glad that I can give my Mirage daggers now!! much more fun than another sword/axe!). It's just so much fun, and I CAN'T WAIT to see what rifle is gonna be like!! I just love ranged classes bc stacking ALWAYS gets me killed constantly... so yeah I'm the annoying person who doesn't like stacking bc I'd rather not be dead!!!!! (I'm sorry I just HATE stacking. I can't see SHIT and it's just so much visual noise for me!! let me breathe!!) and plus I revive everyone in fights thanks to invulnerabilities allowing me to rez through attacks. You're welcome!!! (I rez so many people during metas and other fights) I also just love Mesmer in a class in general bc it's unique in comparison to a lot of other fantasy classes, and I just adore the concept and the aesthetics (flamboyant fancy dramatic magic user? HELL YEAH. Literally the gayest magic user ever and I'm eating it up). I also love the ability to make clones and all the pretty butterflies, and phantasms and all that! I know a lot of ppl don't like clones/phantasms, but they save my ass every time and I appreciate them very much.

[himbopunk]

okay so i am brainstorming for dragon age au yuvan lore right so

im thinking the heirloom that causes the abilities are a depiction of symbols of falon'din and dirthamen, specifically an owl (or a cloaked figure stylized like an owl) and the spindly pointy parts of a varterral clutching around it. falon'din has this whole thing about travelling beyond the veil where others cant follow and then theres the story about dirthamen going to find him, also falon'dins symbols get attached to lusacan, old tevinter dragon god of night which would carry some similar symbolism for the abilities attached for yuvans ancestors who wouldve lived in tevinter

i think the ability theyd gain from it is like. an echo of whatever that original ability falon'din had might've been. like, we've seen the ways that certain stories about elgar'nan and ghilan'nain were true just in that theyre like insane abilities beyond the scope of any current magic. i imagine like, falon'din's ability to travel some place Beyond what others could percieve had some truth to it, especially since this is before the veil so like what is this Other Place that hes able to occupy? idk.

anyways i think logistically it translates to like a shadowstep type thing, i feel like im cheesing it a bit by just reflavoring some of yuvans original powers but like it works thematically? and elgar'nan has light powers so it makes sense that theres shadow powers around somewhere. and its one of those powers that seems like, regular mage bullshit to anyone unfamiliar w magic but to those who are its like, okay this isnt the fadestep thing or whatever, and this isnt necromancer magic ive seen before, this is something else, youre going Somewhere Else how the hell are you doing that

(also i think it would also be cool if this was an ability originally given to some like, old elven assassin type group during the elven empires war with old tevinter, leans into how yuvan is kind of rogue-y despite being a mage. kind of funny bc its now remiding me of taash's line to lucanis about becoming invisible to a dragon by standing in its shadow or w/e and the idea that this could have actually been something some type of assassin could have done like millenia ago is pretty fun.)

(also since yuvan hung out around skyhold for a bit at like 19ish and almost joined the chargers theres the option for solas to have recognize this is some falon'din magic shit n quietly be like what the hell. yuvan would hate this old man asking him questions though. whats it to you weirdo i dont know you)

ANYWAYS on the yuvan end of things. not sure how the amulet got into his ancestors hands but its at this point a family heirloom given to the chosen son when they come of age (given they are skilled at magic). and though Anyone can be a caster, yuvans family is originally from tevinter which seems to still carry a lot of good old fashioned patriarchal ideas so i think it makes sense that even women in the family skilled in magic would get skipped over (its a Tradition thing its nothing against them) + if the inheritor has no sons then presumably he'd give it to one of his nephews or something

i think their ancestors had activated it with a bit of blood magic to access the full abilities, which then compiled the ability further when the previous user dies, keeping a piece of each user within it idfk. regardless that had long since fallen out of practice (its been like. hundreds of years probably?) and honestly even proximity to the artifact ie whoever had inherited it has some type of further skill in like entropy type magics than even well-studied mages in that field. (perhaps why they moved to nevarra?)

anyways. yuvan has a bunch of brothers, even more than he realizes on account of his father having an affair, and i think his father is considering whether he wants to give the heirloom to one of his sons with the other woman and hides it somewhere. he fights with yuvans mom about this a lot. at some point, being a little shit 12 yr old that he is at this point, yuvan finds and steals the amulet out of frustration with his dad being The Worst all the time. but when hes stashing it away, he cuts his hand on it which basically Activates it and bestows upon him the Whole of the original shadow+entropy abilities. which he now has to both learn to control and hide on top of all the other risks of being a barely trained young mage (i like to imagine he gets cut on one of the varterral limbs, which then clutch around the owl cameo part of the amulet once its activated)

so then you get into the family drama angle. his dad realizes the amulet is missing, it starts a whole fight that results in the outing of his secret second family, and the stress causes yuvan to lash out with the new magic he was struggling to hide, which are obviously stronger than his dads or brothers because he did accidental blood magic to unlock something much older than they did by just being around it. (the outing of yuvans powers around the family secret is always adjacent to him being outed as a trans man, because the horrors are gender affirming. but in this case the horrors had nothing to do with it, he stumbled into the magic likely how he stumbled into the realization of who he was, and was inevitably punished for both)

anyways obviously his family splinters because as upset as everyone is about the whole amulet thing, short of killing yuvan they cant Detach him from it, and more importantly was the reveal of his dads fuckery. yuvan is stuck w his dad, moving in with the Other Family. his dads not. accepting by any means and openly blames him for what happened to the family. he literally only keeps him around because again, cant detach him from the heirloom and he refuses to let the amulet back out of his sight after all this. but after all this he basically outright refuses to train him, not-so-secretly hoping that yuvan will fall victim to a demon and become an abomination and has to be killed, allowing his father to then give the amulet to one of his "real" sons. yuvan instead trains in secret, where he meets mav (who can help a bit due to mourn watch training but only so much cuz this is still a relatively unknown form of magic). ofc his dad gets worse over time, potentially outright threatens his life?? so yuvan bails altogether out of nevarra entirely to make sure hes as far from his family as possible

[deathtaxesdragons]

Phealafarian Frontiers: Session 1: Assemble

Tent Town - Morning

Tent Town woke up with all the grace and elegance of a hungover troll. The sun spilled over the horizon, illuminating a sprawling encampment that stretched out like a particularly chaotic patchwork quilt in desperate need of darning. Just beyond lay the city walls—towering, ominous, and very much the sort of walls that would look down on you disapprovingly if you dared try anything untoward.

This temporary settlement, nestled right against the looming presence of those walls, was a masterpiece of organized chaos. Paths that could only generously be called streets meandered aimlessly through a sea of tents and shacks, each erected with varying degrees of optimism and expertise. Canvas flaps fluttered in the morning breeze, revealing glimpses of life within a woman deftly knitting a bright green scarf, a child chasing a particularly unimpressed chicken, and a man trying valiantly to shave using a tarnished pot as a mirror.

The air was thick with the mingled aromas of hope, desperation, and last night’s stew, which had been left simmering long enough to develop a unique fragrance that was both alluring and slightly terrifying. Merchants, always the optimists in this grand experiment of humanity, were already setting up their stalls along the main thoroughfare, eager to sell everything from exotic spices to rusty swords that had a history, but not the kind they wanted to talk about.

Across from the markets, a makeshift stage had been cobbled together, looking as if it had been constructed by a committee who couldn’t agree on the definition of ‘stable.’ On it stood a city guard, a man whose armour was shinier than his disposition, and who wore the expression of someone who would much rather be elsewhere but was resigned to his fate.

The guard, whose name might have been Frank or Steve, though it really didn’t matter to him or anyone else, cleared his throat again—a sound remarkably akin to a cat dislodging a particularly stubborn hairball. The crowd, having learned the hard way that there was no point in delaying the inevitable, quieted down.

"First up, Felix Ward!" he called out, peering over his list with an air of forced enthusiasm. A ripple of polite applause echoed through the crowd, accompanied by the occasional whoop from Felix’s mates, who had bet good coin on his number coming up today.

"Liora Moonshadow!" he continued, and a tall elf with an air of mystery nodded solemnly before vanishing back into the throng. It was the sort of nod that suggested she might have already known she’d be chosen, possibly due to an elaborate system involving star charts and chicken bones.

The guard moved down the list with mechanical precision. "Kalad Ironshod, you’re up for something exciting, no doubt." The dwarf in question puffed up with pride, though whether it was because of the announcement or because his armour was too tight was anyone's guess.

"Mira Stonewell, Tariq Windrider, Arin Shadowstep—meet by the merchant's tent for your assignment," he read, each name punctuated by murmurs of approval from their respective factions in the crowd. Mira and Tariq exchanged high-fives, while Arin did his best to look nonchalant, which is quite the feat when you're balancing on one leg trying to appear cool.

"Rina Silverleaf, Grom Ironbeard, and Jax Nightingale—report to the militia. Try not to break anything you can’t pay for." This was met with a mix of laughter and groans, particularly from the militia, who were already taking bets on what might go wrong.

The list went on, each name accompanied by the kind of applause one gives at a school play—polite, slightly confused, and tinged with relief that your turn is not yet up.

Finally, the guard paused dramatically, or perhaps just forgot where he was on the list. After a moment of shuffling papers and mild cursing under his breath, he found his place again.

"And last but not least, Tobias Folner, Erisa Brightglade, Eldrin Valtorin, Tösk Ettinkue, and Guardian of Orthod," he announced, the names rolling off his tongue like a litany of heroes, or at least, like a group that hadn’t yet been banned from any local establishments. "You lot are to head to the South Garrison."

With a flick of his wrist, the guard rolled up the scroll with the efficiency of someone who had mastered the art of looking busy. "That's it for today, folks," he declared, tucking the parchment under his arm with an air of finality. "Remember, the city walls aren’t going anywhere, but neither are you if you don’t complete your tasks."

And with that, the crowd began to disperse, like a school of fish scattering at the first sign of a net. The lottery winners moved toward their destinations, buoyed by a mix of excitement and trepidation, ready to face whatever awaited them beyond the bustle of Tent Town.

In the background, the city walls loomed like silent sentinels, watching over the encampment with an air of indifferent patience. The sun continued its climb, casting long shadows that danced across the tents and pathways, as Tent Town settled back into its peculiar rhythm of waiting and hoping.

Arrival at the South Garrison

The group arrived at the South Garrison with all the coordination of a well-rehearsed, if slightly quirky, parade. First came Eldrin, a well-to-do elf with copper skin and matching hair that caught the light in a way that suggested he spent as much time grooming as he did adventure. He moved with the grace of someone who was used to being admired, even if most of the admiration came from his own reflection.

Tobias followed, a human who had clearly seen better days—though whether those days were before or after the multitude of scars that covered him was anyone’s guess. He wore a shabby cloak over his armour, as if daring anyone to comment on the contrast, and topped it off with a strip of red fabric serving as an eye patch, which somehow made him look both more mysterious and more dangerous.

Next was Erisa, a short human girl with candy-floss pink hair that was shaved on one side in a stylish undercut. Her rose-tinted shades hid her eyes, though the way she hovered just behind Tobias suggested she saw the world through lenses of both colour and caution. Timid though she seemed, her appearance was striking enough to draw a few curious glances.

The Guardian came next, a svelte tiefling with fawn-coloured skin and yellow eyes that gleamed with an unsettling intensity. His horns, which curved upward before meeting in the middle, gave him an air of someone who could navigate any conversation like a chess game—always several moves ahead. He was accompanied by a well-groomed horse, which clattered alongside him like a silent but noble shadow.

Finally, Tösk made his entrance, ensuring he was the last to arrive as if it were a strategic move in a game only he was playing. The imposing luxodon’s brown, matted fur carried the distinct scent of wet dog—a fragrance that clung to him like an old friend who had overstayed their welcome. His mop of brown hair, perched atop his massive head, added to the overall impression of a creature more at home in a muddy field than a garrison.

Tösk’s eyes immediately locked onto Eldrin, whose appearance screamed ‘money’ in a way that made the luxodon’s trunk twitch with anticipation. Without so much as a preamble, Tösk moved in for what might generously be described as a hug. Eldrin, sensing trouble, tried to sidestep, but Tösk’s large arms and trunk made evasion impossible, and soon the elf was caught in a warm, slightly smelly embrace.

The rest of the party watched as Tösk’s trunk began to rummage through Eldrin’s pockets with all the subtlety of a pickpocket in a buffet line. Before things could go any further, Tobias, who had seen his fair share of dubious behaviour, stepped forward and grabbed the trunk with a firm hand. “We need to work together here, Tösk,” he said, his voice carrying the authority of someone who was used to getting his way. Tösk, realizing the game was up, released Eldrin and offered a sheepish grin, as if to say, ‘No hard feelings?’

With that little misunderstanding resolved, the group, horse, and all, made their way into the garrison, ready to face whatever bureaucratic ordeal awaited them inside.

Inside the South Garrison

The group stepped into the garrison, the bustle of military life around them like a well-oiled machine—if that machine occasionally creaked and threatened to fall apart under the weight of paperwork. At the centre of it all stood Sergeant Kira Stonefield, a stout and formidable dwarf with fiery red hair tied back in a braid that looked capable of standing up to a hurricane. Her eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, took in the group with the practiced ease of someone who missed nothing.

Kira looked up from her desk, where a sea of paperwork threatened to spill over and make a break for freedom. “You’re here from the lottery, I assume?” she said, her voice as solid as the garrison walls.

As the group nodded, a curious expression crossed her face. “Right, before we get started, let’s hear your names.”

The group introduced themselves—Eldrin, Tobias, Erisa, the Guardian (and his horse), and Tösk—each receiving a nod from Kira that suggested she was mentally filing their names away for later.

Once introductions were out of the way, Kira reached for a sealed envelope on her desk, breaking the seal with a small knife. Her eyes scanned the contents, her eyebrows knitting together in mild surprise as she read. “A missing person’s task through the lottery? That is a first,” she muttered, more to herself than to the group. “Name’s Vanryn ‘Sweets’ Xyrquinal. Last seen heading south toward Mugen Bay.”

At the mention of Sweets, the group exchanged quick glances. Tobias, ever the pragmatist, cleared his throat. “Uh, are we sure he’s not still in the city? Might be worth checking there first.”

Kira’s eyes narrowed slightly as she looked up. “He was apparently seen leaving the city,” she replied, her tone leaving little room for argument.

Eldrin, not one to give up easily, added, “But wouldn’t it make sense to check? We might save a trip.”

Kira’s mouth twitched into something that might have been a smile if it weren’t so practiced. “You’re not allowed in the city, yet” she said pointedly, the ‘yet’ carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken rules.

Not to be outdone, Tösk chimed in with a casual wave of his trunk. “But he could be...”

Kira sighed; her patience clearly being tested. “If he was in the city, we wouldn’t be asking randos from Tent Town to look for him. The city guards would be on it.”

Realizing there was no swaying her, the group fell silent. Kira, satisfied that she had quashed any further attempts to derail the mission, reached into a drawer and pulled out a set of small vials, each filled with a faintly glowing liquid. “Here,” she said, handing one to each of them, “lesser potions of healing. Just in case.”

As the group accepted the potions, Kira’s attention turned to the Guardian’s horse, which had somehow managed to position itself in a corner without breaking anything. With a look that suggested this was not the first time she had dealt with unusual logistics, Kira walked over and, in one fluid motion, stood beneath the horse. Before anyone could ask what she was doing, she gorilla-pressed the horse above her head and rotated it with the ease of someone shifting a particularly large piece of furniture.

“There we go,” she said, setting the horse down in the direction of the exit. “Now, off with you lot. The city walls aren’t going anywhere, but neither are you if you don’t complete your tasks.”

With that, the group, slightly bemused but impressed, made their way out of the garrison, ready to face whatever awaited them on the road to Mugen Bay.

The Man from The Sky

The road to Mugen Bay had been peaceful enough, with the sun shining warmly, birds chirping in the trees, and the occasional rustle of leaves suggesting small creatures going about their business. It was, all in all, the kind of day that made adventurers almost forget that danger lurked just around the corner—or, in this case, above them.

Suddenly, without warning, a bright flash of light burst across the sky, crackling like summer lightning against the clear blue. Eldrin and Tobias were the first to react, sprinting toward the spot where a figure was plummeting earthward with all the grace of a stone dropped from a great height. The Guardian, meanwhile, was decidedly less enthusiastic about the idea of things falling from the sky, his yellow eyes wide with unease as he backed away, the unsettling memories of past experiences flickering across his mind. Tösk, in typical Tösk fashion, remained nonplussed, as if people fell out of the sky every other day. Erisa barely looked up from her journal, more concerned with recording the day’s events than with the oddity of a human comet.

Eventually, though, the entire group found themselves at the spot where the figure had landed—a man lying in the grass, his rustic outfit suggesting a style that was both old-fashioned and out of place, like a cowboy, if cowboys had ever been a thing in this world.

Tobias knelt beside the man; his concern evident as he reached out to check if the stranger was still alive. Before he could get a word out, the man’s eyes shot open, and he sprang to his feet with the kind of energy usually reserved for people who had just remembered they left the stove on. “Skeletal dragon!” he shouted; his voice filled with the sort of panic that suggested he’d recently had a close encounter of the bony kind.

The group watched as the man’s frantic gaze darted around, taking in the blue, cloudless sky. After a moment, he regained some sense of reality, though his confusion was still palpable. “Where am I?” he asked, his voice less panicked now, more bewildered.

“Phaelafera,” Eldrin answered, as if that explained everything.

The man, however, clearly had never heard the word before. “Phaelafera? Never heard of it,” he muttered, his brow furrowing. “Does anyone know where Isenvale is?”

Tösk, ever the practical one, scratched his head with his trunk. “Walked along the border on my way to the docks on the other side of the Astror continent. Just saw high walls of purple miasma. That was about a month ago.”

Thomas—if that was indeed his name—looked shaken, his mind whirling with this new information. “A month... A month ago... They could have survived. I can go back,” he mumbled to himself, a glimmer of hope sparking in his eyes.

As he started to ask how one might go about returning to Isenvale, a voice floated through the trees, interrupting the moment. It was relaxed, yet urgent, with a drawl that suggested a lifetime spent on sunlit shores.

“Yo, dudes! Anyone out there? I’m kinda in a gnarly situation here!”

The group exchanged glances, the strangeness of the day taking yet another turn as they realized someone else might need their help—or at the very least, some company.

The Clearing in the Woods

Following the strange voice through the dense undergrowth, the group pushed forward until the trees opened into a small clearing, where the scene was anything but peaceful. Perched precariously on a branch was Vanryn "Sweets" Xyrquinal, his colourful shirt flapping in the breeze like a flag of nonchalance. Below him, three very large rats prowled the forest floor, their eyes gleaming with a mix of intelligence and hunger as they scratched at the base of the tree, determined to turn their treed quarry into a meal.

Tobias, ever the protector, dashed forward without a second thought, positioning himself between the rats and Sweets, his body becoming an impromptu human shield. Eldrin was next to react, drawing his bow with a practiced grace. He loosed an arrow that flew true, striking one of the rats and sending it to the ground with a final squeak.

Meanwhile, Guardian, his yellow eyes wide with desperation, attempted to harness his warlock powers. He raised his hand to the sky, pleading with whatever entity might be listening. “Please, grant me power!” he called out, his voice tinged with both hope and fear. The response was less than encouraging—a single, pitiful mote of light flickered from his fingertips before fizzling out, leaving Guardian to stare at his hand in dismay.

As the remaining rats turned their attention to Tobias, one lunged forward and sank its teeth into his leg with a sickening crunch. Tobias gritted his teeth in pain, but the damage was severe, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Tösk, who had been watching the scene with the kind of confidence that suggested he didn’t see three oversized rodents as much of a threat, finally decided to intervene. Striding forward with his great axe in hand, Tösk swung it in a wide arc, slashing through the remaining two rats with a single, powerful stroke. Both creatures fell, their threat extinguished as quickly as it had appeared.

With the danger passed, Erisa hurried over to Tobias, her hands shaking slightly as she uncorked the healing potion Kira had given them earlier. She administered it with care, watching anxiously as Tobias’s wounds began to close. Yet, as the potion worked its magic, Thomas noticed that the wound on Tobias’s leg didn’t heal completely. Instead, it left behind another patch of scar tissue, adding to the already extensive network that marked his body.

Sweets, having witnessed the entire ordeal from his perch, finally climbed down from the tree with the ease of someone who had spent more time lounging in high places than facing mortal peril. “Thanks a ton, dudes!” he said with a bright grin. “You really saved my hide there. I’m Sweets, by the way. Vanryn ‘Sweets’ Xyrquinal, at your service.”

As the group gathered their wits, Eldrin, his curiosity piqued, asked the only question on their minds. “Why do they call you ‘Sweets’?”

Sweets chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Have you seen my real name? It’s a mouthful,” he replied with a wink.

With the rats defeated and Sweets safely back on solid ground, the group prepared to head back, their task completed, but with more questions than answers about the strange man who had literally dropped into their lives.

Mugen Bay

With Sweets now safely in their company, the group made their way to Mugen Bay, the coastal town living up to its reputation as a bustling hub of activity. The salty tang of the sea mingled with the various smells of the market—fresh fish, exotic spices, and the ever-present scent of something frying in a large vat of oil.

Sweets led the way through the winding streets with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where the best deals were to be found. As he darted from stall to stall, haggling with merchants and inspecting goods with a critical eye, the group found themselves playing the roles of pack mules, each laden with supplies ranging from barrels of ale to sacks of rare herbs.

Erisa, usually quiet and reserved, found herself drawn to the shoreline. The others were busy helping Sweets or keeping a wary eye on their surroundings, but Erisa wandered over to the edge of the dock, where the sea stretched out before her like an endless expanse of blue. She stood there for a moment, her candy-floss pink hair catching the breeze, her rose-tinted shades reflecting the shimmering waves. The sound of the water lapping against the shore was soothing, and for a moment, the chaos of Tent Town and the dangers of the road seemed far away.

After a while, Erisa rejoined the group, who had finished collecting everything on Sweets' extensive shopping list. With their arms full of supplies and their thoughts already turning back to Tent Town, they began the journey back.

Return to Tent Town

The road back to Tent Town was peaceful, the group settling into a steady pace as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the path. The events of the day weighed on each of them in different ways—Tobias, still limping slightly from his encounter with the rat; Eldrin, lost in thought; Guardian, silently wrestling with his inner turmoil; and Erisa, now walking with the group after her brief moment of peace by the sea.

As they walked, Thomas found himself drifting closer to Sweets, curiosity gnawing at him. The rest of the group had been noticeably cagey when he’d asked about Isenvale earlier, their discomfort palpable. But Sweets seemed more easy-going, less likely to skirt around a question. Finally, Thomas couldn’t hold back any longer.

“How would one get to Isenvale?” Thomas asked, trying to keep his voice casual, though there was an edge of urgency to it.

Sweets, who had been cheerfully humming to himself, paused mid-tune, and turned to look at Thomas, his expression shifting from jovial to slightly confused. “Isenvale?” he repeated, as if trying to place the name. Then, suddenly, understanding dawned on him, followed quickly by a look of mild surprise. “Why, that country was completely destroyed 50 years ago.”

The words hit Thomas like a physical blow. His steps faltered, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. The rest of the group noticed the change in his demeanour, the way his face drained of colour, his eyes wide with shock.

“Destroyed?” Thomas echoed, his voice barely more than a whisper. He felt like he was trying to grasp something that was slipping away, like sand through his fingers. “But… that can’t be right. It was… it was just a month ago…”

Sweets shrugged; his tone casual, almost apologetic. “That’s what I’ve heard, anyway. Place was wiped out in some cataclysmic event. Nothing left but ruins and memories. Why? Were you planning on visiting?”

Thomas didn’t respond, his mind reeling from the revelation. The other members of the group exchanged uneasy glances, each understanding that something significant had just been revealed, though none were sure how to approach it.

As they continued, Thomas walked in stunned silence, the weight of Sweets’ words pressing down on him like a leaden cloak. What had happened? How could a place be destroyed 50 years ago when he had just been there? The questions churned in his mind, but there were no answers, only a growing sense of dread.

By the time they reached the outskirts of Tent Town, the familiar sights and sounds did little to comfort him. The city walls loomed ahead, indifferent sentinels to the turmoil brewing within his thoughts.

Return to the South Garrison

The group entered the South Garrison, the familiar clang of metal on metal and the murmur of soldiers going about their duties filling the air. However, something was different this time. Behind the desk where Sergeant Kira Stonefield had previously presided was a new guard—a tall, surly man with the air of someone who had already had more than enough of everyone’s nonsense for the day.

As they approached, sweets gave a cheerful wave. “Hey there! We’re back with the supplies,” he said, his tone as easy-going as ever.

The guard barely looked up from his papers, his expression a mix of boredom and irritation. “Vanryn Xyrquinal, right?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before checking off Sweets’ name on his list.

He then began to go through the names of the group, calling them out one by one. “Eldrin, Tobias, Erisa, Guardian of Orthod…”

Before he could finish, Tösk interrupted, raising a large hand. “Uh, we have one more—”

The guard’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Shush!” he barked, his tone brooking no argument. Tösk, taken aback, fell silent as the guard continued down the list.

“And Thomas Wilderman,” the guard finished, as if the name were as ordinary as the rest.

The group froze. Thomas’ eyes widened in shock, and the others exchanged puzzled looks. Tobias was the first to speak up, his voice full of confusion. “His name wasn’t on the list earlier…”

The guard’s patience, already thin, snapped. He glared at Tobias, his voice dripping with disdain. “And now you’re trying to keep someone from getting paid for a job well done? Unbelievable.” He thrust the list at Tobias, the paper crinkling under his grip. “See for yourself. Thomas Wilderman, right there, in the same ink and handwriting as the rest. Clear as day.”

Tobias took the list and examined it closely. Sure enough, there was Thomas’ name, written in the same neat script as all the others. It made no sense, but there it was, as if it had always been there. The group looked at each other, still baffled, while the guard’s irritation grew with every second.

Finally, Erisa, her voice timid but steady, asked, “Is Sergeant Stonefield around? We’d like to speak with her.”

The guard, who was now visibly annoyed, sighed heavily. “She’s off duty,” he snapped. “Probably enjoying a drink somewhere far from here, where she doesn’t have to deal with a bunch of clueless adventurers.”

As the group began to describe Sergeant Stonefield, something sparked in Thomas. His eyes, which had been filled with confusion and shock, suddenly lit up with recognition. He stepped forward, his voice frantic. “Mary Cherry! It’s her, it must be, Mary Cherry!” he exclaimed, his tone desperate as if grasping at some elusive truth.

Before the guard could react to Thomas' outburst, Tösk—unfazed by the guard’s growing frustration—asked with genuine curiosity, “So, can we go into the city now?”

The guard’s eyes widened in disbelief, his face turning an angry shade of red. “After one job? No way!” he snapped, his voice rising. “The council will take this job, and my report— which won’t be glowing, I can tell you—and they’ll let you know if you’ve been accepted. Now, GET OUT!”

Seeing that the situation was escalating rapidly, Tösk quickly moved to Thomas, who was still trying to get more answers. With surprising gentleness for someone of his size, Tösk scooped Thomas up and carried him out of the garrison, the rest of the group following in silence.

Thomas, still frantic, continued to mumble “Mary Cherry” under his breath, struggling slightly in Tösk’s grasp. But the luxodon’s steady, reassuring presence seemed to calm him—at least enough to keep him from making more of a scene.

As they exited the garrison, the group was left with more questions than answers. Thomas’ name on the list, the mysterious mention of “Mary Cherry,” and the fact that entry to the city was still out of reach—it was all too strange. But for now, all they could do was regroup and figure out what to do next.

Tent Town - Evening

As the group walked through Tent Town, the warm glow of lanterns began to light the way, and the sounds of evening life filled the air—laughter, the sizzle of cooking fires, and the occasional tune from a wandering minstrel. It was the kind of night that promised both rest and some much-needed relaxation, and after the day they’d had, the group was ready for a bit of both.

As they made their way through the winding paths, a drunk adventurer approached them, clearly in high spirits, despite having indulged a bit too much. He staggered over to the Guardian, his eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and alcohol.

“Hey there, mate!” the drunk adventurer slurred, throwing an arm around Guardian’s shoulder with the kind of familiarity only a few drinks could bestow. “We just got accepted into the city, right? And we’re moving up in the world! So, we’ve got this tent, see? And it’s a good one—big enough for a horse and cart! It’s yours if you want it!”

Guardian, who had been silent for most of the day, blinked in surprise. “That’s… very generous of you,” he replied, trying to extricate himself from the adventurer’s enthusiastic grip.

“No, no, no need to thank me,” the adventurer insisted, waving his hand dismissively. “Just take it! It’s a gift from one group of adventurers to another!” With that, he stumbled off, to celebrate his good fortune with more drinks.

The group exchanged glances, amused by the unexpected turn of events. A new, larger tent would be a welcome change from their current, more cramped accommodations.

They decided to separate and gather their belongings from their old tents before moving into their new shared space. As they did, they struck up some light conversation, everyone slowly unwinding after the day’s events.

Tobias, still feeling the sting of his earlier encounter with the rat, approached Erisa with a grateful nod. “Thanks for healing me back there,” he said, his tone sincere. He reached into his pack and pulled out the healing potion he had received from Kira earlier. “Here, take mine. You might need it more than I will.”

Erisa, surprised but touched by the gesture, accepted the potion with a shy smile. “Thank you, Tobias. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Meanwhile, Tösk, never one to miss an opportunity, decided to try his infamous hug-pickpocket tactic on Thomas. As he moved in for the embrace, Thomas, oblivious, allowed Tösk’s trunk to do its thing. But as Tösk attempted to subtly relieve Thomas of his pouch, he was met with a surprise—Thomas was already holding Tösk’s own money pouch.

With a knowing smile that suggested he’d seen these tricks before, Thomas waved the pouch back at Tösk in a playful, almost fatherly way. “Nice try, big guy,” he said with a wink, his tone conveying the message loud and clear: _Son, I know all these tricks. _

Tösk’s eyes widened in surprise before he broke into a hearty laugh, realizing he’d been bested at his own game. Before he could react further, Erisa snuck by with a mischievous grin. She deftly slipped Tösk’s coin pouch into a different pocket of his own, just to mess with him. Tösk, still baffled, patted himself down until he found the pouch in its new location. He glanced around, realizing he had been outfoxed, but couldn’t help but chuckle at the turn of events.

Eldrin and Tösk, deciding that a celebration was in order, headed over to a makeshift tavern where they had been helping earlier. With a bit of charm and a few exchanged favours, they managed to procure a small keg, which they carried back to the new tent with the kind of pride usually reserved for victorious warriors returning from battle.

As the night wore on, the group settled into their new tent, which proved to be as spacious and comfortable as promised. They passed the keg around, drinking and sharing stories late into the night. Laughter filled the tent, and for a few hours, the worries and mysteries of the day were forgotten in the warmth of good company and good ale.

By the time the lanterns outside began to dim and the sounds of Tent Town quieted, the group was well and truly relaxed, each of them grateful for the unexpected gift of both the tent and the sense of ease that had come with it.