#(evil bard who is in the stage of finding out)

[exo-comet-art]

WOW A WHOLE BUNCH OF MISC DOODLES!

The first four are the sprites(?) for a bunch of paper minis, however I quickly found out there's a reason why I only do digital art so uhhhh OOPS.

The last four are some headshots of some protagonists for a fantasy world who I need to finish reference sheets for akslfdfhdjsgh.

[inventors-fair]

Living Legends: Myth ReRealized Winners

~

Our winners this week are @bergdg, @izzet-always-r-versus-u, and @nine-effing-hells!

@bergdg — Songs for the Morning Star

Sagas are one of the clearer choices this week, right after legendary creatures. Heck, the card type was literally made to tell ancient legends! While I'm not particularly familiar with the story being represented here, the picture you've painted between the art description and the effect has me immediately interested. And speaking of the effect, it's a doozy. The final chapter is incredibly strong, but being locked behind a lengthy delay and the size of your board means it creates a good amount of friction. Your opponent has the chance in the interim to cull your creatures, either through wiping the slate clean or removing just enough to protect a crucial card. But on the flipside, the bird being created each turn means it's an uphill battle at all stages. I do think the card could use a slight tweak in mana cost and/or rarity, because gaining 6 life and creating 3 birds on its own already feels a bit like it's punching above its weight class. This one's firmly "I can't substantiate this without actually playing with it," so take it under advisement.

@izzet-always-r-versus-u — Exact Judgement

First of all: phenomenal pun. Genuinely the kind of wordplay that makes me equal parts guffaw and kick myself for not thinking of it myself sooner. Part of me wishes all the numbers you could choose were squares to really go all the way, but 9 is pretty impractical for the effect. Oh well. Anyways, we've seen plenty of board wipes like this over the years, where you're allowed to dictate the parameters of the wipe to hopefully make it miss your most important permanents. This one immediately has an interest point over other power-based conditions like Austere Command and Dawn//Dusk simply because creatures with power 1 are always being hit, nonnegotiable. Thanks to that, it's kind of a no-go in token and/or weenie decks, which is often where these effects find a home. I do wonder if this is a bit too overcosted, though, for what it is. Wrath of God is currently in Foundations, and while I touted its ability to be sculpted to miss your board, it also seems very easy to be forced to miss something you'd really rather destroy. Especially with 2, 3, and 4, which are all extremely common powers. Four mana with the extra color should be fine, right?

@nine-effing-hells — Tantalizing Torment

Ooh, this is positively vile. It's generally a bit of a faux pas to have cards contradict themselves. It's not fun to have a card lie to you about what it does, after all, and it generally makes it a bit too much of a pain to understand in an expedient manner. That said, you can justify just about anything (within the rules, that is) if it plays into what the card does well enough, which brings us neatly to this little number. The complete lockdown on draw and lifegain is brutal, but what really makes this stand out is the sheer cruelty of the last effect. Dangling what they could have and by all rights should have directly in their face while everyone else benefits without issue kind of rules, ultimately. A big selling point for justifying the contradictory effect is that it's also not too clever for its own good: a player who reads through and gets the joke—so to speak—would probably chuckle instead of groan, as so often happens. Now I'm just imagining a situation where you've enchanted every opponent in a four player game and you're just sitting there drawing so many cards that they simply cannot have. Deliciously evil.

~

It won't be long now...the runners approach. —@spooky-bard

[havealotonmymind]

The Ballad of the Blade

Summary: There was power to words. Of that, Laurel always believed.

Upon meeting the Blade of Frontiers, she finally finds a story of valour worth crafting. A 5 + 1 fic where Laurel tries to write five verses to Wyll’s heroic tale and Wyll outshines her with his own.

For Day 1 of @madetobezine's OC x Canon Seasons Ship Week!

Rating: Teen and Up

Category: Tav/Wyll (Baldur's Gate), Wyll (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Poetry, Love at First Sight, Eye Trauma, Due to Volo lol, Only a mention though, Romance, Act 1 (Baldur's Gate 3), Named Tav (Baldur's Gate), Elf Tav (Baldur's Gate), Bard Tav (Baldur's Gate), 5 Times, 5 + 1 Fic

Also on AO3!

Storytelling had always been in Laurel’s blood. Her father often regaled her with his own accounts of how he had bested bandits, foul foes, and once, an evil dragon. He would conjure faint images to accompany these childhood bedtime tales. The memories of heroes who had long since passed on swirled about her head and around her room, much to her delight. It was hard not to dream of crafting her very own tale one day, trusty flute in hand. 

There was power to words. Of that, she always believed. When she came of age, she traveled to the bardic college of New Olamn in Waterdeep. This grand palace of complete bardic knowledge had an oral teaching tradition, though its vast library was certainly nothing to scoff at, either. It held more stories than her father could weave together in a lifetime, and Laurel absorbed them all.

Though many of her peers took up the College of Lore, Laurel had always been drawn to stories of bold heroes and even bolder adventures. The College of Valour was her one true calling, and she would not be denied it.

By the age of twenty, she could recite her people’s poetry back to front and recall all the best epics ever written. A good bard must have a wealth of knowledge to draw from, after all. How was she to ensure she wouldn’t accidentally recreate another bard’s verses without committing all their tales to heart first?

Of course, there were only so many tales she could hear over and over again before she grew bored. Faerûn was a wild and magical place full of stories yet to be told. If she was to make her mark, Laurel knew she must venture out into it.

Her luck was not so gracious. Her trip back to the Gate was thwarted by the sudden appearance of the nautiloid. The hero’s journey over before it even began.

Escaping with several new companions in tow was no easy feat, but one she accomplished with as much grace as one could muster on an organic ship made of guts. With the tadpole threatening to upend her whole world, she and all her new friends had very little time to waste. Laurel would have to set aside her poetry and songwriting for after they were cured.

Enter the Blade of Frontiers, stage right. It took only one princely introduction, a single dashing smile, for her to fall.

Truly, the Blade of Frontiers was a tale she hoped to capture, body and soul. He cut a fine figure and appreciated a good bit of wordplay besides. Surely it wouldn’t hurt for her first bard tale to center on a prolific hero who lived up to his reputation.

The first verse she spun was a poor one:

From death he spun,

By nature true

The boldest Blade

Rapier he drew

Goblins thwarted and mad worgs slain

Through his courage, the Coast heals ‘gain.

Sloppy work. Her teachers would tut at her for such clumsy rhymes. Fresh as a seedling just beginning to sprout, this feeling was something that needed to be tended to with care. Wyll was an easygoing sort who didn’t pay much heed to her flirtations, but she didn’t mind. She wouldn’t force it upon him if he didn’t feel the same.

Besides, with a goblin invasion imminent, it wasn’t exactly the best time to gallivant. Alas, there always seemed to be something.

Fighting side-by-side with him did wonders for her inspiration. Her second verse could do with some work as well:

Twixt grove and camp the Blade patrolled

With vim and vigor, unmasked True Souls

To destroy a cult: the Absolute

Ye harried exiles, take heart, take root,

For when the Blade a-comes to call,

‘Tis fortune abound; thy heart enthralled!

Perhaps she had laid it on a bit thick. His heroics were certainly nothing to scoff at. Demanding that others revere him as she did, however, was a tad on the nose. Still, Laurel didn’t see fit to hide her affections for him. What else could stir the heart more than a touch of hinted romance?

Should her tale ever make it out of her dusty notebook, let the stuffy scholars bicker over her authorial intent. The true romantics would know in their hearts.

The third verse was perhaps the most scathing of his circumstances:

The Blade of Frontiers, a hero most grand

Inspires those ‘round him to take a stand

A-gainst foul villains and gnolls alike

His charm, grace, heroics, all will strike

So selfless is he, the sweet, knightly prince

One look should be enough to convince

A grave price he pays yet wears it well

When patron appears, he damns her to Hell.

Her was viciously underlined. Laurel never wrote at her best when she was upset. The last couplet was particularly awful. She would have to rework the entire thing when she had the time. For now, away in her notebook it went.

The Blade of Frontiers, renowned hero of the Sword Coast, now a devil? The small-minded might sneer at this new reputation. Laurel was not so. If anything, she was more enthusiastic than ever to get his tale down just right.

Her fourth verse was a much shorter one, due to Volo plucking out one of her eyes. She wasn’t sure what hurt more: the phantom ache where her eye used to be, or her companions’ utter disregard for her feelings. She had trusted Volo despite her fear. Look where that got her. If not for the tadpole in her brain, Laurel would have curled up in a corner of the forest to let the moss overtake her. 

Wyll was the only one in camp that didn’t call her an idiot. Instead, he made an off-colour joke about the two of them being part of an exclusive, one-eyed club. At first, it succeeded in making her laugh, and she was glad for it despite the lingering pain. Then out of nowhere, tears began to spill down her cheeks. She didn’t mean to fluster him with her sudden outpouring, but it couldn’t be helped. Once it started, she hardly had the wherewithal to stop herself.

His strong arms around her were a comfort. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed a hug after everything. It only made her sob harder. He patted her back, muttering much-needed reassurances. So unfailingly kind, her Wyll.

Hers? No. She couldn’t think that. He would have done this for anyone.

Laurel stepped away, excusing herself as she darted back to her tent.

That night, she quickly scribbled out the shortest verse of his tale:

Devil not, the Blade demure

True to his word, his kindness endures.

The night of the tiefling party, she danced and drank and laughed with all the rest. It was refreshing to match her flute to Alfira’s ballads, to marvel at Rolan’s magic show. Her companions and all their guests were a riot of fun. The wine and food were delicious. Spirits ran high.

And yet, this party still felt incomplete. Where had Wyll gone off to?

Noble Blade, where art thou heart?

‘Tis everywhere and yet I start

To ponder if I tell thee true

My heart, I beg, do you love me, too?

Perhaps the worst part about being in love was the yearning. It was agonizing more so than it was encouraging. She had to get this feeling off her chest or she was bound to erupt.

Laurel smoothed out her long turquoise hair as best she could in her state. Never mind that Wyll had seen her utterly disheveled and covered in viscera before.

She found him standing alone by the lake, staring off into the horizon. Laurel had never seen him so melancholy before. Every day, he had a smile ready and unfaltering courage to spare.

This was a part of him she hadn’t seen. A part she suspected he didn’t let anyone see.

It occurred to her that Wyll might not need a grand epic of his sweeping good deeds. Perhaps, as all true heroes did, he merely needed a friend to lean on. For someone to understand. That always seemed to be at the core of her father’s tales. Perhaps it was time she learned something from them.

Laurel tapped him on the shoulder, smiling faintly when he turned to meet her eyes.

“Agh, hells. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone.”

“Of course I noticed,” she said, daring to take a small step closer. “It was no party without you.”

He had helped to free the Coast of another evil. Why shouldn’t he join in the revelry?

It was a beautiful spring night. The scent of lavender and freshly overturned soil swirled in the air above the salty muck of the lake beside them.

“Really? I’m honoured. In truth, I don’t feel in a festive mood, and I didn’t want to cast a grey cloud over the night.”

He had resigned himself to his new devil visage wholeheartedly, taking others’ opinions much too close to heart. After saving the grove from an entire army charging down their front doors, why did he still think himself unwanted? It made her blood boil. Was The Blade of Frontiers nothing more to these people than a symbol to be discarded once he served his use?

“You don’t unsettle me, you know that.”

Plain, honest, true. And he thought her a saint for it.

“If only half the world had half the heart that you do. But off with you. This is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.”

Another gentle refusal. His constant self-sacrifice was infuriating. Wyll deserved to be looked after, too. He deserved kindness and love and just as much forgiveness as he gave to others, but couldn’t accept for himself.

“I want to dance with you.”

This made him laugh and she felt vindicated that he was dropping his guard at last. They talked about well into the night about life in the city. He revealed his own love for dancing, even tossing her a compliment or two on her figure and form. If she was a bit more sober, the compliments alone would have sustained her. It was only after engaging in a bit of banter did her courage decide to rear its head up.

Just as he tried to usher her back to the party once more, Laurel said, “If not a dance, then maybe a kiss.”

Bold, entirely without poetry or romance. Just a dainty question practically thrown his way.

Wyll chuckled, though not without malice. “You drive a hard bargain,” he said. “But just the one.”

Oh. Oh, he accepted.

Laurel took an uneasy step towards him, studying how the torchlight flickered along his dark skin. He sucked in a breath like he was preparing to dive into the lake before him.

Her lips brushed against his and Laurel nearly keeled over. Her head spun. Her heart raced. It was lovely and far, far too short. A mere peck. Still, it made her incredibly happy, and really, what more could she ask for from him?

Laurel smiled and it was as though she had unlocked another secret part of him. Wyll’s own smile was far softer than she expected and he looked away. “Ah, that smile—it could light up a room. Hells, it could light up the entire Bay of Balduran.”

All her previous, secret efforts done away with two lines. And they didn’t even rhyme.

She wanted to tell him everything there and then: her feelings, the fact that she’d been outlining verse after verse of their journey together. Buried in the dizziness of her mind laid the beginnings of a tune, slow at first with whispering notes like rainfall, then growing lighter like the sun after the rain. 

Laurel had been so focused on the verses that she forgot to come up with the melody.

Wyll set a strong hand on her shoulder. “There will be another time for us.”

She hoped that was true. She hoped that time would come soon. What a joy it would be to have space to rest at last. To put her own feelings on the forefront and simply…fall in love. Hold hands. Hells, to have enough time for a single dance.

Laurel placed a hand over her lips with a faint smile. “I’m sure there will be. Good night, Wyll.”

Her head was abuzz with more than just alcohol as she wandered back to the dwindling party. Most of the tieflings had wandered back to the grove for one last night. Some still tried to stoke the fires of those remaining, but it was clear from the pockets of quiet that it wasn’t working.

Laurel bid everyone good night as she made her way to her tent, or more importantly, her notebook. One last drunken stanza managed to scribble its way out before she fell prey to dreams of him:

A stolen kiss by lakeside light

Another time to take my flight.

To you, the Blade, I dedicate

My time, my heart, to shatter fate.

[janzoo]

OC Smash or Pass: Drakyr Saovine

Rules: pretty self explanatory. include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc).

Tagged here by @thevikingwoman thank you! This has turned out to be the best character info/lore page I've put together for Drakyr so far so I'm glad for the tag. 💙

Tagging - oh man who hasn't been tagged in this by now lol uhh @rabid-catboy @paintedscales @hopes-legacy @sebille @raynshyu

@ishgard @dytabytes @hydaelyns-bitch @forishgard @morgan-aleghieri and whoever else wants to do this, it's fun!

(7.0 graphics w/photoshopped black sclera. The beach pic is a remake of an old fave.)

(Pre-7.0 graphics)

(The last pic is from here, with some lore and the original (real person!) pose.)

Quick Facts

Height: 5'2"/159cm

Age: I'm still working out her timeline, but she's in her early 30s by the end of Dawntrail.

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pros

An excellent cook/baker! She is a level 100 Culinarian and absolutely shows it. She also loves tea and is adept at crafting blends.

A foodie in general - come enjoy lots of good/new food with her!

Generally very handy and an excellent craftswoman

Confident

Loyal and dependable

Very passionate and compassionate - she's gotta lotta heart 💙

Not afraid to do dirty work (as long as she can have a good bath afterwards)

An amazing musician, vocalist, and instrumental composer.

Drakyr is in excellent physical condition. She was an athlete and hunter before becoming a warrior proper.

Good sense of sportsmanship. (She does preen over her victories, but has enough class to save it until she's among the right crowd. She also does appreciates the competition and doesn't think less of them for losing to her.)

She's generally good at turning negative experiences into lessons as opposed to being dragged down by them. (She's not immune to grief and the like; this is after the initial shock has passed, so to speak.)

Body- and sex-positive.

Cons

Vain - not in that she flaunts her looks over others, but she spends a lot of time and effort on her appearance. What other people do or don't do with their appearance is on them, but she has to look her best.

Claustrophobic

Ruthless in that once she gets started on something, it's difficult to slow, stop, or redirect her.

Will try to fix everyone's problems.

Is prone to heading into danger/potential traps because she figures that, as the Warrior of Freakin' Light/Darkness, she can handle whatever gets thrown at her.

She is stage-shy about singing in particular, and doesn't do it often unless enough of the audience consists of people she trusts. Struggles to come up with lyrics for her compositions.

Her loyalty can blind her to the wrongdoings of those she's loyal to.

Details

Primarily a Bard, and was raised in a travelling show/competition - she can entertain and handle being the centre of attention.

She's competitive (put here because that can be both a pro and con lol)

Her family/tribe was killed in the Calamity, save for her younger sister, Lakelta. (I do have something in the works of her finding some surviving tribe members that were abducted/conscripted by the Garlean Empire, but the idea is still very tentative/WIP.)

A night-person

Drakyr prefers to carry both titles of Warror of Light and Darkness, in acknowledgement of everything that happened in Shadowbringers, and of the fact that there is no one "evil element". (I'd love to make some kind of combined title for her, like "Warrior of Twilight". But I'm wary of getting Twilight series remarks in turn. 😬)

Drakyr is spiritual, and does revere Nhaama and Oschon as her personal deities. (Less so the latter after Myths of the Realm, though she does occasionally send a prayer/well-wishes his way anyway.) She spends enough time in Ishgard to pay respects to Halone too.

A "work hard, play hard" type who enjoys relaxing/decompressing with a good meal, a soak in a hot tub, and some chill sightseeing/stargazing/lazing around - parallel play is a bonus for any of these. ("Play hard" in that she completely shuts out "work" and any thoughts of it unless an absolute emergency comes up.)

Loves water and swimming, though prefers freshwater over saltwater.

Drakyr believes that destruction is easy, but that ease is a sort of cheat that makes it seem more intimidating and powerful. True power lies in the ability to create and construct.

Not afraid to throw around her weight as Warrior of Light/Darkness (again, can be both a pro and con).

Her intelligence is much more applied as opposed to booksmarts. She's had to stop Alphinaud or other scholars/Scions from what feels like talking at her and have them show her what they need/mean. What books she has are field guides and story books. She does some light journaling.

She loves holidays! Her birthday is on All Saints' Wake/Halloween.

Pierced nipples (link contains non-sexual nudity). She has several different kinds and can change what colour they glow as. Wears simple rings by default.

You can find more info in Drakyr's lore tag.

Sexuality: First and foremost, it doesn't matter to her if it's vanilla or kinky, slow or fast, as long as there is passion. Otherwise she's an open-minded switch, though she does have a bit of a preference for topping-from-the-bottom. Haurchefant introduced her to some kinks that she enjoys still, namely shibari, light dom/sub, and using/wearing leather. (She is not a lacy gal.) Drakyr also enjoys intimacy for more than just insert-dick-into-hole; it's still sex to her whether there was penetration or not. She especially loves oral (both ways). When in a top/dom position, she is patient and gives lots of praise.

Emotionally: Again, she is passionate - she puts her whole heart into whatever she does. By that I don't mean high-energy - passionate as in her partners will never feel the need to question her conviction. She is unwavering in her love. She is a wellspring of adoration and affection. She's in it for keeps. Drakyr also tends to make herself a sanctuary for her loved ones. They can find solace in her presence, and safety at her back. She expects the same in return from her partners. Drakyr loves to love and be loved.

Cast your vote!

[remidyal]

Bad Ideas of the Day, part 5, Even Worse Edition

It's time for my monthly-ish roundup of my regular bad ideas of the day from the D20 fanfic discord! Last month's is available here and has links back to all the prior ones because now there's too many for me to be bothered direct linking here!

As usual, these are a mix of fantasy high and other D20 prompts and are open for anyone who wants to do something with them, though I appreciate letting me know because I wanna read it!

Bad idea of the day, class swap (but not like that) edition: Due to a clerical error - namely, their cleric signed them up for it - all of the bad kids have to attend each other's classes for a week, resulting in Fabian sitting through a Worlds Religion lecture, Kristen doing her -3 Dex best to sneak around in rogue classes, Gorgug going to the bard classes that Fig never actually went to, Riz doing his best to remember everything Adaine's ever mentioned about how wizarding works, Fig faking fighting instead of raging for once, and Adaine trying to pass off her furious fist as just being how her anger manifests

Bad idea of the day, abc edition: In the village of Happly, at the harvest festival, Pinnochio enters his infamous bubblegum and whiskey pie and gets himself run out of town by a mob of angry villagers

Bad Idea of the Day, Toxic Masculinity is Undead edition: The adventurers of Solace are well aware of Halloween, because every year on that date the soulless corpses of villains slain in the past year rise again to chase after their killers. Can Fabian keep ahead of both Zombie Penelope Everpetal and Zombie Bill Seacaster?

Bad idea of the day, Figueroth Faeth's Day Off edition: Receiving notification halfway through junior year that one more unexcused absence is going to result in her being expelled, Fig drags her friends into a heist to break into the school, fake her attendance record and show that she's been there the whole time.

Bad Idea of the Day, Drama Edition: It turns out that there's a reason that Aguefort has a theater department. Once every hundred years, a performance must be put on that is quote truly moving unquote lest the school be destroyed, and it turns out that Riz is fated to play the heroine of the most recent attempt. Can the Bad Kids teach him to not botch his lines or hide under the stage?

Bad idea of the day, not all cats are good cats: Puss in Boots must fight off a new contender for children's hearts and minds as the trickster cat du dour. Can he successfully murder this strange cat and his lame rhymes and thing-like minions to keep his throne, or will he be the first to fall to seussian influences?

Bad idea of the day, death stalks you edition: Adaine starts sending out Solstice cards to people who annoy her throughout the year with prophecies of their deaths. Most of them she just makes up, but one or two are genuine every year just to mix things up.

Bad idea of the day, World's Greatest Detective edition: Riz is asked to solve a murder that seems to have all the classic detective tropes he truly loves involved; it's only partway through that he realizes that Fabian, with their friends' help, has staged it because they were all worried about Riz getting bored and spiraling between quests.

Bad idea of the day, I know Halloween was two days ago but I rewatched in the mouth of madness recently edition: The Bad Kids come to realize they are being controlled by mysterious and unknowable forces, and reach a decision: To cut off the flow of evil into the world, they are going to need to find and kill whatever a 'DM' is.

Bad idea of the day, I think we've all learned some valuable lessons here edition: The Dream Team realizes some kind of truly awful existence is sweeping over new york, in which every conversation and conflict ends with everyone having picked up a seemingly valuable but really quite shallow moral to the tale; they eventually figure out that it is in fact an attempt by a powerful sorcerer to turn the world into an after school special on this, a very special episode of The Unsleeping City.

Bad idea of the day, No Really A Starstruck ODYSSEY edition: The crew take a smash and grab job investigating missing people near a remote outpost, and discover a mad scientist conducting strange experiments but also offering great hospitality and food. Can the crew of the Wurst figure everything out before the more foolish of them (gunnie) end up as pigs?

Bad idea of the day, just how sure are you about this new god edition: In the summer before junior year, Fig and the Sig Figs record a music video for their new smash single. Watching it for the first time, Saint Kristen Applebees notices something in the video that noone else seems to be able to see: A familiar tabaxi, hanging out in the crowd watching the concert.

Bad idea of the day, that gum you like is going to come back in style edition: Fig at last discovers Porter's one flaw that makes him a truly intimidating barbarian with an unstoppable rage: Students putting chewed gum onto the bottom of their desks.

Bad idea of the day, ashes to ashes edition: Tired of Fig's chainsmoking cloves, Jawbone and Tracker stage an intervention to maybe at least talk her into some sort of rebellious vice that doesn't stink up the home of two werewolves with strong senses of smell at least

Bad idea of the day, my frog is real and so is magic edition: Adaine grows up without spellcasting ability at all until on the morning she starts at Aguefort, when on her way walking to school she runs across a frog who offers her magical powers she might be able to use to improve her life.

Bad Idea of the Day, You Wouldn't Steal a Car edition: Seeking to impress his father, Fabian gets into Solace's new age of piracy, selling illegal copies of movies, music and apps throughout Elmville. Will the lawsuits catch up to him in the end, or can his amass a horde of treasure suitable for a Seacaster?

Bad idea of the day, unfamiliar edition: At Some Point in the future, Jayhson feels a magical tug from afar and appears due to the whims of one of these 'humans' who has summoned a familiar. Can he kill this whizzered and get back to his family?

Bad idea of the day, I shot the Sheriff edition: Riz wakes up one fine morning in his office to discover Agent Angela Worrel came knocking in the night, and one of the traps his paranoid ass has set up for his office has killed her. Can he cover up this capital offense, or will Worrel finally succeed, posthumously, in getting at least one Bad Kid in jail long term?

Bad idea of the day, foreseeable problems edition: The Hangman gets impounded due to a series of unpaid parking tickets, leading Fabian to argue that the Hangman should count as a pet and not a vehicle. This results in him also getting tickets for having his dog off the leash.

Bad idea of the day, Heaven or Hell edition: Following an unfortunate but hopefully temporary death, Figueroth Faeth finds herself at the center of a dispute between the planes that threatens a war, as Hell wants its archdevil but Rock Heaven insists that they have a claim to everyone who has a rock album go platinum. Will this begin a true battle of the bands?

Bad idea of the day, I admit these are getting weirder edition: The bad kids wake up one morning in the midst of a campaign designed by just the worst kind of a DM, with railroaded sidequests, boring samey npcs, and combat every six feet. Can they figure out what's going on and escape back to Spyre before rocks fall and they all die?

Bad idea of the day, Lost Things and Misfit Toys edition: Irritated as hell at the blue fairy after ending up a puppet again, Pinocchio turns not to his new stepmother for power but instead someone else who dislikes the blue fairy, someone else who believes in the occasional misdirection, someone who is pretending to be the blue fairy's sister…. one "Gwendolyn Thistlehop".

Bad idea of the day, the WORST fusion edition: After she goes on a mission trip to parts unknown, all of the bad kids notice that Kristen is acting… odder than normal. This is because (burrow's end spoiler!) she's being piloted by chipmunks, of course.

[meadow-roses]

Hey can you explain the main plot of keepers?

I'll do my best, I hope this will answer your question 😂

So the main concept of "The Keepers" is a collection of stories that play with the crossover trope. It's hard to say exactly what the plot of the keepers would be at this point in the development, since we're still coming up with the plots of all the individual stories that make up the crossover.

Each of the main characters has their own story they were/are the protagonist of, who's "happy ending" is interrupted by the instability of the universe. They end up meeting and teaming up when they realize they all share exactly the same villain and he's still trying to win.

The main villain is a scientist driven mad by grief, still trying to make his vision a success despite all the loved ones he's lost along the way as a direct result of his research. His end goal isn't necessarily bad- bringing magical equality to the world- but ends don't justify the means and he's tearing apart the universe trying to make everything "fair".

Functionally, Skylar is the main protagonist, mainly because his story kicks off the plot time-bomb but also because he's kinda the one rolling around the multiverse inadvertently collecting allies. (Despite the fact he vehemently insists he's a one man show lol) The other Keepers are Ketsler, Felix, and Betty, but as you might have noticed the cast is pretty extensive. 😂

Skylar's story is a folk fairytale style adventure of two brothers trying to learn what it means to be a Man and also break a curse, but unfortunately the end of the world happens.

Felix's story is a sci-fi/fantasy superhero story set in a dystopian future about family, friendship, and what true bravery is. The main character accidentally becomes the leader of a planetary revolution and meets his true love.

Ketsler's story is about "the prophesied one" struggling to fulfill his role when deep down inside he's just another regular dude, but thankfully the power comes from outside and not within. He, his cousin, and the med student they befriend try to figure out what the source of the evil magic is and it goes terribly wrong.

Betty's is still in the early stages, so I don't quite know what the themes will be, but she is an orphan with psychic powers that lets her hear other's thoughts... including the thoughts of ghosts. In search of a way to use her powers for good and also find a place where she belongs, she moves to Earth and joins the interplanetary organization that studies and controls the supernatural. She certainly meets some supernatural things. :)

There are a Lot of other characters, but those are the main four. Other significant persons would be: Gigi (Skylar's brother), Grace (Felix's wife), Vokku (prince of the Fae), Rhyin (Ketsler's cousin), Haru (Ketsler's apprentice), Vinni (Rhyin's girlfriend), Edmund (the bard from Thistled Rose of Glishern) and the kids from the Ageless War wip.

It's a. Really big story because it's kind of like a 12 book series, so there's a lot of stuff still up in the air that could easily change next week or two years from now, but that's how it stands currently.

If you have any more questions or would like clarification on a point Please don't hesitate to send another ask! I don't want to hit you with a three page essay right off the bat lol

Thank you SO MUCH for your interest and your support!!! 😭💕

[eir-parade]

Dreams ⭒✮⭒ Destination (DnD)

Wonderlands x Showtime Adjacent Troupe

A group of performers and entertainers that want to bring smiles and laughter to the audience.

Ootori Emu - Troupe Leader. Princess. Wants to save the Wonder Stage and bring smiles to everyone.

Hinomori Shizuku - Knight Captain. Main Actress. Wants to be able to make Shiho smile again - remembers how much Shiho enjoyed stories of fantasy and dare-do-wells.

Azusawa Kohane - Hunter. Actress, Partial Script Writer. Doesn’t really seem to have a dream of her own, but was captivated by one of the troupes performances and found herself wanting to do the same but lacks the confidence to put herself out there.

Akiyama Mizuki - Witch of the Woods. Costume Designer, Partial Script Writer. Wants to be able to express themselves through their fashion and found themselves inspired further into doing so by one of the troupes performances.

SEKAI: Fantasy SEKAI

Can also be called the Storybook SEKAI.

The main meeting point of the SEKAI tends to be the Castle, but it does expand out into a small Kingdom Town as well as a forest.

The residents of the SEKAI seems to be a mix of plushies and bipedal animals.

First Virtual Singers

Hatsune Miku - Story Teller. Purposely looks like she doesn’t fit into the SEKAI as she is not part of the story, only the one telling it. Always found in the Castle’s Library, writing or reading or sorting/tidying the Library. Is always excited when the others come to her to tell her something.

Kagamine Rin - Knights Apprentice. Looks up to Shizuku and aspires to be just as strong, beautiful and confidence as she is. Does eventually notice that Shizuku is all confidence and has her own issues but Rin promises that she will be Shizuku's strength. Is kind of like the groups one man hype squad, but can be a bit suffocating in her support.

Virtual Singers

Order of Appearance (StC)

KAITO - Wandering Bard. Represents confidence. Was the one who specifically helped Kohane through her confidence issue during the main story and allowed her the moment to catch herself and sing from her heart. He is always found in the Woods and sometimes in the Town, rarely ever comes to the Castle. He never seeks out the others and instead allows the SEKAI and their feelings to bring them to him if they’re ever needing a confidence boost or simply someone to talk too about their struggles. Mostly always seen strumming on a lute but can appear with other instruments too. (Appears in Main Story)

Kagamine Len - Butler. The groups carer and everytime they arrive in SEKAI, he immediately appears with drinks ready for them whether they accept it or not. Despite being the one to take care of the troupe as part of his role, he always ensures the other that they don’t always have to be in service for everyone else. That is always okay to take break for themselves and allow their ‘mask’ to drop. And if not to people in the outside, at least to those in the SEKAI. However, his advice is very rarely ever taken but by GODS will he continue trying.

MEIKO - Merchant. Unsure exactly what her role is right now at this point but she’s always the one offering a smile and laughter to the others and will totally 100% try to convince them to buy something when they visit her shop

Megurine Luka - Evil Queen. Mizuki’s assigned distance partner. Similar to KAITO, she is always found in the Woods and sometimes in the Town. Has never appeared in the Castle since she was first introduced to the SEKAI. Mizuki is the only one who doesn’t seem to have trouble seeking her out. If the others seemed to be worried for Mizuki however, Luka will allow them to find her, otherwise, though not impossible, the others normally struggle to find her ever. Like Niigo MEIKO, she keeps her distance from the troupe and other VS’s, and always seems to question Mizuki’s willingness to ever tell anyone their secret.

Subject to Change as I go on figuring out this AU more.

[hunterontheedge]

A Post About Video Games I’ve Played

hi! If anyone is looking for game recommendations, I suppose I have a few. If you’ve played all of these, props to you, but this post is for people looking for something new. Without further ado, here are some games I have both played and recommend to people!

Wandersong by Greg, Em, and Gord

Story rundown: You’re a bard who’s on a quest to save the world through the power of song! Along the way you’ll meet many people and make lots of friends! Go on a musical platform in adventure, solve puzzles, and find a unique way to interact with the world!

Price: $19.99 USD

Release: Sep. 27, 2018

Content Warnings: Topics of death, War and Racism are present late game, Flashing lights

Underhero by Paper Castle Games

Story rundown: The chosen hero has failed on their journey, and you, an underling of the evil king, decides to take their place. This timing-based combat RPG platformer has you venture all over the land and face off against various bosses- including your own.

Price: $14.99 USD

Release: Sep. 19, 2018

Content Warnings: Death, Amnesia

Everhood by Chris Nordgren and Jordi Roca

Story rundown: You, a wooden doll, has had their arm stolen and are on a quest to get it back. It’s an unconventional adventure RPG that’s filled to the brim with musical battles and strange people. You are in for one hell of a trip.

Price: $9.99 USD

Release: Mar, 4, 2021

Content Warnings: Lots and LOTS of flashing with bright colors, Trippy imagery, Death, Religious imagery is involved, Amnesia

Heartbound by Pirate Software

!!This game, as of writing this post, is not finished!!

Story rundown: A story about a boy and his dog, alongside secrets… and, sanity.

Price: $9.99 USD

Release: Dec. 24, 2018

Content Warnings: Animal death, Abusive relationships, Trauma

Rain World by Videocult

Story rundown: You’re a creature they call a slugcat, living a nomadic life as both predator and prey. Every slugcat has their own unique story, and with the addition of downpour, there comes more to venture and explore. Grab your spear and brave the wilderness, but be wary- you look delicious to larger creatures.

Price: $24.99 USD

DLC Price: $14.99 USD

Release: Mar. 28, 2017

Content Warnings: Death

Battleblock Theater by Behemoth Games

Story rundown: Buckle your pants for one wild ride— A ship full of friends has crashed on a deserted island with a theater on it. Lo and behold, this theater is filled to the brim with cats— and they’ve done something terrible to your best friend, Hatty Hattington. Now you must platform and perform deadly stage plays to save him!

Price: $14.99 USD

Release: May 15, 2014 (Steam date, actual release April 3, 2013)

Content Warnings: Despite being filled to the brim with poop jokes, there is in fact Traumatic Events.

——⭐️——

All of these games hold a special place in my heart, and if you’d want to try them out, tell me what you think! Every price listed is the price on steam. My own personal reviews of these games are- well, all of them were good in their own unique ways, I just have an eclectic taste.

[foldingfittedsheets]

So we get a quest drop that’s basically this horrible evil Company that’s been doing war crimes needs to go down so this powerful but clueless person just drops a million flyers on the city being like, “1000 gold if you kill those guys”

We find the person responsible and we’re like, hey, don’t incite violence let’s do this by the book. We get them in contact with a reporter and do an exposé on the war crimes. The public gets riled up about the war crimes.

Then we start a peaceful march on the governor after rousing the rabble. The governor comes out and gives a speech like, “Don’t worry citizens, I got this.” Then he literally calls us up and goes, “I have a job for you.”

We meet the Governor and he proposes, “I’ll invite all the Company execs to a spa and you guys go murder them.” We don’t care for that. We realize he’s going to double cross us cause we weren’t on board with the murder plan. So I cast Modify Memory on the damn Governor to make him think we’re on board.

At this point we look at the DM and we’re like, “I understand this is DnD and it’s not as fun to go through the court system but murdering a bunch of people in a spa seems pretty evil.” The DM informs us we went past what he thought we were gonna do several stages ago and we’re flying by the seat of our collective pants now.

So we roll up at the spa with the plan to knock out and capture all the leadership. I use a group illusion spell Seeming to turn myself into a different bard who my character hates called Bentley Pankhurst I rename him Bentley Pandersnatch for unknown reasons and the rest of the party is my sexy tiger backup dancers except the rabbitfolk barbarian, who insists on being my fur stole.

We bluff our way past the guards and into the spa and then Bentley took the wheel of my soul and proceeded to body roll into every room, flirting with the company heads and getting them to essentially agree to be charmed as a magic drug trip. This works but is a finite ability.

After I run out of that magic the cleric throws down a Silence and we just attack the remaining guy in our room. Now there’s two more guys in the next room who must have noticed everything is suddenly silent so Bentley just body rolls into the next room and starts doing the most extraordinary mime routine to the guys in there so they’re not spooked enough to run away or alert the guards. They’re into this mime show.

Meanwhile in the last room the Company guy has been punched unconscious and our Druid decides to cast Web to tie up and gag all five of the people we’ve captured so far. Then the party start joining my room.

The paladin just runs in and starts punching. Still looks like a sexy tiger. Bentley starts miming, “Oh no, what?” in the background behind this as if to say, “Who could have foreseen?”

Next the cleric pops in. Also a sexy tiger. She does a quick grind on Bentley Pandersnatch because they’re dating then breaks away to commence punching.

Then.

Into the utterly silent room.

With two sexy tigers assaulting them. These guys witness a dead and taxidermied stole walk into the room, do a body roll, then set upon them with punching.

At this point the whole session is all of us wheezing for breath trying to imagine the absolute mindfuck these Company guys are experiencing right now as if they’re on a horrible drug trip.

We succeeded in capturing all the targets without any violence against a single guard- and Bentley Pandersnatch promised to play a party for the guard who let us is- a promise I intend to keep the next time we play.

We haven’t played DnD for three months because the DM had a baby. Tonight was our first session back and it went absolutely off the fuckin rails.

I think we all had a lot of pent up chaos that needed to be unleashed.

[softness-and-shattering]

I was fully expectinflg ghe hag to have lair acrions, after all that warning eith the door and the myltie stage descent into the lair. Though I guess having the duplicates fulfilled the same role re action economy, and a party of four isnt so big, its not like a cr or d20 party of 6-8. Ive played in bigger groups and its not great.

I wasnt feeling fantastic today so I noodled around unfinished act 1 quests. I found the letter to Kagha. Im torn bc its super fun to have a secret backstory of shadow druids but like. She cant just be a bitch, she has to be 'evil' too? Idk.

Curious if Ill get a dialogue option to tell Halsin about it and how he'll react. I still cant seem to add him to my party. Does he just hang out at camp?

I also found the Harpers lookout. Ive found the scuffed rock, and a similar significant rock by the bridge on the Risen Road but neither Laezel or Larlach can throw them, shoving does nothing, shatter does nothing. Do I specifically need thunderwave? Or a telekinesis spell? What am I missing?

While trying to work out if Wyll can learn thunderwave (seems not) I discovered he has Gaseous Form so I tried using that to investigate some of the burrows Ive come across. The risen road one behind the bouse just leads into the crllar. Havent actually looted that yet. Went into the owlbear cave but couldnt find the burrow in there. And then I remembered Auntie Ethel and got caught up in that quest area.

Thr guy hunting Asterion is interesting. Left him peacefully. Astarion doesnt like me much. I wanted to ask who was huntong him but instead he asked where he was to be taken. Baldurs Gate of course. All roads lead to Baldurs Gate. Excepting that I have quests in thr city like finding Dammon and Mol, Id be starting to believe getting there is the end of the game. I want to buy my people nice clothes! Especially Karlach! And I took Wyll out of armour so he could use mage armour and he was suddenly rather naked. Switched him to showing camp clothes but it was a bit silly.

Mm at one point I directed Wyll to eldritch blast a redkap and instead he used arms of hadar on my bard. I dont know if I misclicked badly or if his patron is messing with him but it didnt happen again. I did swap him out soon after.

Slaps BG3 thus bad boy can hold so many entrances to the underdark! Theres the selunite temple, the drop from the spider lair, the elevator from the zhentarim hideout (considering gaseous form to loot those juice treasure rooms), the feather fall portal from Ethels lair, am I missing any? Presumably the moon towers/baldurs gate exit.

I was partway through the arcane tower when I started today but I wanted lighter questing. And geez area/act 2 has so many magical weapons. Im tempted to keep them all for some super specific cirumstance but id probably do better to sell them. Slowly working out what can be sold.

Im actually kinda mad that rope isnt practical. I got into a dumb pickle in the caravan cave with the gnolls. Jumped down to loot an area and two of my guys couldnt jump back. Grabbed rope and...its useless. So I took a long redy and fed em potions of giants strength and they made the leap easy. (Speaking of I am so tempted to open the case but those letters were very strict about not opening it and idk who its for and what their significance may be. Maybe its treasure. Maybe its a chest full of eye-yeerks. Who knows?)

Im also not absorbing the other eye slugs. Was it the narrator or dream guardian, the first time I used the illithid power, who said "You have lost something you will never get back". I do nooot trust it. Probably second playthrough Ill do it just to play with the game mechanic. Also romance Minthara maybe. I dont trust the sleep guardian but I dont super distrust her either. Idk what her deal is. But we're not absorbing more slugs losing more of ourselves no thanks. Back to the yeerk pool with them.

I do really love the quest diamonds that tell you where to go. "Find my missing husband please" oh there he is he got quite lost huh. Im still laughing at "and dont try ransom him back to me or you'll be skiny and stuck with an old man". The dialogue is really good. Laezel doesnt say shes monogamous, she says "I was interested but all the dogs have been picking you over. I prefer fresher meat". A little degrading, but at leasy shes not doing some weird jealousy thing. Usually I face with my bard. But then I used Karlach to talk to Dammon and all the dialogue options are perfectly in her voice, its great.

Im also loving the map design. Theres plenty going on and plenty to do, but not so much that you get lost in the weeds. Enough that it feels like a big grand world full of history and places to explore that arent directly plot relevant. Its a delicate balance of referring back to main events and keeping things tangential. (The women dealing w the hag for her husband. I never got to tell her about her brothers?? I thought it would be the first dialogue option but no zomvie busband abd off she goes to find their corpses on the fucking path?! Hut the devs cant think of *everything*, its ok).

Also the little things, undergrounds start getting spidery consistently, underground lairs lead to the underdark its very....verisimilitudinous???

Im also wondering if I can fo the underdark and the mountain pass righer in serial or at the same time. I do need to find the githyanki for Laezel that was our very first lead. Plus double the xp double the loot but I was forced into telling Halsin one or the other so idk if the game forces the issue.

K I think thats all I have to infodump today. Oh except seems like Shadowheart was a selunitr kid and thats pretty fucked. She likes me a lot. I dont think I reciprocate to that level. But astsrion doesnt like me much so yknow. Win some lose some.

[reinvent-and-believe]

48 from dialogue prompts + 50 from wordless i-love-yous for geraskier?

Dialogue Prompt 48: “You make me want things I can’t have.” Wordless I-love-you 50: buying them a special treat when you go out shopping

--

It catches Geralt’s eye while he haggles over an outrageously priced jar of alchemy paste with a none-too-impressed herbalist on the outskirts of Novigrad, a buxom widow with thick-braided auburn hair by the name of Irmina.

“This for sale too?” He picks up the brooch from the countertop where it rests in a beam of golden light streaming through a dingy window. He examines it. It’s simple enough metalwork, a brass oval with a scalloped edge, but inlaid in its face is a single pressed yellow flower framed by tiny white blooms encased in resin.

The herbalist’s dour demeanour brightens immediately. “It is indeed!” she answers, her brown eyes shining in a plump, suddenly pleasant face. “Made it myself just last week. It’s something of a hobby of mine, making pretty knick-knacks from the flowers we can’t sell. Got plenty more like this if you’d like to peruse ‘em, master witcher! Forget-me-nots and arenaria, hellebore, violets, any flower you might like.”

A buttercup, he realizes belatedly. That’s the yellow flower in the center.

“No.” He sees Irmina’s brow furrow in offense, so he hastens to appease her. “No need, I’ll take this one. I...I’m partial to buttercups.”

Her freckled face breaks into a sly, knowing smile. “Oh, aye, I’m sure someone is partial to buttercups.” She winks, waving away his stammered attempts at an answer. “Never you mind, I know a man besotted when I see one, and it seems a witcher’s not so different. Tell you what. Fifty crowns for the paste and I’ll throw the brooch in for only ten.”

-

Leaving the herbalist’s shop with an overpriced paste, a lighter purse, and a useless trinket, Geralt curses himself for a fool.

He’s not sure why he bought it.

He knows buttercups are Jaskier’s favorite, of course. “None but the noblest of flowers for my sobriquet!” Jaskier had squawked indignantly when Geralt once made the grave mistake of referring to the pesky things as weeds after he’d stopped Roach from chomping on a patch of the bright, poisonous blooms.

They are weeds, buttercups. They serve no function. They can’t be used in any of the potions, decoctions, or oils Geralt brews, nor do they have any particularly helpful curative properties for humans.

“As ever, my dear witcher, you have no sense of poetry,” Jaskier had sighed in a most put-upon voice when told as much. “Their function is they’re pretty. Their function is to enrich our lives through the beauty of the natural world.” He’d looked to the sky, tip of his tongue between his teeth showing through his frown as was his custom when puzzling through the right way to turn a phrase. “From a strictly utilitarian perspective, perhaps the buttercup has less value than, say, moleyarrow, or verbena, or chamomile, even. Some plants provide nutritional or medicinal or alchemical qualities of various sorts. But some exist to make life worth living! To transform the banal into the sublime.” He’d plucked a buttercup from the roadside, twirling it between his long fingers. “It’s graceful and balanced, effortlessly beautiful. It’s vibrant, bright like...like sunlight, on a summer afternoon! And when you see it growing alongside the various and sundry flora, it fills you with the loveliest burst of warmth, like a lover’s smile.”

“So...it’s a pretty weed.”

“You’re incorrigible, witcher, that’s what you are.” Jaskier had huffed dramatically before tucking the buttercup behind Geralt’s ear, his face alight with a delighted grin.

Like sunlight on a summer afternoon.

-

The Kingfisher Inn is crowded when Geralt arrives. He goes to the bar, orders an ale from Olivier, and leans against the counter to take a look at the stage.

Jaskier loves playing the Kingfisher. In many of the inns he plays across the Continent, he’s relegated to a corner to try to sing over the clang of dinner, his only option to win the common folk over a raucous drinking song or a filthy ditty. And while the bard doesn’t shy away from such vulgarities, the patrons of the Kingfisher tend to be of a more artistically inclined ilk, responding with appropriate gusto to the virtuosic art songs that he rarely performs outside of competitions or Oxenfurt.

Or so he’d explained to Geralt when he’d suggested they meet up at the inn.

Jaskier sits atop a tall stool on a rather large stage framed by crimson curtains, his sky-blue doublet a vivid contrast. The audience, enraptured, listens to his ballad, a melancholy tale of a fair maiden who’s violently killed before she can profess her love to a farmhand in her village, a beautiful, strong, kind man whose hair shines like a blaze of pale fire in the sunlight. Her love for him tethers her to this world, and her spirit—bitter, weary, and endlessly yearning—calls the men working in the fields to join her dance at midday, when the sun is in its zenith, hoping against hope for the chance to finally confess to her beloved.

In the end, the brave, noble farmhand sacrifices himself, hoping to stop the spirit’s killings by listening to her song and joining her as she beckons. And as they are reunited, as she finally kisses the lips she’s longed for in a blinding blaze of sunlight, they pass on together, their spirits becoming one.

It’s a contract Geralt worked a few years ago, a noonwraith outside Oreton—or at least something close. As ever, Jaskier has taken artistic liberties, romanticized the actual events (“Sometimes, in our pursuit of Truth, we must sacrifice the facts,” Jaskier loftily explained on more than one occasion. He seemed quite taken with the profundity he seemed to find in the statement. Geralt called it pretentious once and Jaskier hurled a chunk of bread at his head). Once it might have bothered Geralt, but he’s grown accustomed to Jaskier’s rather malleable relationship with veracity in his ballads. There’s no denying the impact of his storytelling: when Geralt glances around the inn, he sees several patrons discreetly dabbing at their eyes.

It’d been an ugly case, leaving him feeling empty, drained. Noonwraiths haunt his thoughts far longer than most the monsters he dispatches. They’re victims of circumstance more than anything, young women who’ve been transformed into bloodthirsty, violent spirits through no fault of their own, through the violence inflicted upon them. Nearly forty men had fallen prey to her before the farmhand distracted her with his kiss—though Geralt would hesitate to classify his grotesque, gruesome sacrifice as such—so the witcher had a chance to strike her down with silver. Jaskier has spun the miserable tale into something beautiful, moving, something that clearly resonates with his captivated audience, that speaks to a greater force at work than the chaotic, banal evils the witcher sees every day, and Geralt thinks he understands, for a moment, what the bard had told him of Truth and facts.

(Geralt doesn’t know what greater Truth is served by changing the beloved farmhand’s hair from the dull brown it really was to “a blaze of pale fire,” but then, Geralt’s not a poet.)

The final notes hang in the air, all eyes fixed on Jaskier for a rapt, breathless moment before the room bursts into wild applause. Jaskier stands and bows deeply, once, twice, a third time, surveying the room as he offers his thanks. When his gaze catches Geralt at the bar, his expression of showman’s grace vanishes, a flash of something that looks almost alarmed for a split second before it’s replaced by a small, gentle smile.

Geralt nods and raises his mug toward the stage in cheers, draining the remainder. Jaskier is quickly swept into the swarm of captivated fans, accepting their praises with a gracious, if distracted, smile.

The witcher turns back to the barkeep to order himself another ale along with a glass of wine.

“Geralt!” Jaskier swerves to avoid a near-collision with a frenzied barmaid on his way to join his companion at the bar. He grabs the wine glass with a groan of appreciation, taking a swig before asking, “Is this for me? Gods, but you’re a marvel, darling, I thank you.” He takes another sip and sends a disarming, roguish wink to a pair of girls staring at him and giggling to each other. “I wasn’t sure when you’d arrive, but it wouldn’t have mattered, I suppose, they only had one room to let when I checked in and it hasn’t cleared out since. You’ll share mine, of course, but I’ve been here a week so, you know, best brace yourself, I’ve quite made the place my own.”

Geralt snorts. He’s stayed in enough rooms that Jaskier has made his own over the past decade to predict with some certainty what mess he’ll soon venture into.

(Doublets draped over furniture after they’ve been discarded; crumpled sheets of paper tossed near, never in the fireplace; a few near-empty bottles of wine; a shirt hung to dry over the modesty screen between the sleeping and bathing areas; bottles of a dozen oils and perfumes and soaps scattered haphazard near the tub; an unmade bed that may well contain an abandoned undergarment or forgotten stocking left by some well-satisfied guest.)

“Have you eaten? Shall we? I’m starved, felt jittery all afternoon and didn’t eat a damned thing which was all well and good until I got onstage and suddenly wished for a fainting couch. Or we could take your things up to the room first, of course. Oh! We could have them bring our dinner up to us, it’s awfully crowded down here tonight and I’m not sure I’m up to socializing all evening, to be honest, I’ve been dreadfully out of sorts, did you notice, Geralt, that I’ve…”

Jaskier continues his ramblings, and the witcher can’t help a twinge of worry for his friend. It’s not unheard of for Jaskier to be in a heightened state over a particularly important performance, but usually afterwards the nerves dissipate and he seems more himself. Not to mention, why would playing in an inn prompt such anxieties? Even if the Kingfisher clientele trends toward the more refined than the country folk he often plays for, it’s still rather a low-stakes environment to trigger such stress.

“New song?” he asks casually. Jaskier always beams when he notices such things, when he makes an effort to ask about his music.

Instead, Jaskier blushes, looking away with an expression that almost seems guilty. “Ah, yes, well, I wasn’t certain when you’d be arriving, of course, I thought I might try out something different, a sort of test audience, as it were, to feel out the piece before I use it for anything important.” The look he’s fixed on Geralt seems almost wary. “Did you...like the song?”

Geralt shrugs. “Not quite how it happened,” he grumbles, out of habit more than anything.

A smile, genuine and rueful, breaks out on Jaskier’s face. “Gods, I’ve missed you, my friend,” he says, shaking his head and looking away quickly.

“Hmm.” He reaches quickly into the coin pouch at his side, thrusting the trinket from the herbalist into Jaskier’s hand with a brusque, “Here.”

“Whatever have we got…” He cuts off as opens his palm. “Oh.”

There have been so few times over the years that Geralt has seen Jaskier speechless that he begins to worry he’s offended him. He turns the brooch over in his hands, once, twice, his thumb swiping gently over its smooth enamel face. He doesn’t look up.

Even in the crowded room, Geralt can smell the shift in his demeanor, the muted sickly-sweet anxious smell becoming something sharp, metallic, pained, like he’s been stabbed. “You’re upset.”

“I...no.” Jaskier shoves the brooch into his trouser pocket, a tense smile on his face, not at all reaching his eyes. “Thank you, Geralt, it’s lovely. Shall we take your bags to the room now?”

“I didn’t...I didn’t get it to upset you.”

Jaskier laughs, a broken thing, and Geralt grows even more alarmed. “You didn’t, it isn’t that, sometimes I want things I can’t have is all.” He grabs the saddlebag sitting at Geralt’s feet, not meeting his eyes as he rushes past him up the stairs to the last bedroom in the hall.

Geralt follows after a moment, giving his companion a respectful distance. There’s a tightness in his shoulders, a knot in his gut that only grows as he watches Jaskier’s hand tremble on the key as he unlocks the door.

It was a stupid idea. He knew it was stupid when he bought it, yet he bought it anyway, somehow ruined everything anyway.

“Here we are.” Jaskier’s voice is filled with a forced cheer as he sets the bag down, hand never leaving the doorknob. “I’ll go fetch us some supper. Or, actually, you know, now that I think of it, I’ve a few errands to run before it gets too late, meant to do it earlier but you know how it goes, lost track of time…”

“Jaskier.” Geralt moves toward him but stops himself, helpless. “Please. I’m sorry I upset you.”

Jaskier stands in the doorway for another moment. He takes a deep breath, closes the door, and walks slowly to the writing desk in the corner. He pulls the chair out, moving the doublet strewn across it before sitting. He doesn’t look at Geralt.

“You didn’t.” Every word is calculated, deliberate. “What kind of ungrateful wretch gets upset over...over an exceptionally thoughtful gift from a friend after a time apart?”

Geralt sits on the edge of the bed. His elbows rest on his knees, fingers locking together as he stares at the floor. “You’re not a wretch. The fault is mine.”

“Dammit, Geralt, there isn’t fault, I only—why did you bring me a gift?”

Geralt frowns. “I’ve bought you things before,” he says slowly.

“Things, yes!” Jaskier vaults from the chair, pacing listlessly about the room, no longer trying to mask his inexplicable distress. “Lute strings when I broke a string and I was low on coin. The lute is my livelihood, it made financial sense for you to replace the string so I could pull my own weight, help you when we pass through several towns in a row with no contracts. Boots when you noticed the hole in the heel of my old pair, because I slow you down limping about in footwear that’s falling apart. Room and board, sometimes, because you know I’m good for it, I’ll cover you the next time.” He’s stopped pacing, stares silent into the fireplace.

“Wasn’t keeping a tab.” Geralt’s voice is quiet. “You needed strings and boots and food and a room.”

Jaskier doesn’t turn to face him, but Geralt sees his hand slip into his pocket, pull out the brooch. His head bends, studying it.

He’s not offended or annoyed or angered by the gift. He’s hurt. But why?

Except...

Jaskier looked guilty when Geralt brought up the song. Like he’d been caught red-handed. Did you like it? he’d asked. Incredulous.

The noonwraith singing her song in hopes that her beloved hears her confession. That he’ll hear her song of longing and come to her.

Hair like a blaze of pale fire, not dull brown.

Sometimes I want things I can’t have.

“Geralt?”

The witcher snaps back to attention, eyes fixed on Jaskier, finally facing him.

“Why did you get it for me, Geralt?”

Geralt frowns. “It’s...pretty,” he starts lamely. “I thought you might wear it when you play. You wear gaudy things.”

Jaskier snorts, a small, crooked grin on his lips.

“It made me think of you,” he confesses quietly, his eyes tracing the wood grain of the floor. “Sometimes...things don’t have to have a function. It was a buttercup and it was pretty and it…made me think of you.”

When Geralt dares to raise his eyes, Jaskier’s staring at him, brows drawn together and mouth slightly agape. After a moment, he walks toward the witcher, sitting carefully beside him on the bed. He reaches his hand towards Geralt’s and presses the little brooch into his palm.

“Will you pin it on me?” he asks softly.

Geralt nods.

His fingers feel thick and clumsy as he fumbles with the delicate clasp. The top few buttons of Jaskier’s doublet, as ever, are undone, but it closes neatly just beneath his exposed neck. Geralt slips a finger beneath the satin fabric to pull it away from his throat, cautiously piercing the fabric with the thin pin and sliding it into its slot, locking the clasp with shaking hands.

His hand doesn’t move from Jaskier’s chest. A sword-calloused thumb, seemingly of its own volition, grazes lightly over the bobbing Adam’s apple.

“Geralt.”

He looks up, almost pulls away but for the flushed cheeks, the tongue that darts out to wet pink lips, the hooded eyes beneath dark lashes fixed on Geralt’s mouth. Jaskier’s breath is warm against his face. When did they draw so close?

“Are you going to kiss me, Geralt?” The breathy whisper is laced with wonder.

And he didn’t...didn’t buy the brooch to entice Jaskier into anything, didn’t mean to solicit any sort of reward, and he opens his mouth to tell him so, yet as his rough hand moves to gently cup the back of Jaskier’s neck the words that tumble out instead are, “I’d like to.”

And Jaskier throws back his head and laughs, a euphoric, intoxicated sound, as his lovely hands cradle Geralt’s face. He brings his forehead to rest against Geralt’s as they still, breathing each other for a moment before Jaskier surges forward to capture his lips.

His kiss tastes like sunlight.

[pillage-and-lute]

Prompt: fake realtionahip/marriage, whoever you like!

Ooohoho! This has been chilling as a draft for ages, now I have completed it. *mildly evil laughter*

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The funny thing about Geralt, Jaskier thought as he did up the buttons on his best doublet, was that he really didn’t lie. He said things that weren’t true, but they were usually things he believed, or thought he believed because he was tired or grumpy. Sometimes he told half truths. He didn’t lie though.

It wasn’t even as if he didn’t have a poker face, Geralt’s face was all poker face, he just hated lying. Normally it wasn’t an issue, but tonight, Jaskier reflected, it wouldn’t be ideal.

Jaskier had heard through some whispered words at a pub that a bunch of Nilfgaardian nobles were having a gala, and the temptation of finding out what political secrets they could was two strong for their odd little family. So Geralt and Jaskier were going undercover.

There had been quite a bit of debate about that. Jaskier was obviously going. He’d grown his hair longer and had a bit of scruff going, and to be frank, all a bard really needed to disguise themselves was a new name, people saw the clothing and heard the music, but rarely remembered the face. Yennefer would have been the ideal partner in crime except for a crucial thing.

When Yennefer had been changed by magic, her eyes had been left the same. Somehow, the transformation had solidified them, and no spell would change them. Her eyes were too distinctive, and so she would stay behind with Ciri. That left Geralt, and since the ball was only for the nobility, he would be the fiance of Julian Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.

Damn.

See, Geralt didn’t lie, and that was bad enough. Jaskier wouldn’t be able to rely on Yennefer’s in-depth knowledge of the nobility and that was worse. Worst of all though, was the fact that Jaskier would have to spend a night full of wine and dancing pretending to be in love with, and engaged to, Geralt. Who he loved.

And who had, not three months ago, blamed Jaskier for every bad thing in life.

Since then Geralt had caught up with him half-way down the mountain and there had been some grumbled words about how Jaskier ‘wasn’t actually, exactly, a total curse’. Not a glowing review, but then Cintra had fallen, and they had Cirilla and they’d found a wounded Yennefer and it had all gotten so very busy.

Jaskier cast a last look in the mirror as the door to his room creaked open. He turned, expecting Geralt, but it was Yennefer.

“I suppose,” she said, eyeing him. “That this is as good as you get.” It could have been said cruelly. A year ago it would have been. Now, though, the words were fond. 

“I like the kohl, it goes well with the wrinkles at your eyes,” she winked. He smiled. There were no more wrinkles now than had been twenty years ago, and they both knew it.

“I wasn’t sure about the eyeliner,” Jaskier said, trying to sound haughty. “Overdramatic eye looks are your thing.”

Yennefer chuckled and sat on the end of the bed. “A tiny smudge of eyeliner is hardly overdramatic.” She studied him approvingly, then looked at him. Her expression was frighteningly soft.

“Have you told him that you love him?”

“Never,” Jaskier said, fiving his cravat in the mirror.

“Why ever not?”

“It would only be the mountain all over again,” Jaskier sighed. “I tried, you know. I spent years trying, and then on the mountain, I thought I was being clear...”

“What did you say?”

“I asked him to leave it all, just for a little while, with me. I thought we could go to the coast.”

“The coast,” Yennefer said from her spot on the bed. “As in Lettenhove? You wanted to show him where you grew up?”

“Partially. I could explain the immortality business easier if he met my sister, but mostly I just thought it would be peaceful.”

Yennefer snorted. “With Geralt? Peaceful? He’d spend the whole time fighting drowners and telling you not to write about mermaids because they’re vicious.”

Jaskier smiled wanly. “That’s pretty peaceful for him.”

“But he said no?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Jaskier said. “Then he, well, you know, he spent the night in your tent.”

“Ah,” Yennefer said. “For what it’s worth, I hate that it happened too.”

“He doesn’t though!” Jaskier cried, whirling around to face her. “He wants it to happen again! And you! You don’t want him but he wants you while I want him!” The frustration of the whole situation and nerves for what was to come were overwhelming. “And you’re here, trying to help me,” he said more quietly. “Why?”

“Because I like you,” Yennefer said, simply, standing from the bed. “And I like him. I also never, ever want to kiss him again. The djinn is sitting, somewhere in my chest, telling me I love him, but the feeling is...sick. It feels like love, as well as I can remember, but it’s poisoned and twisted and I want no part in it.”

Her purple eyes pinned Jaskier to the floor.

“And that poison pales in comparison to how much you love him. He deserves that.”

She swept out the door, tossing a “Sort it out,” over her shoulder.

Well.

The next knock at the door was Geralt, Ciri in tow. Jaskier hoped the witcher hadn’t heard any part of his and Yennefer’s conversation, but he suspected that no one overheard conversations that Yen didn’t want them too. 

“Dandelion!” Ciri said, leaping at him and using the name she’d first met him under. “You look nice! Like a prince in one of your stories!”

Jaskier blushed and thanked her quietly as he scooped her up and tossed her, laughing, onto the bed. 

He looked at Geralt for his opinion.

Oh he looked so good too. Yennefer had charmed him so that anyone else would see a different man in Geralt’s place, but to Jaskier he looked just the same. But he was wearing white. 

A white chemise, the collar and cuffs with fine red embroidery, with a cream colored cape, half length so it fell just to Geralt’s hips. It was embroidered too, green and pink and so many other colors, despite being overall still mostly cream. The pants were the same creamy fabric with a stripe down each side. Dark boots and a wide, decorative, dark belt completed the look.

“Wow,” Jaskier said.

“Rivian traditional clothing,” Geralt muttered. 

“I thought you’d hardly actually been to Rivia,” Jaskier said,.It was a better choice than the other thoughts in his head, which were half-formed screams about how absolutely skin tight those pants were.

“I haven’t been, but my...character is.”

“Right,” Jaskier said, dragging his eyes above Geralt’s shoulders. “My fiance, Ludomir of Rivia.”

Geralt said nothing.

Jaskier kicked himself for mentioning the fiance thing.

“We should go,” he said.

And they went.

The lord’s castle was small, as castles go, and the guards at the gate didn’t even bother to check their invitations. With all the other lords and ladies streaming past, no one would guess that the pair were out of place. Jaskier and Geralt enterred the ballroom and Jaskier felt his stomach drop straight through to his shoes.

The walls were positively lined with Nilfgaardian soldiers. Geralt’s shoulders stiffened too, but they steered themselves to a feast table as if nothing was wrong.

It took them almost a full circle of the tables to find the two little cards for ‘Viscount de Lettenhove’ and ‘Guest’. Getting onto the guest list had been laughably easy, and Jaskier just sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the stupid title was finally useful for something.

They sat in their places and guests populated the seats around them. There was a lady next to Jaskier who already smelled of the strongly alcoholic sherry that was being served. Her hair, probably a wig towered, and was strung all over with so many pearls and little tiny golden ornaments that when she stepped outside she must surely be attacked by magpies.

“My lady,” Jaskier said, as chivalrous as he could around a mouthful of her rose perfume. “I’m afraid we haven’t had a chance to be introduced.”

“Oooh,” she giggled, “You’re sweet, I’m Dame Au’Vigne, and I can see by your card that you are the Viscount de Lettenhove, I knew your father.”

Yes, Jaskier thought. I remember, he turned down your proposal. Jaskier had been a lad then, barely eight years old, but he remembered through a child’s eyes a mountain of lace and perfume who had offered to marry his father while actually at his mother’s funeral.

“It’s a pleasure,” he said. Heinous bitch, he thought. He remembered rumors too, which are always a bard’s stock and trade, that Dame Au’Vigne’s husbands were always wealthy, usually handsome, and all of them had shockingly short lifespans. 

Rumor also had it that she was backing Nilfgaard financially and had been playing the shipping stock with insider knowledge of their movements. A very good person to be seated next to tonight. 

“May I introduce my fiance, Ludomir of Rivia,” Jaskier said, gesturing to Geralt. Geralt nodded and hummed, somewhat politely.

“How handsome,” Dame Au’Vigne stage whispered. “Where ever did you find him?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Jaskier said.

The lord of the castle stood up and gave a droning speech. It was full of euphemisms about ‘upholding standards’ and ‘fostering strong relations’ that boiled down to ‘I’m an untrustworthy bastard who believes that allowing the deaths of my people en masse is fine so long as I make money.’ It was depressing, too, as Jaskier looked around the ballroom to see so many people nodding in agreement. 

Traitors and bastards, the lot of them.

Geralt’s face hadn’t changed even an inch.

“So,” Dame Au’Vigne said as the appetizer course was served. “You two aren’t exactly in a honeymoon phase, are you?”

And she was right, for a couple, newly engaged, Jaskier and Geralt hadn’t acted the part yet at all.

“I’m afraid,” Jaskier said, inventing wildly. “That we’re both just a touch nervous, the engagement is so new, you see, and this is our first event,” he took Geralt’s hand, above the table, so Dame Au’Vigne could see. “As a couple.”

“Oh how sweet,” she said airily. “You know, they’ll have dancing between the courses, it’ll be a great way for you to wet your social feet. Sir Erdin and the lady in the lavender dress,” she pointed across the ballroom. “They’re newly engaged as well.” She lowered her voice.

“Sir Erdin is very supportive of the cause, word has it he’s in with the very inner circle,” Dame Au’Vigne giggled, as if being in the inner circle of a murderous group of intruders was as delightful as a recent engagement.

“How interesting!” Jaskier said, affecting a jealous and impressed tone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Geralt’s eyebrow twitch, the way it did when he was listening hard.

“Oh yes,” Dame Au’Vigne said. “And Lord Snapcase, in the corner, he...” and she went on, was the marvelous thing, she couldn’t seem to help herself but gossip about everyone. And she had all these details about how they were helping ‘the cause’. Destiny must have finally decided to throw Jaskier and Geralt a bone.

Then the appetizer course was finished and Jaskier felt much less lucky. Dame Au’Vigne was ushering him and Geralt out of their seats to dance. It wasn’t one of the quick, hopping around, switching partners dances either. No, the band seemed insistent on only slow, romantic music. 

Awkwardly, Geralt slid one large hand around Jaskier’s waist and they turned in slow circles on the dance floor. The witcher’s face looked like a thunderclap.

“Try and look like you’re having fun, darling,” Jaskier said. Please don’t look at me as though holding me is torture, his inner self begged.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. Jaskier leaned in.

“Really dear heart,” he leaned in even closer, lips almost touching Geralt’s ear. “People are going to suspect something,” he said in the barest of whispers.

“Let them,” Geralt hissed back in the same fashion. “We’ve got the information, we can leave.” 

Jaskier, keeping up appearances, tossed his head back and let out a delighted shriek of laughter, as if Geralt had just told him a joke or, perhaps, made a wonderfully indecent proposal.

“Later, perhaps,” he said, stage-whispering for the sake of those around them. Leaning in again he whispered for real, “We can’t leave until the party’s over, no one else will, they’d send some of those soldiers after us for sure.”

The music changed, and Geralt and Jaskier’s slow circles changed speed with it. 

Geralt hissed in his ear again, “I don’t see why I had to be your,” this close Jaskier could see Geralt’s jaw working with distaste. “Lover.”

“Fiance,” Jaskier said, trying not to let his heart sink. It couldn’t possibly go any lower. “There’s a difference.”

They said no more to each other, and after the second dance, declined the third to sit back at their seats and await the arrival of the soup course.

The man sat beside Geralt was some old military man, mostly mustache and the rest of him was a rather musty and very old fashioned uniform. It had gold braid and a colonel’s insignia. The hat that sat next to his chair had a plume. 

He leaned over to Geralt and said, rather loudly, in a voice that implied tone deafness, to both volume and social situations, “Just marrying him for the money, eh?”

People to both sides of Jaskier and Geralt looked around. Dame Au’Vigne looked at them askance.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. It was a negative answer to the colonel’s question, but the man didn’t take it as such.

“Often is the way,” the man nearly bellowed. “My missus hated me right up to the day she died.”

Jaskier curled in on himself. The role of Viscount wasn’t a big one, mostly administrative and, these days, completed by his sister Rowena, who was better at sitting behind a desk. Still, argued a battered part of his long ago but still proper upbringing. The name of Pankratz was being dragged through the mud. Lots of these people would know the name too, these sour, vindictive, unpleasant, murderous people. And they’d know the gossip, would have taken part in the gossip about ‘Young Julian running off to be a bard,’ (this generally said with the same tone as is usually leant to slave trader) and how ‘he’ll never find a good marriage now,’ how he was ‘a disgrace to the name.’ 

And here was their long awaited confirmation. Jaskier-Julian, couldn’t find a good marriage, was being wed only for his money. Of course, more than half the pairings here were only in it for the money, but to have it said, so loudly too, and before the wedding had even happened, it was social condemnation.

Jaskier looked down at the table cloth, his face hot. He’d faced social condemnation before, of course, he’d survive. What hurt was that Geralt wasn’t really protesting, Geralt couldn’t even pretend to like Jaskier, not for a single evening. Twenty years he’d done a good enough job of acting to convince even Jaskier, mostly, apart from the punches and the insults and...maybe Jaskier had been a little blind to the truth but still. 

It was ruining their cover though, so he protested quietly. “Not just for the money,” he said, patting Geralt’s hand where one fist wrapped around his goblet. “My fiance is just shy, that’s all.”

The damage was already done, but the old colonel hiccupped. “Well lad,” he said, giving Geralt a slap on the back. “This ale’s pretty good so drink up. Got me through three years of happy marriage, strong ale did.” The man took a slug of his own drink. “And fourty seven more unhappy years.” He guffawed hugely and unpleasantly, little drops of ale flinging from his mustache. 

Wherever the soul of the unpleasant man’s dead wife was, Jaskier felt sure she was happy to be away from this miserable old drunk.

Geralt, however, was looking at Jaskier. Their eyes met. Jaskier knew he probably looked as hunted as he felt, and his cheeks were probably still burning from the embarassment. Still, it seemed as though Geralt was about to say something. His golden eyes were full of emotion, but Jaskier couldn’t parse out what kind. 

Whatever kind it was, it caused Geralt to take the colonel’s advice and drink like there was no tomorrow. 

Great. Jaskier had driven his companion to drinking. 

He felt a little like doing so himself. 

The soup course was good, hot and savory, but underspiced. Geralt slurped it up gratefully. Jaskier knew that rich food was usually too much for his senses if it was spiced to Jaskier’s taste.

More dancing. Jaskier didn’t stand, at first, assuming that Geralt would rather sit and drink more. There were some snickers as people judged him. Geralt stood though, and he offered a hand and led Jaskier to the dance floor.

“You need to act drunk,” Jaskier whispered in his ear. “If you were a normal man you would be.”

“I am acting,” Geralt rumbled.

“You’re very steady for a drunk,” Jaskier sniffed.

“You said I was shy, now I’m less shy,” Geralt whispered. “And I’ve been drinking. So...drunk.” It was torture, being held like this, having that voice in Jaskier’s ear. That hand, so warm cupping his own. He wanted to cry.

A couple whirled past them. It was the Dame Au’Vigne, gossiping to some new dance partner. A snippet of her words caught them.

“-de Lettenhove. Entirely loveless of course. Unlovable, his father said once, of course as a bard-” then the tide of conversation and other dancers stole the rest of the words.

Jaskier sagged. His father hadn’t been a nice man, and unlovable wasn’t the worst of what he’d been called in his life, but now, with Geralt so close and so disgusted by the prospect...well, it hit a little close to home. 

“Laugh,” Geralt whispered in his ear.

“What?” Jaskier hissed.

“Like before, laugh like before, but...more so. Pretend I said a dirty joke.”

Jaskier did, heads turned as he pretended to laugh, half scandalized and half delighted at something Geralt said.

Geralt even chuckled along with him. Then his hand crept down Jaskier’s back to his hip. It wasn’t dirty. It was just so,so spine tinglingly close to dirty.

It was almost worse. If Geralt had gripped his ass that would have been bad, but this, Jaskier was left to speculate. He had a very active imagination. The couples next to them were giggling and tittering, scandalized, but not too much, at the pair.

They danced all three dances. During the second dance Geralt spun Jaskier out and then back in flashily, dipping him over one arm like a dainty maiden. Jaskier, who was no dainty maiden, knew the strength that elaborate dip must have taken and his head spun. The third dance was slow, and once again they simply held one another and turned in slow circles. Except Geralt pressed their cheeks together in a way that was so intimate that Jaskier finally gave in. Just tonight he had Geralt, all of him, his attention, his warmth. 

There was only so much a bard could take, and Jaskier gave in to the fantasy.

“I wonder how Yennefer is,” Geralt whispered. “And Ciri.”

It was like having cold water poured all over him. Jaskier’s fantasy shattered as soon as it had formed. Of course Geralt wasn’t enjoying this, of course his mind was elsewhere. He had a beautiful sorceress to think of, even if they weren’t sleeping together. Geralt and Yennefer and Ciri made the perfect, happy family. Where did Jaskier fit in to that?

He pulled back a little, already missing the warmth of Geralt’s cheek against his own. They finished the dance stiffly.

Back at the table, squished between Dame Au’Vigne and the colonel, the main course was awful. Jaskier couldn’t judge it on the food, which he barely tasted. Dame Au’Vigne and the colonel, however, had apparently come to the conclusion that Geralt or, Ludomir, rather, was marrying Jaskier for the money and the sex. They tittered, loudly and drunkely, to those around, and Geralt leaned in.

“Surely we can leave after this course,” he whispered.

Desperate to be rid of the charade, Jaskier thought. To not have to be engaged to me. “Can’t,” he whispered. “Have to stay for dessert and more dancing, else it looks suspect.”

“Hmmm.” It was a displeased hum.

“And, there will be small talk, with dessert. You need to say something, people will think you’re mute.”

“You two twitter into one another’s ears all the time,” Dame Au’Vigne said loudly. She was fully drunk off the sherry and very loud. “But not one kiss,” she lowered her voice, as if trying to be discreet. It didn’t work. “Is it truly as loveless as they say? I know you aren’t waiting until marriage.”

As who say? Jaskier thought. The only person quite that invested seems to be you.

“Not loveless,” Jaskier said. It seemed weak even to his ears.

“Surely you’ll join the dancing again, then,” Dame Au’Vigne said. 

“No,” Jaskier said, fiddling with his napkin. “I’m feeling quite too full to dance, ate too fast, I’m afraid.” He hoped she was too drunk to notice he’d picked at his plate. It seemed she was.

“Lovely little veranda, get some air there,” said a man who, according to Dame Au’Vigne, was shipping weapons to Nilfgaard behind the backs of multiple heads of state.

Jaskier nodded,stood, bowed, and made his escape. He sighed, but wasn’t surprised to find that Geralt had followed along behind. Of course he wanted to escape the party too, but Jaskier wanted to escape...him.

To his shame and surprise, he found tears in his eyes. The pressure of sitting in a room chock full of people who wanted to kill him, combined with the fact that every last one of them reminded him of being bullied in school, and add to that that he was supposed to be fake engaged to Geralt...it was too much. Fake engaged and even in their fake engagement Geralt didn’t like Jaskier. 

Jaskier’s rational brain knew that Geralt did like him, mostly. He just didn’t love him.

Jaskier leaned his elbows on the railing, overlooking some moonlit gardens, and felt the tears roll down his face.

“They think I don’t like you,” Geralt said quietly.

“Yes,” Jaskier said. He knew Geralt could smell the salt of his tears or whatever, but still turned his face away so the witcher couldn’t see.

“I danced with you though.”

Jaskier chuckled wetly. “Nobles dance with people they hate all the time.”

Geralt was quiet for a minute then, very gently, he took one of Jaskier’s hands. “I don’t hate you.”

It was too much, Jaskier started crying in earnest, sobbing.

“C’mon, Jaskier, I like you. A lot.” Geralt was, for him, panicking clearly. Jaskier almost smiled. He was so bad at dealing with other people’s emotion. And his own.

“You’re my friend,” Geralt said, a little stuntedly. “You know I’m not a good liar.”

Too much. Twenty-two years and he finally said the word ‘friends’ and Jaskier wanted more. He whipped around to face Geralt.

“Tell me the truth, then, Geralt. Tell me you love me, it doesn’t have to be the truth for forever, but can you love me just for a night? Can you make it the truth for tonight?” Jaskier’s tears were ugly and blobby and drying up fast but he continued.

“Because I’ve loved you so long I don’t know any other truth,” He leaned forward and planted his forhead on Geralt’s collarbone and sniffled through the last of his tears, curling one, shaking fist into Geralt’s lovely pale cape as he cried. “Just this one night, Geralt, love me back.”

He hadn’t meant to say any of it, was half expecting Geralt to toss him off the low balcony into the bushes below. 

Instead Jaskier was lifted by two strong arms and sat down on the railing. Warm, delightful lips pressed against his and suddenly he was being kissed within an inch of his life. 

“The truth, you want,” Geralt said, pulling back and panting. “Is the only one I can give. I can’t pretend to love you.” Here Geralt looked into Jaskier’s eyes, like being struck by lightning. “I only love you, no pretending, I swear it.”

“But-” Jaskier was cut off.

“They think I don’t like you,” Geralt said, furiously. “I think you think I don’t like you, Jaskier I like you, I love you so much I don’t know what to do and I’m...I’m not good with words. Or emotions.” Geralt’s shoulders dropped a little. “I just am, and the way I am is... The way I am is better with you.” 

Geralt’s face screwed up with anguish. “And I’m the reason you think I don’t like you, it’s my fault and that feels so...so bad. Yennefer’s been working with me on the feelings thing and always says ‘bad isn’t a feeling’ but I can’t tell you what all the feeling is.”

Jaskier was staring, mouth open, as frustrated, stilted, fumbling words left Geralt’s mouth. They sounded angry, but only at himself. Geralt was looking up at him as if seeking benediction.

“Tell me you love me again,” Jaskier said.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

Jaskier giggled as Geralt lifted him and spun him around before tucking him in close and kissing his forehead.

“I,” he said.

A kiss to Jaskier’s nose. “Love.”

A deep, breathtaking kiss to his lips. “You.”

There was nothing left for Jaskier to say except, “wow.”

Geralt smiled, that lovely warm little smile he saved for special times and offered his arm to Jaskier. “Shall we?”

They paraded back into the ballroom and danced the final dance of the set. Geralt whispered a suggestion of what he’d really like for dessert and this time Jaskier didn’t have to fake the scandalized giggle. “Back home, perhaps,” he said.

Dessert meant more conversation with Dame Au’Vigne, which was of course unbearable. There was plenty of Champagne though, which was pretty good, and the bubbles seemed to fill Jaskier all the way up. He took pleasure in picturing the downfall of all these horrible people when Nilfgaard was finally defeated for good.

He especially enjoyed sticking it to her gossip when he fed Geralt a strawberry with cream from his fingertips and recieved a kiss in thanks. Geralt was clearly enjoying himself too. He had a sweet tooth, and that certainly helped, but his hand that never left Jaskier’s under the table was a much better clue.

They walked back to the inn, flushed and warm in the cool night air, bidding farewell to the other drunken lords and ladies all filtering to finer inns or grand coaches. 

Then they were alone on their path back, Geralt’s witcher senses confirming their isolation. Then, Geralt, who never told lies, whispered sweet nothings into Jaskier’s ear the entire way home. Jaskier believed every single one.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s done, this one’s quite long and I loved writing it. Geralt is useless at playing pretend, but very good at loving Jaskier in his own way. I imagine his emotion lessons with Yennefer must have been rather intense. 

[giransbunnywife]

SO A DEVELOPMENT HAS HAPPENED AND i DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO-- other than just scream about it on a post and just y'know... go to town on it to get it out of my fucking head bc it's been there since last night.

I've noticed that over the course of these many rewatches of Vox I have inevitably fallen into the fucking trap that is this fucking horny bard and I can't fucking breathe-- I don't know what has happened but here we are... me screaming about scanlan... enjoy this while you can bc I will be deleting this after a while ao;weijf;owiefa I'm trying to be tsun but it's not working. I keep thinking about scenarios and things and I jsut a;owiefj;aowijefaef

So when Bunny joins the group a lot of them are untrustworthy with her, but not everyone. She's very cute and sweet, which means that the likes of Pike and Keyleth are gonna be drawn to her. Percy suspects her, but he's not as loud or aggressive. Just softly watching her with heavy eyes while Vex is skeptical of her sweetness. She eventually softens over time, though, because she's too cute and attractive for her own good. Though she won't admit it out loud.

Vax and Scanlan are the loudest, however, in their distrust for this adorable elf person who just seems too cute and sweet. They're both insistent that no one can be that sweet, especially Scanlan who is very loud about how that "cuteness must be a cover for EVIL", when in fact she's just... traumatized lmao. That's why she's so sweet, and the group will come to learn the truth of her past eventually.

But as for her and this fuckin gnome, it's very all over the place bc of the prior suspicions and such like that. There's many instances of him trying to "prove" her insidiousness, however he just falls short every time. Or embarrasses himself.

Oh but until he accidentally overhears her talking to Say in confidence about how she might, sometimes, in certain lights, find him hot. And this COMPLETELY flips him upside down for a loop and confuses the fuck out of him. So from then on it's a matter of wtf is going to happen with these two. Does he still suspect her?? Is she kind of hot af too?? Yes-- Yes she is. And thus begins this weird suspicious yet chase situation?? Still hammering out details but--

I was thinking about one specific scene for fucking HOURS and I can't get it out of my head. When he finally after all of his advances and heavily hitting on her, he finally gets her to agree to just have one fucking night. She doesn't necessarily make anything out of it at first, but they have gotten to that stage where she does-- and this becomes a thing between them.

And this one fucking scene is just-- After multiple (and I do fucking mean multiple) rounds, lying in the aftermath of everything... here Bunny fucking lays underneath the sheets while trying to catch her breath. Her hair is a mess and the sheets barely cover her fucking frame and she is sweaty and unkempt but she is BEAUTIFUL-- fucking ravaging. She is wondering how in the hell that she got here and why she's so fucking?? happy about it?? after so long of joining the VM group and falling in love with so many of them, here she is with scan of all people--

And she's?? fucking happy??

Her pleasure drunken smile only further proves this, listening to this goddamn mf while he compliments her beauty. And she's just amazed that it got this far at all. That he fucking somehow wormed his way in and she is already thinking about the next fucking time.

"You are... fucking good..." She breathes through soft pants, combing her hair back with her fingers.

She knows that she shouldn't compliment him and dare stroke his ego more, however she can't help it. The sex that they have always keeps her coming back, after all. That and... other things that she's not ready to admit yet.

And sure enough she has to witness the consequences of her actions, which is a cocky fucking bard that's still in her fucking bed.

"I know... I get that a lot--"

She narrows her eyes, ready to swat him the second that she feels it is deserved.

"But I do like hearing it from you."

"Mhm," She mumbles under her breath, sitting up on her elbows.

There was a soft pause while she collects her breath, knowing that whatever came next out of her mouth would most likely be turned into something else from him. It always does whenever they're in this kind of predicament together.

"I had a fun time tonight..."

"Is it over already?"

She laughed, tossing back her head and hitting it against the pillow behind her.

"Was kind of hoping that I could do a little bit more of that thing--"

"Just shut up before I change my fucking mind."

But she doesn't fucking mean it. She knows deep, deep down that she doesn't fucking mean it.

[thebibliosphere]

Hi bibmum, I tried to start watching the witcher because its all ive been seeing on my dash lately but i could barely get through the first episode. The witcher character telling a rape victim that she's the bad guy for killing her rapists? The "if i have to choose between a greater and a lesser evil, i refuse to choose"? Just. So nasty. But you seem to really love it so im just wondering if it gets better bc the first episode sucks.

I’d need to watch it again cause I don’t remember that particular line with Renfri (not doubting you, I just don’t remember how bad it is), but I think one of the key things about understanding Geralt’s character dynamic is that you’re not actually supposed to like him as he is at the start. 

He’s someone carrying a lot of trauma and with that a whole heaping side of depersonalization which can often come off as inexcusably cruel and callous from the outside, and we really don’t get into the whole “being a Witcher has something like a 99.999% fatality rate and that’s just how many die as children in training” thing for quite a while yet. 

The whole “witchers have no emotions” thing isn’t just some throwaway line meant to make them seem “othered” from humans or the “strong flawed silent” type we often have for heroes in popular fantasy media. He’s legitimately been conditioned to have zero emotions by his training, and part of his survival instinct is to maintain that facade by ignoring his own emotions because the thing about trauma is once you open that box and start trying to unpack it all, it’s impossible to put it back. And in Geralt’s case, opening up to things and becoming attached and caring is going to get him killed. (Not to even mention all the people that will die if he’s not around to slay monsters.) 

That doesn’t make any of the shitty things he says or does right, but as someone who deals with depersonalization as part of my own trauma, I thought the show actually handled his development quite well as the episodes progressed. You see him coming to terms with the fact that, shit, he can’t be impersonal anymore, he can’t stick to just his training because his training isn’t enough. His training got that girl killed. His training makes him the monster. And he knows that. And he’s determined to never let it happen again.

Thus begins his arc of growth, showing that Geralt is someone who does care, he does have profound compassion for those around him (if not always empathy) and he wants to help people so badly, but other than being a brute for hire, he’s not sure how to do that.* 

And then because fate is nothing if not a laughing trickster, Geralt suddenly finds himself flung into things that demand more emotional energy and depth than a  teaspoon and oh boy, does it never rain but it pours. Like the shiny, shiny bard who is basically ten people’s worth of emotions in one body and is determined, nay, decided to be friends and keeps following Geralt around like a lost puppy singing that fucking song. Or the witch who is seemingly hell-bent on her own destruction in the pursuit of what looks like power, but is actually just a desire to be in control of her own life after centuries of abuse, gaslighting and manipulation (and who, like Geralt, doesn’t know how to be “normal” and perpetuates the cycle of her own abuse because control and manipulation is all she’s ever known). Or the child who by the law of surprise is suddenly his. He is for all intents and purposes a father now, the one thing Witchers are never supposed to be, and just what the fuck is he supposed to do with a child? 

So he does the whole “run away thing” for as long as possible, because Christ, that’s a lot of scary emotions right there. That’s more emotions in the span of about 10-20 years than he’s dealt with in the some near 100 years he’s been alive. But he can’t keep running, he knows that. Destiny is an active force in this universe, and it will come to find him. It will hold his feet over the fire and hold him accountable for his actions, and worse yet, it will go after the people he loves if he doesn’t. 

So yeah. There are lots of things all the characters in the Witcher say and do that are Problematic. No one is an unproblematic fave, everyone is messy, ugly, broken and sometimes just outright cruel. Some parts of the show made me deeply uncomfortable (I’m thinking of the orgy scene with Yen in Episode 5 which is big yikes for a lot of us, though I have more thoughts on that than I have room for on this post) but there were other parts that made me realize that if the writing keeps up as it is, and we get to move beyond the “meet the characters” stage we’re currently in, this show has the potential to be phenomenal. 

So to finally answer your question? Yes, it does get better as the episodes go on. But there will still be moments that raise the yikes meter, but those moments are, I believe, intentional. The show wants you to have strong reactions to things and to throw your hands up and go “come on man! do better!” because we know they do get better. We know from all the other source material we have, that what we are seeing in the show right now is just the messy beginnings of a very complex story. 

And also just because the hero says or does something in the narrative, doesn’t mean the show is promoting the bad things as “right”. If anything it wants you to question it more because it’s the hero doing the thing, and heroes are supposed to be better than that. And we know they do, because deep down at its core, the Witcher is a story about a trained monster killer, who goes out of his way to help the monsters. Sometimes he can’t help them and death is the only option. But we’re all faced with things we’d rather not sometimes. Including the reality of our own actions, and Geralt is someone who is wading knee-deep in them.

(*As an aside: we see him at his best when he’s dealing with monsters and animals because they’re not complicated in the way humans are. He talks to his horses because he’s able to show Roach love and affection and care, and it just comes off as good horsemanship, and likely wouldn’t have been discouraged during his Witcher training. And he’s able to help monsters, because, well, he likely sees himself in them.)

[dailycharacteroption]

Celebrity (Pathfinder Second Edition Archetype)

 Another week begins, and we’re starting it off right with another archetype that jumped from 1st edition’s Advanced Player’s Guide to its 2nd edition counterpart!

The original celebrity was a bard archetype that focused more on the unique social interactions that come with being a well-known individual from level one, as well as making use of that fame to leverage for more favorable social and monetary situations, as well as crowd control, gathering large crowds and keeping them distracted.

The 2e version of course is not limited to the bard, and is instead focused a bit more on the devotion a celebrity feels towards their fanbase, as well as leveraging the attention of others for support benefits.

In any case, while I imagine that even in 2nd edition, the majority of celebrities remain bards, while others might famous for other reasons, like being a world famous arena champion, or the hero that saved countless lives, and so on.

 At the base level, this archetype lets the celebrity work just a little bit harder to match difficult tasks when working for income. What’s more, they capitalize on the failures of their foes to upstage them, outperforming them.

Whatever manner of work or performance these figures are known for, many know how to fight back exhaustion to push further when others are watching them, staving off fatigue for as long as possible.

Celebrities seem to be almost supernaturally able to hold attention, even able to lock gazes with another, making them unable to look away due to the emotions that convey to their target.

This demand for attention also helps out in other ways, helping them to break the hold of visual effects on allies, as well as making it hard for foes that use such effects to focus on anyone else, even providing a distraction for allies to hide.

Bard, champion, sorcerer, and even swashbuckler are all good candidates for this archetype, but any class can make use of it if they are a public figure that works with large group. They should probably have a high charisma score and have done at least one amazing thing to actually warrant their celebrity status though. Regardless, this archetype is great for characters who wish to go against foes with similar skill sets to their own with their upstage reaction, as well as focus their foe’s attention entirely on them and not on the rest of the party, good for a tanky character or a clever character with all sorts of tricks and traps to lure foes into.

 Folk are never celebrities without reason, so consider carefully what is it about your character that makes them famous. Some might have done something early in their career as part of their backstory that makes them famed, like being the youngest graduate of a wizarding school, or a burgeoning champion that stood defiantly before a great evil at least long enough for reinfocements to arrive, if not slayed it themselves. Others might pick up the archetype later, and likely have done so after committing some great act. Like a bard that rolled a natural 20 to compose a powerful tale or song, or even simply the events of one of their adventures warranted the character celebrity status, which they capitalize on by taking the archetype.

  Crowds clamour for tickets to see Serena Birdsong, a sylph-blooded strix with a snow-white plumage, in concert, for her music is famous at this point for its enchanting quality. However, not all is well on the stage, for she currently owes money to the thieves’ guild, a debt she hopes to annul.

 Doctor Havarius, curer of the Skullplague, became famed for his heroic actions in relieving the land of that dread illness, using his fame to push through his other projects. Now, however, the alchemist has gone missing. Searching his laboratory, the party will find a horrific grothlut, a type of slug-like fleshwarp. But which is worse, that the good doctor was studying this forbidden practice in secret, or that the beast might just be the good doctor, fallen prey to hubris?

 What is fame if it fades? What are stories if they are forgotten? That fear is what drives famed performer Vaccin to pursue dark magics. He hopes to inscribe his very soul into the form of a ballad, so that as long as it is remembered in some form, he is immortal. However, the next step is to inscribe that ballad into the very fabric of the demiplane of dreams, guaranteeing it will exist in some form as long as there are minds to dream it, at the risk of twisting the collective unconscious of the entire multiverse to suit him.

[prismy-sprout]

O&O Classes

Sci-Twilight Sparkle ⚙:

- Artificer: This class choice pretty much explains itself, Sci-Twi main attribute is having quite a handle when it comes to technology and creating gadgets, so playing a class that can create equipment and weapons it´s quite fitting.

- Wizard: Despite not being focused on magic as much as her Equestrian counterpart, she has a good understanding on how magic works on her dimension, making this class not that weird for her.

- Ranger: It´s a bit odd having a class that most of the time spents it´s time on the wilderness for a girl that pretty much lives on a lab, but, rangers can be seen as strategists aswell, by placing traps and gaining advantage over battlefield while staying on the back-line supporting her allies.

Pinkie Pie 🎈:

- Bard: Pinkie was born for being a bard, this class is designed to raise the party´s morale by the use of songs and rhythm, while also excelsing at roleplay moments such as getting their way by words and being overly charismatic.

- Cleric: Every adventurer party is always down to have a member that can keep them safe with healing and boosts, and since a safe party is a happy party, Pinkie is prone to doing things to make other people happy, so it wouldn´t be strange seeing her on this role.

- Barbarian: Barbarians are seen the most of times as unstoppable forces of anger and destruction, that mixed with Pinkie´s wild card-y and crazy attitude, can make for a small ball of anger and sheer hilarity.

Rarity 💎:

- Sorcerer: Sorcerers are pretty much like wizards, but instead of extensively studing the art of magic, they are naturally born with skills for using their disciplines, that fits Rarity in the sense that she got quite a lot of talent for what she does (fashion, as an example).

- Rogue: Not so much as the kind of rogues that she could consider as “ruffians” that go through the night pick-pocketing people and engaging on “dirty work”, but as the kind that with their high charisma are able to get valuable information from someone with a single conversation, or infiltrating on big events.

- Cleric: Some clerics are seen as part of the royalty and most of them uses gold accessories as part of their outfits, two things that Rarity totally has on her “favorite things” list.

Fluttershy 🦋:

- Druid: Fluttershy checks every single box on what a druid should be, since her first priority are the animals and nature itself, being able to communicate with them and even stopping their actions with “the stare”.

- Ranger: Rangers are like druids that take it upon themselves to protect the land on their own as forest keepers instead of only being part of the forces of nature, taking out her assertive side when needed.

- Cleric: Clerics have the main purpose to aid the injured, and Fluttershy being known for caring so much for her friends, it´s natural of her to be there to heal their wounds after an intense battle.

Applejack 🍎:

- Barbarian and Fighter: These 2 classes fall under the same category since they are all about going on the front-line and dealing a lot of damage to hordes of enemies, which fits to a strong girl such as AJ.

- Monk: Follows the same logic as Barbarian and Fighter, but, it has something else that would totally re-asure the idea of playing this class to AJ, and is the option of instead of using weapons, being able to fight with her bare hands, something that the user of the strenght geode might find as a good time.

- Paladin: Along with Fluttershy, AJ is the one from the Mane 7 who´s willing to put herself on the line if that means she´ll protect the party, but instead of protecting them by healing during the combat or at the end of it, she shields them, avoiding them of receiving any damage.

Rainbow Dash 🌈:

- Rogue: Having a natural rainbow colored hair is not the best attribute to go around without being noticed, but, who needs to go around sneaking when you are so fast and agile that no one nor their projectiles will be able to reach you or even strike you down.

- Ranger: It takes the agility from the rogue, and harnesses it to use a bow or a crossbow and strike down enemies that might be a problem to get from a close combat.

- Fighter: It takes the speed from the rogue, and put it on the front line by quickly taking on enemies and defeating them even before they have the chance to throw an attack of their own.

Sunset Shimmer 🔥:

- Warlock: Warlocks are seen most of the time like “bad guys” of the caster classes because their source of powers comes from selling their souls to a patron, which fits with Sunset´s past, BUT, it doesn´t mean that all warlocks has said conection with evil, such as the Feykind and Celestials, which fits to a redeemed Sunset.

- Fighter: Spell casting might be cool and all, but Sunset may not refuse the chance of instead of boringly stay on the backline where not that much happens, going out and fight sword to sword with hordes and hordes of enemies, where all the fun is.

- Paladin: It seems a bit like the other side of the coin considering her first class option is Warlock... because it is, but, Paladins are seen as wardens, and it fits perfectly to someone who bestowed upon herself the duty of stopping the magic leaking into her dimension.

Trixie Lulamoon 🔮:

- Wizard: She´s Trixie, therefore she´s obsessed with all that comes with magic, it being stage magic, or arcane magic.

- Sorcerer: Remember when I said that magic came to sorcerers just naturally? well, it´s quite fitting for someone who calls herself “great and powerful” to harness impresive magic skills.

- Warlock: Sometimes your own powers are not enough, so it doesn´t harm to take some powers from a source of questionable origins, like an amulet, right?

She might even multiclass all 3 and go all Wiz-cer-lock

(Trixie is pretty much the kind of friend who loves DMing)

Twilight Sparkle ✨:

- Wizard: Who´s the unicorn who has spend all of her life studing magic and even was granted to go beyond her limits and become an Alicorn? that would be Twilight, magic is her entire life, and so is wizard´s.

- Artificer: She might rely more on magic than anything else, but she clearly does not fall behind when it comes to technology, she even figured out how to keep the portal to the school yard permanently opened.

- Ranger: Same logic as Sci-Twi here.