#10 years of this game…when when they finally let its corpse rot

[resurrection-trait]

i was 8 when the sims 3 came out and 13 when sims 4 came out…..i need a cigarette…

[vyragosa]

“ you know a game is good when the ending pissed people off “

except that for someone to be pissed off, it has to come from a place of care and firewatch did a pretty phenomenal job at having a wonderful premise that exploits approximately 1.2% of its story potential at all, if any

a wonderful start for the most empty of nothings

the graphics are evidently nothing to scoff at and the atmosphere sure is perfect, most of the emotional involvement comes from finding clues at all, from opening chests and reading notes of the people that came before, the lack of human interaction is fulfilled through the connection with delilah, as you play, you are completely expecting to meet her at some point or for a groundbreaking reveal in that reguard, that the game could be indeed an experiment or an hallucination of henry would not actually lessen the impact, except, that no impact ever happens.

we at no point, meet, talk about, understand, see a picture of, all those people. no further interest was shown, we as player is not allowed to as well, the only human being we talk to denies us any attempt at further connections with those people instead, we are forced to be the one revealing her the death of her only connection, more concern is given to fleeing responsability than caring about the fate of two young girls who could have been viciously attacked in the woods, torn clothes and tent found

the concern is superficial, and if it is, why should the player be concerned about the two protagonists?

the game’s most impactful moment is sidestepping the corpse of a child.

even two of the most important characters are seen only in the last 10 minutes, which could actually become relevant to the meaning, had it not been handwaved so badly, all of it, handwaving is all this game does.

now the real problem comes from the fact that this story positions itself about MEMORIES, DUTY, RESPONSABILITY IN RELATIONSHIPS

at no point whatsoever, does it challenges any of those points, duties and facing the police? sure, but we are also shown a full camp with visible experiments being conducted, a metallic fence and advanced equipment, that are, never questionned at all. we are never bringing those concerns to anyone else, we are not even questioning their nature or attempting to understand

no attempt of understanding was made during this entire game. the only person who gets it? is a father who let the corpse of his son rot at the bottom of a ravine and fled civilization for years just to not get caught and the player’s character is actively giving him the benefit of doubt and defending him as a loving father to the only person we talk to

the ending would have been in tune with the tone of the entire game, had it been equally dark, had it been equally merciless

instead, it is all handwaved one final time, no opportunity of closure is ever given, no progress, only stasis, the journey amounted to a bleak constatation, even the journey itself did not elicit strong emotions from its protagonist, the one time it was questioned that very same protagonist was the one to dismiss it in the end

[thugnan]

Secret of the Scarlet Hand (PC 2002)

Story: 4/10

Characters: 3/10

Puzzles: 3/10

Chores: 4/10

Final Rating: 5/10

I’ve only played this one once and I honestly can’t remember parts of it or the plot. I love that this was the first appearance of Soony Joon, but other than that all the characters fell flat for me. This one took the educational aspects of Treasure in a Royal Tower and multiplied them by 100, in a bad way. This game played more like a Broderbund game, the puzzles were obnoxious and the play through was erratic (not as linear as its predecessors). Some of the chores involved bouncing back and forth a bunch (like the quizzes). I don’t remember there being any glitches though.  

Plot (spoilers obviously)

Thug Nan gets an internship at Beech Hill, a museum hosting a super big exhibit on the Maya. From the get go you get the impression that maybe this museum can’t afford to do this? Thug Nan is like “wait a minute this internship is paid right?” 

They hand you a list of chores and tell you to get on it. They’re preparing for the exhibition of a giant rock monolith. While doing these chores you meet:

Joanna: Your boss as the museum’s curator. She appears a little young to be running the place and slightly desperate to get income into the museum. Low key she cute tho.

Henrik Vander Hoop: He’s fancy and has an accent. He’s a researcher and knows things about glyphs. Not v social for the most part. 

Ale-ale-jandro: I don’t think I was supposed to like this guy tbh, judging from the responses Nancy had for some of his SJW rants, but yo he’s not wrong. I might be biased as we are basically the same person tho. He works with the consulate and appears to have a close relationship with the museum. He hates Johana and Taylor because they’re pirates. 

Taylor Sinclair: I thought he was a lawyer for some reason? He’s an art dealer, and tbh I’m suspicious of him immediately. I think it’s the mustache. Idk what it is about it but I don’t like it. He calls you into his office because he’s concerned that someone is gonna steal from Beech Hill, which heightens my suspicion of him but whatever. 

As we continue to do errands, we get more of a feel for the museum’s financial situation. When you try to order supplies, the distributor tells you that he sent you to collections and to gtfo.

The next morning, you’re in your office when the alarm goes off, someone has stolen a jade relic of King Pacal’s. The cops come and go, you ask Joanna about it and she gives you the a-ok to snoop up in there. She appears to care more about collecting that insurance monies. Suspicious but ok. 

Henrik is apparently also nowhere to be seen? Suspicious but ok. 

Alejandro and Taylor subtly mention that they were both in the building at the time of the robbery. Idk why either of them would incriminate themselves like that? Suspicious but ok. 

You get a call from Franklin Rose, your dad’s friend that hooked you up with the internship. He’s like legally speaking I need u to investigate this. So Thug Nan is like “aw yee, I’ma do it because you told me to, and not because suspicious Taylor told me to.” 

The robbers left a calling card, because you know, all the smart robbers do that right? Also idk how the cops dropped the ball on this one because the culprit’s calling card is A HAND PRINT. I’da been running the show I would just hand printed everyone in the building, and called it a day. 

So you gotta do some more tedious chores, which you only are able to pull of because the wack who had your internship before you left a bunch of drawings as hints. Soony Joon, I’ma tell u now that I think you’re a mad lad, but also thank you for ur service. 

You get in contact with some other folks that were also struck by the thieves who hit Beech Hill. They send you some more clues. 

THEN HENRIK IS YEETED DOWN THE STAIRS (seriously, what is the deal with this series and stair yeeting?) I’m going to say now that the stairs that Henrik fell down were a lot taller than those of El Paso High School, I’m just saying, idk how Henrik didn’t die but ok. 

Homeboy has amnesia. Johana was booted out of the building for mismanaging the museum and being overall suspicious. You and I know what this means right? Time to trespass go thru everyone’s shit. 

Johana was not happy about being booted out, and begs you to prove that she didn’t steal the pacal relic so the cops will let her go and the board will let her back into the building. I don’t really want to do that but I guess.

I made zero effort to talk Franklin into letting her back in whoops 8D. But she can’t say I didn’t call him. 

Meanwhile Henrik’s nurse/therapist hits you up like “yo he kept saying ur name in his sleep so we think it’s a good idea for you to visit. You can help him get his memory back” Yeah? Well remember that I said that he wasn’t v social? I legit know NOTHING about him, especially since his desk is all locked up. Idk why he was saying my name in his delirium but I hope that he knows that I am completely loyal to Frank Hardy  Ned, and if I were to cheat on him it woulda been with my sweet Maddie in Stay Tuned for Danger. I guess I don’t blame Henrik tho, erryone wants a piece of this Thug Nan. What can I say? I live dangerously. (Altho for once I haven’t been attempted murdered) 

While trying to jog Henrik’s memory you find out:

Henrik probably maybe stole the Pacal, but it sounds like he had Taylor logic. He stole it so the real thieves wouldn’t steal it?

He’s in cahoots with smugglers

Alejandro called the cops on Johana, and needs Thug Nan to “borrow” some papers from her. I don’t like the way he went about it but I respect the balls on this man. 

You gotta find like 5 other relics to open the dumb monolith… great. I still don't know why would want to?

Pacal (the real dood not the relic) built the monolith to suffocate a scribe/reporter that was too nosy for her own good. My dood was harsh.

Thug Nan finds the Pacal because well… she had to. And slowly but surely it begins to come together. Tbh the plot to this game was so convoluted, that I wouldn’t have figured out what I had to do without calling Frank and Joe every other second. 

Somehow I gather all the relics I needed to open the damn box, and you know I’m starting to think. If this Pacal guy didn’t want this scribe lady to ever be found why the eff would he make a key to the tomb in the first place? Whatever. I open the box and T A Y L O R  S I N C L A I R LOCKS ME IN THERE WITH A THOUSAND YEAR OLD ROTTING CORPSE.  THIS MAN IS ABOUT TO FEEL THE WRATH OF THUG NAN. 

Anyway, getting out of there was not that hard, my girl the scribe shoulda made more of an effort, but hey she didn’t have a handy dandy glowstick like moi. When I got out Johana, Alejandro, and a recovered Henry were on the other side waiting? Instead of helping me? They were v creepily like “YOU DID IT NANCY WE KNEW YOU WOULD.” Except they used Dr. Seuss rhymes to tell me this which only made it creepier. Also they knew it was Sinclair without me telling them? Which is like cool but WhY DiDnT U StOp hIm. They play it off as “well he stole the fake stuff” THEY LITERALLY HAD NO WAY OF KNOWING THAT.  

Um, the end?

They left a couple of plot holes unresolved I think? Like Henrik having connections with smugglers. Why did he steal the pacal in the first place? What did he know about Taylor? Who pushed him off the pyramid? Or did he really fall? Alejandro seemed to be peachy with Beech Hill after he found out that the Pacal’s papers were legit? And Johana never asked me about the missing papers, she was also let off with a warning? Okie dokes. 

[darthstitch]

Castlevania Netflix Season 2 Review: All My Bloody Tears

Yeah. Uh. SPOILERS. MASSIVE GINORMOUS SPOILERS. Consider yourself warned.

I'm kind of a complete mess as I write this because PAIN! PAIN AND SUFFERING! TEARS! BLOODY TEARS!

While it's not without its flaws, the second season of Netflix's Castlevania is incredible and lives up to the promise of Season 1. This, gentlebeings, is how you set up a sequel and leave the audience wanting more, but still walking away satisfied with what we've currently got.

The Good Stuff

The thing about Castlevania - as the game series by Konami - is that it's pretty much a patchwork quilt of everything goes. Think your favorite fan fiction peeve on AO3, the ones with the ten million tags before you even get to the goddamn story. So on one hand, it's got its clear inspiration from the classic Hammer and Universal Horror renditions of Dracula. But the game series is Japanese, so you have your beautiful anime-esque artwork by Ayami Kojima and the obvious anime influences.

I've played a few of the games, but I'm not going to claim gamer-god status. I just play for the fun of it and I don't hesitate to use walk throughs as a map of sorts, basically figuring out where to go, because the general castle layout is set up like a labyrinth and it is INSANE and FUN at the same time. So far, I've played and finished Symphony of the Night and two of the GBA ones: Harmony of Dissonance and Aria of Sorrow. I'm still trying to master the ones on the NDS. But basically, the premise is the same: You're the hero/heroine, you need to enter the big spooky castle, gather weapons and/or spells to make you stronger and add to your abilities, take down monsters and Major Bads - including Death Himself - and hopefully prevent Dracula from resurrecting and covering the world in Eternal Night. The main timeline basically has Belmonts, assorted Not-Belmonts who also hunt vampires and of course, pretty, pretty Alucard.

Then, there was your AU timeline in which Gabriel Belmont goes to defeat a Big Bad and becomes DRACULA ... and Trevor Belmont is his son, a.k.a. Alucard. Yeah, wrap your head around THAT one.

In short, Castlevania canon is fucked. To quote our Trevor, "Snake-fuckingly insane."

So Warren Ellis does the smart thing and basically picks up what works from the "canon" and crafts a damn good story out of it.

The Disaster Trio that is Alucard, Trevor and Sypha, end up bonding even closer together and spend much of this series in the Belmont Basement...er.... I mean, "Hold," trying to do the game equivalent of gathering spells and weapons to storm the castle with. We learn a few more interesting things about the Disaster Trio. Trevor actually ended up losing his family at a way too young age. Sypha and her people have some pretty "interesting" views about God. Alucard has artistic talents and basically acts his real age, which is a traumatized snarky 20 something year old, who's barely holding on to his composure with his shiny fangs and claws. There are epic moments such as "Treffy" and I would absolutely LOVE to hear the Belmont family story that explains how the hell a book of "penis spells" ended up in the Belmont Family Library.

Seriously. Fan fiction writers, don't fail me now!

Also, Lisa gets a few more minutes to shine and break our hearts at the same time. This is the woman who managed to charm and get one Seriously Scary King of Vampires wrapped around her tiniest finger. She's snarky and sassy as before, but so real, so kind and just basically trying to be a decent person in a Crapsack World. She loves her husband but she knows he can be monstrous. She loves her son but as Alucard himself puts it, she wants him to be able to be himself, be happy and not be overshadowed by his father. Seriously, as long as each season gives us something more about Lisa, I'm gonna be content.

We also get introduced to a few more new characters, who basically make up Dracula's Court of Evil. Hector and Isaac are humans but sociopathic enough to despise their own kind and willing to take part in their death and destruction. They both have their requisite tragic and abused pasts. Hector, however, has an element of naivete that makes him an easy target for the machinations of Carmilla, the only general in Dracula's court who's figured out which way the blood's flowing and wants to make sure she comes out on top. Isaac, however, is somewhat the mirror of Alucard himself. This is the guy who gives his unconditional love and loyalty to Dracula and refuses to abandon him no matter the personal cost to himself or his remnants of a conscience or whatever he has that passes for a moral compass. I figure that it's there, it's just not one that I would recognize. Isaac is a scary, scary mofo and it looks like he and Hector are gonna be back for season 3.

In fact, if Isaac ends up becoming "Death" in this entire series, I'm gonna be evilly delighted.

And then, there's Godbrand, who is basically the vampire equivalent of YOLO. Basically, all he wants is to fight, fuck, drink blood and make boats out of things he shouldn't make boats out of. Generally, he just wants to have a good time, rule the world like a king and make sure the humans know their place.

So okay, let's give Carmilla her due. Evil? Check. Manipulative? Check. Sadistic, vicious and cruel? 10 across the board. In the absence of a Certain Fanged Someone taking a more active role in what should be "The War on Humankind," Carmilla wants to make sure she's keeping things moving, spinning her webs of intrigue and plans upon plans, thinking she's going to come out the winner and make herself the new Queen of the Damned.

Here's the problem. Dracula figures that out, easily enough.

Here's the OTHER problem. His Fanged Nibs is all out of fucks to give. He's done. Finito. Finished with everything.

Yeah, about that.

While the humor of this series is a gift that keeps on giving, the drama and the feels will DESTROY you.

You know that moment when you realize Dracula isn't just waging a war on humanity, he's waging a war to destroy all vampires too? Because in that moment when he lost his beloved Lisa, he hated not only humans, but he also hated HIMSELF. He hates the fact that his life of evil, wanton death and destruction, wrought this price on the person that he loved. And she damn well didn't deserve that treatment. He hates the humans who killed her but he also hates his own kind, who are just as monstrous as he is.

So when Godbrand basically asks him, "If we're killing all the humans, what are we going to EAT?" Dracula basically tries to fob him off with some excuse or the other. Yeah, His Fanged Nibs is a LYING LIAR WHO LIES. Also, this lying liar who lies is actually spending most of his time sitting, brooding and being HUNGRY. Because he's not drinking blood. At all. Any blood drinking we see from His Fanged Nibs is in flashbacks.

Let that sink in for a second.

Aluard accuses his father of basically doing history's longest suicide. Yeah. It is - Dracula wants to take EVERYBODY down with him.

The fight scenes are worth the wait. I was screaming when the classic "Bloody Tears" started playing in Episode 7, an episode that I'm gonna watch like ten thousand times more, because OH GOD THE EPICNESS OF IT. The sheer badassery. The fact that Alucard is actually the secret identity of Moon Moon.

And then, the final fight between Dracula and our Disaster Trio is just as epic as expected. Even when he hasn't drunk blood, the trio is outmatched and outclassed and this is where you remember that if Dracula had only roused himself long enough to give a flying fuck about something, Carmilla's head would have been rolling on the floor a long time ago.

But then: "My boy.... I'm killing my boy. This is your room. Your mother and I painted these walls, made these toys. Lisa.... it's our boy. Your greatest gift to me. And I'm killing him. I must already be dead."

GDI WARREN ELLIS HOW VERY FUCKING DARE YOU.

The only way they take down Dracula is because he basically wants to die. So he lets his son kill him and end his misery. And when his rotting, decaying, corpse seems to be reaching out to his son for some kind of last embrace, Trevor, thinking that Alucard's going to be hurt, takes Dracula's head off. Sypha burns off the remains.

And it's done.

Castlevania is a game with numerous endings, all depending on how you played the game and whether you got this artifact or what not. The series pays homage to it because Trevor bequeaths the Belmont Hold to Alucard and asks him to be the last defender of it and his father's Castle. It's not going to be Alucard's grave, but his home now. Trevor and Sypha wander off into the sunset, for more adventures and mischief and Alucard lovingly sends off his BFFs with a fond "Fuck you."

We check in with the villains who survive and of course, we know there's gonna be sequels, because, hey, that's kind of the point of each and every Castlevania game. There's always gonna be a new Big Bad coming around. And trust me, Dracula's gonna be back. He's not just going to lie quiet in his grave.

And just when you think you can end this series with a satisfied sigh, our very last moments are spent with Alucard. Who is haunted by the ghosts of the parents he loved so much. Who gets to relive one happy memory with his mom, who loves him with all her heart. And she's so proud.

And Alucard finally breaks down into heartbreaking sobs.

We grieve with him.

The Bad Stuff

Yeah, okay, so I need to get this explained. Why bother to have all these interesting character designs for Dracula's other generals AND NOT HAVE THEM TALK? I'm serious. Not one of these fascinating-looking vampire bastards HAVE ANY GODDAMN LINES. Netflix, FFS, DON'T WUSS OUT ON YOUR CHARACTER ACTORS. YOU CAN'T BE THAT POOR. GIVE THEM VOICES. PAY YOUR CHARACTER VOICE ACTORS. OMG.

They basically just get killed off in the end, but while we know they were pretty scary and formidable, we don't really know anything about them other than: Vampire, Scary, Dracula's General. They were just pretty much Red Shirts, because the heroes never did get to confront Carmilla, Hector and Isaac directly.

There was evidently so much story to be told here, like they seem to have come from all over the world, even as far off as China AND THEY'RE. NOT. TALKING. The only ones with any dialogue are Carmilla, Hector, Isaac and Godbrand and none of these guys even get to share screentime with the Disaster Trio. Godbrand doesn't even make it to the final battle.

I mean, if these guys were just going to be cannon fodder, then let's just use any of the voiceless Major Bads from the games. Put some requisite scary music and sound effects and let the Disaster Trio take care of them. Let them speak in mysterious archaic languages or whatever, since we're not going to care about them anyway.

The Conclusion

Apparently, this is gonna be a pattern for this series. It's going to be good, it's going to be GREAT but there's always going to be that ONE THING that would drive us batshit crazy. But not enough to wreck my enjoyment of it.

The best parts of this series is the faithfulness to character, the layers upon layers of motivations and feels you're going to uncover as you rewatch it, the fact that it's not afraid to put tongue in cheek and leave canon at the door, while still being true to the source material.

So. "What is a man? A miserable little pile of secrets. But enough talk! Have at you!"

[daebakinc]

We Make the Kingdom - Pt 16(M)

Image by silverdagger865 Pairing: Yongguk x OC Genre: Fantasy, with Angst and Smut Summary:  After a vampire attack leaves you almost dead, you are rescued by a group of werelions, powers long thought to be extinct. Upon discovering the same magic flows in your blood, you join their fight against encroaching vampires and another, very human monster, to save the kingdom. A/N: I’m really sorry this a week late. Like I said, Lamia made a surprise appearance and threw a monkey wrench in things. Sorry again for the delay! Previous parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ,  8, 9(M), 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16(M), 17, 18,  Final

Dead grass crumples into tiny clouds of dust the instant you step on it. The entire plain is empty and lifeless as if ravaged by an immense fire. Iron gray clouds dominate the sky, stretching from horizon to horizon with no promise of rain, and make it impossible to tell if it is day or night. The darkness is the same. Unease creeps through your limbs at the sudden feeling of unseen eyes stalking you.

Trying to find your bearings, you scan the scenery for any recognizable landmark. Mountains rise harsh and ominous behind you. Opposite them is a solitary walled city surrounded by dozens of small mounds. The Capitol. Not a single torch burns along its parapets to guard against the encroaching dark.

Something is wrong.

Shifting into a lioness, you set off at a dead lope, long legs devouring the ground. As you come closer, dread grows in the pit of your stomach. The city walls that appeared whole and strong from a distance are pitted and crumbling with neglect and destruction. Some sections have been tumbled down to no higher than your shoulder. Half of the great iron gate lies propped against the wall. The other half still hangs on its hinges, an enormous hole ripped through its center as if a rabid monster burrowed into the city.

When you pass the first set of hills before the city, a smell so nauseous hits your nose that it causes you stumble over your feet as you skid to a halt. Rotting flesh permeates the air so you cannot breathe without it coating your tongue. Gagging, you paw at your snout, trying to cover it.

You open your mouth to pant, but nothing can take the bitter tang from your mouth. Resigned, you breathe as shallowly as possible and cautiously pad closer to one of the mounds. Carrion birds scatter at your approach and loudly scold you for interrupting their meal.

You finally see what you could not from afar. The hills are piles of bodies, bones bleached from exposure to the elements except for bits of flesh on which the birds were feasting. A scrap of clothing near the bottom, fluttering like a pitiful flag, catches your eye. You carefully tug it free, flinching when a bone snaps.

You drop the cloth to the ground to peer down at it. Smudged by smoke, the symbol on the fabric is at first hard to make out, but when you do, you jerk away from the cloth. A tattered royal dragon stares back at you, tragically noble in its ruin.

From behind you comes a voice your nightmares know too well. “Do you see now, my child? This is what awaits those who defy me. It is hopeless.”

You spin around, lips pulled back in a warning growl. Lamia stands a few paces away, watching. She is as cruelly beautiful as before. A dress of intricate black lace only emphasizes her deathly paleness. The edges of her form swirl and flicker like smoke in the wind. Just as she looked when she appeared in the palace.

This is a dream, you realize. Somehow, she has invaded the sanctity of your mind. She is toying with you, this demon. Wrath boils in your chest, fed by your hatred of the creature in front of you.

Nonplussed, Lamia smiles and folds her arms under her bosom. “I see you have mastered your powers since last we met. It will do you no good.”

You growl again and spring at her. Your attack forces her out of range, a satisfying flash of surprise crossing her face. Shifting back to human, you reply, “I have learned much, Lamia. Enough to know you and your kind must be stopped at the whatever cost. We will do so if each of us must lay down our lives, but you will be defeated.”

Lamia’s smile deepens, her tone condescending. “You believe just because you captured a series of pawns, your victory is guaranteed? You are nothing. You know nothing. You have fought my vanguards, but they were weak, meant to test the weres. The only thing you proved was that I needed stronger soldiers. Now, I have them. My forces will emerge from the earth and cover this land in my darkness. You and the other beasts will finally be swept away like fallen leaves in the wake of my glory.”

As you stare back into her haughty gaze, you catch a glimpse of something your animal side immediately identifies. At first, you think it is impossible, that you are mistaken, but then you sense it again. Fear. You suddenly understand her game.

Returning her smile, you ask, “If you are so certain of our defeat, why show me this? Why try to sow seeds of doubt and despair if you do not fear our alliance? You, Lamia, most ancient queen of night rats, are afraid.”

If her heart still pumped, it would thrust all of her blood to her face in fury. “How dare you!” she screeches, losing her composure. “You will pay for your impertinence.”

“I am sure I will,” you shrug, “but not before I see you beheaded, staked, and burned until your ashes are insignificant particles. You will pay for everything you took from me and all the pain you’ve inflicted on my friends.”

“Do not think you can beat me. Do you believe removing the king beyond my reach is a coup?” Lamia sneers. Moving in a blur, she is abruptly in front of you, her fingers gripping your chin. The tips of her nails stab into your cheeks. She leans close, her fangs are a breath from your lips. She smells like a corpse. “He is like any other human: disposable. I do not know what you and the other half-breeds are planning but it will not succeed. This kingdom was promised to me long before your ancestors’ ancestors were born, and it will be mine, even if I have to raze this city to the ground.”

Your smile hardens, and you rashly provoke her further. “Oh, Lamia, for all your years, you obviously do not understand humans at all.”

“What do you mean?” she hisses. Her grip tightens.

“Above all else, humans hold our freedom most high and our love for each other most dear. Threaten both, and we will fight with such ferocity and tenacity, more than you ever imagined in your worst nightmares,” you answer proudly. You let your arms fall to your sides.

“I do not sleep,” Lamia whispers. “I have no nightmares. I only create them.”

“Then I think it is time for this one to end.”

Reaching your hand across your hip, you rip your dagger from its sheath and slash. Lamia’s hand that held your face drops to the ground. Lamia falters back, howling in a rage that wrings her features into horrid ugliness. Her fangs grow longer, her eyes redder. She launches herself at you as you shift to meet her again.

Pain tearing across your throat and Yongguk’s roar jerks you upright. The slippery silk crushed between your fingers reminds you where you are as you open your eyes. A hint of dampness and blood hang on the air, blown in by the frigid wind that snuck through the cracked window. It was closed when you went to bed.

Yongguk stands on all fours with claws extended and a loud warning growl still rumbling from his mouth. His head frantically swings back and forth to find the danger, muscles tensed to strike and the fur along his back standing on end.

You slide to the edge of the bed with the blanket still clutched in your hands and heart still hammering in your chest. “Yongguk.”

He turns so quickly, the wood beneath his claws squeals. Some of the tautness leaves his body at the sight of you, but the franticness remains in his eyes. Yongguk’s head rams into your chest as his nose passes over your skin, searching.

“I am alright, Yongguk,” you murmur. You sink your fingers into his mane, both for his comfort and your own. The bravado you presented Lamia was not as complete as you thought.

Human hands clutch at your shoulders as he shifts and kneels in front of you. Stony faced, Yongguk pushes your chin up. You flinch as his fingers graze over five long scratches along your throat.  

“What happened?” Yongguk asks. One hand comes to your cheek, only to pause again. He presses a spot and you jerk your head back at the sudden burst of pain. “How-”

“Lamia was in my dream,” you state simply. Reluctantly, you let Yongguk ease your face this way and that to examine Lamia’s marks. “She showed me the Capitol destroyed, our army reduced to rotting piles of bones. She knows we took the king. She wanted to frighten me. Us.”

“She succeeded in that,” he says quietly before catching you up in his arms. A shudder runs through his body. “I heard someone scream and I thought it was you, but then I woke up and smelled vampire.”

You grip him just as tightly. “It may have been her screaming. I cut off her hand.”

Despite himself, Yongguk laughs. “Only you, Ness.”

“I did not like her touching me.”

The seriousness returns to his face as he pulls back and eyes your throat again. “Nor do I. It cannot happen again.”

“What’s wrong?” Himchan pants as the other lions spill into the room behind him in various states of undress.

Their eyes scan the room for danger with the same intensity Yongguk did. Jongup moves to close the window with dagger in hand, but not before giving the garden beyond a thorough look over. You feel some relief that their sleep was obviously not ambushed in the same way.

“You are unharmed?” Daehyun asks, glancing between you. He too obtained a knife at some point.

Youngjae immediately spots the raised scratches on your skin with alarm. “Ness!” He rushes over, and Yongguk moves aside so he can better examine your neck.

Yongguk stands to face the others. The only word he says is “Lamia.”

They erupt into questions, but Yongguk is looking past them all. Your ears pick up more people running towards your room. The other weres from their scent, no doubt summoned by Yongguk’s roar. However, they are not what Yongguk is focusing on. You glimpse the maid who showed you to the room cowering by the doorway.

Yongguk steps around Junhong and says to her, “Tell Her Highness we need to meet with her. Now.”

 Newborn sunlight coming through the windows is too feeble to illuminate the modest room a servant ushers you into not even an hour later, but someone has already lit the large chandelier and the great hearth at the far end. An enormous round table stands in the center of the stone floor, bare. Three servants are busy erecting another, longer one beside the fireplace.

Hyosung looks no worse for the early hour as she turns her head towards you at your entry. As you approach, you can barely discern the light purple below her eyes that is skillfully covered by powder. She stands from the tall-backed chair and accepts your bows with a nod of her head.

“I take it the enemy has discovered all is not as she left it,” Hyosung says as you all rise.

Yongguk nods. “Lamia appears to have powers we were not aware of. She invaded Ness’ dreams with the intention of delivering a message of utter annihilation should we resist, that is my conclusion. She is aware the king has been deposed. Aside from this, she appears blind to our actions.”

“The king trusted no one to spy for him on her behalf that I have found. We must pray our luck holds in that, but one should never underestimate an enemy.” Hyosung indulges in a small sigh. She gestures to the table. “I was going to call the council at a more reasonable hour as some members arrived late last night, but when I awoke to a lion’s roar, I knew we did not have that luxury. We will have to repeat much of what we told the State Council, but then we will begin to plan our defense. They should be arriving soon.”

As if summoned, a servant announces Lady Kim just before she sweeps through the door. Not a hair or fold dares be out of place. She bows as well and, with a glance at you all, says, “Your Highness, I do not think there is a person in the city who did not jolt awake in alarm at that thunderous roar this morning. They will not tarry.”

True to Lady Kim’s words, the room steadily fills with people after her entrance. Servants circulate the room with food and tea, but you can only nibble as you observe the newcomers from your corner with the other weres; a pair of priestesses and a priest with jade robes and the gold lily pendant of the Goddess, a dozen charcoal-clad scholars, their fingers stained black and scored with thin cuts, a small man wearing the ruby robes and signet ring of a governor speaks quietly with Lady Kim.

The last to arrive are four men and women whose rigid shoulders and proud gazes trumpet their profession. Even if they did not wear plated armor over their clothes, you would recognize them as soldiers. The oldest man, his black beard trimmed short and speckled with salt, face weathered by time, wears the black tunic of a general. He takes in the room as if surveying troops, his gaze settling on your cluster, the only ones obviously out of place despite your new clothes. His hand readjusts his grip on his sword pommel, but he says nothing.

The princess gives everyone a few more moments to settle before standing. A hush instantly falls over the room.

“Greetings, esteemed advisors and custodians of the realm,” she says. “Thank you for coming so promptly.”

The governor does not waste time with niceties, stepping forward to say, “Your message said we must address a fast-approaching threat on the city. Our spies have reported no movements beyond our borders, and certainly we would have refugees flooding into the city should our enemies have invaded.”

“You are correct, Governor Yoo,” Hyosung acknowledges. “I apologize for such an ambiguous message, but I did not want the true peril we face to be read by eyes other than yours and spread panic among the people. Because, ladies and gentlemen, the threat does not come from any of our neighbors. It comes from an enemy long thought to be vanquished, one none dreamed we would have to face again: vampires.”

Everyone instantly begins murmuring among themselves, but one scholar raises his hand. “Your Highness, with all due respect, vampires were eliminated thousands of years ago by the weres. Any trace of the method to create them was also destroyed by Queen Myeongseong. The High Priestess would have detected such a release of black magic should someone have attempted similar magic.” He glances towards one of the priestesses, who nods.

“You are correct, Master Scholar, but these vampires have not reemerged by magic. One of the original vampires survived and has now chosen to come forth. She claims to be their creator’s consort, Lamia.”

Some of the scholars exchange shocked glances, but now one of the officers calls out, “Where is the king? If all this is true, why is he not delivering such news himself?”

Lady Kim saves the princess from replying. “Because the king was in collusion with the vampires. This Lamia stole his mind and turned him against his own people, who he agreed to sell into their doom for the promise of eternal rule. Princess Hyosung came before the State Council and presented evidence and testimony to prove so beyond a doubt. The king did not aid himself when both he and a follower attempted to murder the princess and myself. We of State Council approved his dethronement and the princess’ appointment as temporary regent. The king will receive a public trial to pay for his treason, but only if we live past tomorrow.”

“Whose testimony?” another officer asked.

“Ours.” Yongguk strides forward. He spreads his hands to include the rest of you behind him. “The king kidnapped, tortured, and forced us to become soldiers to fight the vampires because we are descendants of the weres and inherited their abilities. We are witnesses to both the king’s treachery and the return of the vampires.”

Despite having undergone the same examination yesterday, the sudden scrutiny still makes your skin crawl.

“Weres.” Everyone looks to the general. His sharp eyes are discerning and not entirely convinced. “The scourge of the blood demons whose powers died with the vampires. Such a reappearance of warriors of old would support these claims. If they truly are weres.”

Hot impatience rushes through your head. To have your validity continually questioned is wasting precious time. Evil is coming, whether these people would have it or not.

“There is no time to dance through polite words to convince you,” you burst out. Before Yongguk or Hyosung can speak, you push forward and point at your neck. “Lamia herself gave me these only a few hours ago by slipping into my dreams. If that is not enough, will you believe an even more physical example?

The officers’ hands fly to their swords as you stride towards the general. When you are only a few steps away, you shift, halting just before him with a growl.

The general does not flinch, meeting you eye for eye, but one officer starts to draw his weapon.

“Swords away, soldier,” Lady Kim says, rendering it melded to its scabbard. “She will not harm General Choi.”

You do not look away from the man in front of you. The room is deathly silent as you examine each other. As quickly as it rose, your temper fades away, leaving only your resolve. Even if you must transform a hundred times, they will believe you.

The man’s gaze slowly changes from suspicion to the beginnings of respect. Just Lady Kim did, he lifts his hand and waits.

“It’s an illusion,” a scholar says, but the waver in her voice renders her statement a question.

Lady Kim retorts, “No one in this room is capable of illusion casting.”

You angle yourself, so the general can reach up to touch your shoulder. His hand rests there lightly, then tentatively strokes your fur. The feeling isn’t unpleasant, and you allow your muscles to ease a little.

“You are no illusion,” he whispers. To your surprise, a small smile appears on his mouth. “My grandfather told me stories of the weres, their strength and magnificence. The tales do not even come close, Mistress Were.”

When the general lowers his hand, you shift back and reply, “It is simply Ness, sir.”

“Does anyone need more proof of our situation?” the princess asks.

Several people shake their heads while others answer with their silence as you rejoin the weres.

“Good. Then we may begin after brief introductions.”

At her gesture, a servant runs to the main table and with the help of another, unfolds a large map of the Capitol and the territory surrounding it. Hyosung begins listing names and titles, but you are only half listening. You lean over the table, attention on the map.

The walls of the Capitol are thick and tall, well designed to repel an assailing army with cannon and siege towers. If the supplies were there, the city could long outwait an enemy before being relieved by reinforcements. But you do not doubt a vampire could scale the towering stones with ease and then months of provisions would be useless.

The lands immediately outside are flat like your dream, plains that stretch to the horizon of the mountains. There are no trees or rock formations to provide shadows for vampires to use. Soldiers will also be accustomed to fighting on this kind of terrain. But they are also used to foes like them, humans with normal reflexes armed only with sword, arrow, and pike.

The princess’ voice breaks through your examination. “General Choi, how many soldiers do we have available?”

The general is also inspecting the map with a guarded face. His officers look equally grim. He glances up at Hyosung. “With no time to gather our usual conscripts or summon the navy, we must rely on our capitol division. They consist of cavalry, archers, and foot soldiers, but, Your Highness, they number no more than 7,000 at the most. Do we know the size of the vampires’ force?”

Junmyeon edges to the side of the table. “May I, princess?” At her nod, he answers, “Before this, vampires never traveled in clans more than three or four if not alone. Then they increased to clans of ten to fifteen, but my men and I were attacked by a clan of fifty or so a few days ago. I do not believe Lamia would send out her entire force on eleven weres, but I cannot estimate how many vampires she has created. The first only appeared five years ago, but she may have begun long before that.”

“We could attempt scrying for them to estimate their number,” a scholar suggests.

“Vampires are immune to all magic but elemental,” Yongguk replies with a shake of his head. “That is most likely why your seers were not aware of their existence in the first place. Lamia views humans as weak, easily conquered. She will have a considerable force but it will be much less than the Capitol’s troops. If we fight wisely, we do have a chance of winning, or having such an end as to be worthy of remembering. I do have some ideas.”

A younger officer stifles a snort, but clears his throat when his action is noticed. The respect in his voice is veneer thin as his says, “Battles are different than skirmishes, sir. They are not fought in the same way, they cannot be won in the same way.”

“And what do you know of fighting vampires?” General Choi cuts in. His voice is soft, but the reprimand loses no sharpness. “When entering a battle with uneven odds, one must utilize every resource they have. The lives of every inhabitant of this city, this kingdom, depend on us doing so. Pride is a terrible thing to sacrifice one’s family for.”

The officer shrinks back, mumbling an apology.

“Now that that foolishness is done,” General Choi returns his gaze to Yongguk, “what are these plans of yours, Master Were?”

 The meeting lasts well into the night, and everyone leaves with somber faces, but firm resolution to fulfil their assigned parts. Although your survival is by no means sure, the plans that have been set in motion are enough to allow you a deep, unbroken sleep. You only allow yourself a few hours.

For the sake of the kingdom, you cannot squander even a second of the single day you have to give the soldiers and bears what training you can. If you had a week to prepare, it would not be enough, but one lesson could be the difference between seeing the dawn and be buried by it.

The lions and wolves divide themselves, the majority going to the field to instruct the soldiers. You stay behind with Sehun, Himchan, and Kyungsoo to concentrate on the bears. A great deal of your plans rest on their competence.  

Throughout the morning and afternoon, the sounds of hundreds of anvils being struck and the shouts of workmen dragging wood to the front lines carries over the palaces walls to the large training enclosure where you work, sweat dripping off your face and onto the dusty clay. Three bears circle you warily, dulled stakes in hand.

“Do not wait for the vampire to move first,” you remind them, keeping your eyes on Hoseok and Yoonho, and your ears listening for Minkyun. “They are accustomed to their prey running. Attacking first throws them off balance.”

Hoseok feints towards his left and lunges with stake raised. You spin out of reach, but Minkyun dodges around his friend to attack your right, Yoonho running at you from your other side.

You drop to the ground and roll. As they try to follow, you trip Yoonho and dart a chalk-marked finger across the side of his neck. Springing up, you leap up onto Minkyun’s back, knock the stake from his hands, and slash a finger over his throat. “Both dead.”

The crunch of dirt warns you Hoseok is coming from behind, but he hesitates to strike at your back. It gives you enough time to kick him in the chest. Pushing off Minkyun’s back, you land crouched with your feet on either side of Hoseok’s chest.

“Dead,” you pronounce. You step off and lend him a hand before chastising him. “If you get the chance to stake a vampire, do it no matter what. They have no honor therefore they deserve none. It is kill or be killed, gentleman.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they say together. Though they wear similar discouraged looks, they still dust themselves off and retrieve their stakes.

“Again.”

This time, they do not dither. You block Yoonho and Hoseok’s jabs and strikes, but they use their strength to push you backwards. Your feet slide until you dance backwards and away.

A large paw suddenly swipes your feet from under you. Another hinders your rolling away. Before you can turn the other direction, it turns to human and Minkyun’s stake stops just above your heart. When you breathe in, the wood presses against your skin.

You couldn’t be more elated.

“Excellent.” You beam up at him, glad when he returns it and helps you up. “Very good. You see? You may not be as fast, but you are strong and capable of being just as cunning. Well done, Minkyun. Let’s go again.”

 When your shadows stretch to touch the eastern wall, you retire to your rooms as agreed. As dire as training is, with dusk fast approaching, you all need rested bodies with a few hours of sleep and replenishment. Yongguk is already in the room, dressed in a long shirt, sitting on the bed and watching the door.

He gives you a weary smile. A few dirt smudges stain his forehead. “How are the bears?”

“They will hold their lines,” you reply confidently. You step behind the screen to shed your clothes and gratefully scrub the water in the basin over your face and body. “They are intelligent and as much born hunters as us. Their bear forms are slower, but they compensate with their strength. A blow from their paws will do far more damage than ours. The soldiers?”

“There are too many of them and too few of us,” he sighs. “We did the best we could, but we must hope their protections serve them well rather than their skill. A servant brought the clothes from the princess, by the way.”

Peeking around the screen, you spot the inconspicuous package wrapped in plain white cloth. Your heart thumps hard, but you keep your voice steady. “Good.”

“I am still uneasy about this part of the plan.” Yongguk admits as you pull a loose sleeping shirt and come out from the screen with a damp cloth. “I do not want to think of what Lamia will do if she discovers she was fooled.”

“She will have to deal with me, that is what she will do.” Stepping between his knees, you gently wipe away at the smudges he missed.

He submits without complaint, his hands resting on your hips, fingers lightly kneading. The little wrinkle between his eyes stays in place even after you try to kiss it away. You continue wiping, knowing there is more to his worrying.

When you toss the towel, Yongguk sighs again and gathers you close, burying his face in your stomach. “You speak like you are fearless. I wish I possessed half the hope you do. There is so much at stake if we fail that I cannot help doubting,” he admits, voice heavy with its burden of uncertainty. “The impossible happens, but I fear it will not this time.”

You run your fingers through his hair, heart aching for him. “I am not as bright as I seem. I too am afraid of what will happen if we lose tonight, but we cannot think of the consequences. We must trust ourselves and believe we will win because  we must.”

“Do you know what I fear the most?”

“What?”

“I fear losing you more than the entire kingdom.” Yongguk lifts his head to look into your eyes. Love battles with a loss he is already imagining. “Ness, I would rather die-”

Hurriedly, you press your hand to his mouth. Your nerves are already raw with this waiting on the edge of the storm, no matter how well you’ve hidden it. “Do not talk of death. Not now. We are both alive now, both still loving each other with all our hearts, as we always will.”

Yongguk leans his cheek into your hand as you trace his jaw. A days’ worth of stubble itches your palm. Despite shaving before the dinner with his parents, the following two days have left it unattended. The shadows on his cheeks and chin echo the darkness under his eyes you wish you could simply kiss away.

His arms around your back suddenly tighten so your knees buckle and fall into his lap.

“Yongguk.”

He does not answer, only resting his cheek against your neck, his chin tucked on your shoulder. He is already sinking into the darker parts of his mind. The voices there will grant him no sleep, something he vitally needs to stay with you in the world of the living.

Determined to drag him back as you have before, you give him something else physical to focus on. You trail your fingers from his jaw into his hair, gently combing the long, inky strands. Casually, you comment, “I think I may like this.”

“This?” he asks.

Sliding your fingers further back, you massage his scalp. “This. It reminds me of your mane, thick and beautiful. It’s longer than you usually keep it.”

The slow pull and press of your fingers draws a low, rumbling purr from Yongguk’s mouth. “I will grow it as long as you please,” he groans, “as long as you do not stop.”

You hum in amusement and relief at your success. “This length is fine, and I will not stop yet, but first.”

With gentle hands, you push him back onto the bed. You ease yourself onto his chest, so warm and beginning to slow in its rise and fall. A smile curves your lips. For such a complex man, it is incredible how such a simple action relieves his burdens.

Yongguk’s eyes flutter shut, but your fingers continue moving. Although you should sleep as well, you cannot. Not just yet. You must soak in every nuance of his face, his body pressed beneath yours. As much as he fears your death, you fear his even more. Yongguk is your world. Without him, you have no future even if you live.

But you cannot let the fear win. You will remember him to bolster your courage should it waver. You will keep yourself alive for him, as he will for you. When he wakes up, you will make him promise so.

As his breathing slows further, you carefully withdraw your fingers, intending to lay them over his heart to feel its reassuring beat. But your hands slide no further than his shoulders when Yongguk’s fly up to catch your wrists.

His eyes are open, alert but heavy with something very different from sleep. Your heart thumps hard once, then races.

Eyes on yours, Yongguk raises your hands to his mouth and lays a languid kiss on each open palm, then your wrists. You shiver shamelessly, warmth flooding your stomach in a second.

He wraps a hand around the back of your neck. Yongguk’s voice is deeper as he softly says, “If I do die tonight, I want to walk into the Goddess’ arms with your taste on my lips.”

Heart fluttering, you can only murmur your agreement because his mouth is on yours.

One hand folds itself in your hair, the other tracing your side down to the small of your back. He molds you against him, stoking your need for him with each prolonged skim of his hand. You drown in his lips, quickening your kisses in your search for his air. But Yongguk tightens his fingers in your hair and keeps his mouth slow to demand every breath you have.

Your skin rises with the heat of his kisses until the silk clothing you wear burns uncomfortably. Thin as it is, it is an unbearable barrier keeping your body from Yongguk’s. You need his skin against yours. You need him.

Your body sags in a sigh when you feel him tug on the bottom of your dress. It flies off your body and his shirt joins it. Then Yongguk’s hands are back. Yet when you try to recapture his mouth, he pushes on your hip so you fall on your back. He follows and his lips begin to caress the delicate curve where your neck meets your shoulder. Your whine drops into a moan as he mouths along your shoulder, tongue soothing the abrasive scrape of his stubble.

You whisper his name and tug on his shoulders. You want his lips on yours, but again he evades you. Instead, Yongguk explores your body with his kisses, discovering every sensitive area to make you tremble. Your earlobe. The bottom of your jaw. The underside of your breasts. The curve of your hip. Your back arches with need as you squirm, until his hair brushes the inside of your thighs. He pushes your legs apart and settles himself between them. Still, he tantalizes without satisfying by delivering light nips and long kisses along the thin skin and not near your throbbing heat. The sight of him between your legs, all golden skin and muscle in the evening light, only increases your breathing’s speed and your need.

Yongguk finally raises his head from your legs and kisses his way back up to rest his chin on your stomach. The adoration in his eyes steals what breath you still possess. “The more I look at you,” he whispers, “the more stunning you become, my lioness.”

You gulp back the tears that suddenly swell and close off your throat. How you ever deserved the blessing of being loved so, you will never know. But you smile for Yongguk and reply, “I love you, too.”

He gazes at you a few moments more, undoubtedly memorizing your face as you did his earlier. Then, as he crawls up to claim your kiss again, he guides himself into your warmth, one hand on your hip. All at once, your need slams into your body again, nerves electrified anew.

Yongguk swallows your shaky exhale as he waits for you to adjust, amusing himself with more kisses that take and take. You cannot remember if he felt the same those unforgettable hours in the dugout. Now, the mere sensation of him filling you has you quivering beneath him.

Slowly, you raise your hips to meet his. Yongguk groans and bites your lip, jutting his hips forward. Again, your back arches, pulling him deeper. Desire surges through your veins, but you cannot let yourself fall yet. Every second of your joining must be cherished and carefully stowed in your heart.

“Love me, Yongguk,” you frantically murmur, opening your eyes to look in his face. Your arms fall from his hair to wrap around his shoulders, your legs locking around his hips. You cannot be close enough.

Softly, Yongguk kisses your cheek, then presses a gossamer kiss to your lips. “Always.”

When his mouth descends for a devouring kiss, you let yourself become lost in the sensations, in all that is Yongguk.

In defiance of the urgency that has been nipping at your heels, you slip into a place where time does not exist. It is only you and Yongguk. His hands pushing your hips onto his slow, well timed rolls that have your breaths hitching. Your lingering fingers that leave goosebumps across his chest in their wake. The deliberate kisses that claim your breath and souls.

The waves of pleasure build and build until they push you to the precipice. You cling to the edge, unwilling to surrender unless Yongguk goes with you. The growing unevenness of his rhythm tell you he is just as close. Finally, with a groan of your name and a wild thrust, you feel Yongguk’s release, a sudden heat filling you. His climax elicits your own and all the world fades in the face of your delicious completion.

Your sweat covered bodies stick to each other as Yongguk sprawls over you, but you do not move. You cannot move, still caught in the haze of satisfaction and intimacy.

With a grunt, Yongguk rolls to the side, pulling you with him until your positions are reversed. A deeper pleasure than before warms every part of your body, emanating from your heart. If ever there was a place you wanted to be forever, it is surrounded by Yongguk’s arms with his heartbeat in your ear. You nestle closer. Yongguk’s lips brush your temple, his sigh tickling your hair.

Neither of you speak. You have said all you needed and wanted to without words. You can feel the love embedded in your very bones. Now, it is time to let the drowsiness coax you to sleep while you can.

Soon, your world will be forever changed. You can only pray you are both alive to see it.

Previous Part 

Kingdom Map, The Keep Map, Weres scale , Were Guide

[kheprrison-arts]

Mianite- Perfect (Chapter three)

Fandom: Mianite

Chapters: 3/?

Summary: A life-long experiment between two unlikely partners finally comes to completion.

A/N: I really like this chapter because it’s all about Death (The Shadows) and shows the relationship he has with Botan. And I love it because he’s such a housewife.

Its been a few days. Nothing much happened. Botan hasn’t even found this Riaxahl guy yet, which was a big of a surprise to Death since it usually only takes an hour or so.

The shadowed man walk up to the front door of the research facility, about to grab the keys to open it until he looked up and saw that the door is already unlocked… and completely open wide.

Now Death may be a drama queen sometimes but he has a true reason to fear why the door was open like this. One of these reasons happens to be that one of the subjects could’ve gotten out, specifically the subject who happens to reside in the basement. This subject is known as 01 and is the most intelligent of the others. 01 is a test specimen created by Botan many, many years ago when him and Death first started. He’s infected with that disease that Botan’s been breeding for ages and hasn’t been exterminated because Botan actually feels attached to the thing. Which is surprising.

01 isn’t only be the most intelligent but also the strongest. Besides, after all these years who knew what the thing looked like or what it could do. If 01 got out then it’s essentially the end to all humanity.

Death sucked it in, breathing deeply for a few seconds before walking in and shutting the front door behind him. He quickly made his way down the main hallway, his shadowy cloak brushing against the metal floors. His footsteps gave out an eerie silence, he never really made any noise.

He stopped in front of Botan’s office, it’s way too early for the older man to be working at this hour since he always made sure to come to the lab late so he could sleep in unlike his younger partner. Botan always left earlier than Death and always came back later. It’s just how it was.

Death slowly opened the door to Botan’s office. He choked on the stuffy air when he saw the older man at his desk, his head down on the wood, utterly passed out from what Death assumed to be exhaustion. He saw bits of drool drop from the edge of the desk.

Death sighed. Botan must’ve fallen asleep in the middle of writing notes last night. How did he not notice the weirdo hadn’t actually left his own office?

He shook his head, deciding to leave his partner alone, and walked out of his office to go to his own just down the hall. He gagged when he had to step over 301’s rotting corpse. Death wondered what Botan did with the bodies of exterminated subjects after leaving them out for so long. That oughtta be a question for Botan when he wakes up.

Death didn’t really have experiments going on, nothing too important. He had called off most of them to be held back until his partner found Riaxahl which seems to be a lot harder than usual. This man truly doesn’t want to be found by anyone if Botan can’t even find him.

He checked one of his computer monitors, seeing if he got any messages from any clients of his. Him and Botan work as surgeons in secrecy, you’d have to know someone who knows someone who knows someone to know about it. This is mainly just an extra thing the two do to get more familiar with anatomy and whatnot, but that’s not entirely true. The surgeries that Botan does is just a lame excuse for him to capture more test subjects without them actually knowing.

Death shook his head and sighed, he knew Botan was weird and all but the guy is a complete sadist. Botan would do almost anything to cause harm on people whether it’s be just finding them in alleys or just on his own test subjects. Really the only people he doesn’t seem to want to harm is either himself, 01, or Death… which is odd. At least he’s number three on whatever lists Botan has.

When Death couldn’t find any messages or notifications on his monitor, he decided to just look up some stuff that might help in the future. What’s been on his head for the past few days was Riaxahl, he needed this man for their experiment. He was the only person who had exactly what they needed, and even if he had a few gene mutations that weren’t helpful then they can just breed those out. Simple really.

Death frowned, his eyes glued to the monitor. For a while he was looking at garbled nonsense about Riaxahl. The entire text is in Russian, making the shadowed man wish he knew the language. Too bad Botan hasn’t stopped by yet to see if he could read it, he’s probably too busy. So for the time being Death bookmarked the page and turned off his monitor. He might as well do something useful for once.

He stood and went into the closet on the other side of his office. The closet is mainly for paperwork storage yet Death liked to clean and dust, it’s just what he does. In fact that’s why the two live together, Botan being too lazy to really clean his house has Death around to do it for him. He doesn’t mind the work.

He took out his a bucket full of his cleaning supplies and immediately walked over to where 301 lay in the hallway. He set the supplies down and hesitantly grabbed 301 and slung him over his shoulder. He carried the dead subject over to his original cell just on the other side of Botan’s office. He didn’t know why his partner didn’t mind his office being right next to one of his mutating subjects, but he guessed it was because he wanted to keep an ear out for him.

He placed 301 onto the cell floor and walked all the way back to where he was exterminated and began his scrubbing of the floor. For rotting in the past few days the blood had already dried on the metal but Death knew within a few hours the blood would be scraped off. He doesn’t mind the work.

Death had put away his cleaning supplies after a few hours of relentless scrubbing. This would have to continue tomorrow, he thought to himself while he walked back over to Botan’s office. It was usually the time his partner would leave and go home, so Death was a bit worried when he hadn’t even heard from him. In fact it’s already 10:20, the usual time Death goes home which means Botan should’ve left almost an hour ago.

He opened the door to Botan’s office, making sure to be quiet in case he was up and working again. He groaned in an exaggerated manner, like when a child is told to do tedious chores instead of palming games, because Botan was still out cold on his desk.

Death trudged over to his partner and placed a shadowed hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. “Botan get up,” he said, still shaking him. “Dude,” he sighed. “Get up.”

After a while of attempting to get his partner up, Death was starting to get a little worried. “Botan?” He asked, leaning closer to his friend’s face seeing if he could hear him breathing. “Botan.”

He furrowed his brows, letting his hand fall from his partner’s shoulder. He stood there thinking of what usually got his partner up and running. Death snorted and quickly threw his hand over Botan’s head, smacking the back of his skull.

Suddenly Botan shot up with a snort, nearly giving Death a heart attack. “Wha…” he squinted and rubbed one of his eyes with his fist with a yawn. “What the hell?” He turned to Death, “what’re you doing here? I thought you left a couple minutes ago.”

“A couple– ” death shook his head– “n-no, Botan, I left early last night. You’ve been asleep all day. You never left the building.”

“Whaaat?” Botan chuckled groggily, “no way.”

“Are you okay?” Death asked, scanning his older partner.

“The real question is… are you okay?” He giggled, poking Death’s shoulder.

“Okay,” Death muttered to himself, slowly scanning Botan’s desk for anything unusual. He let out an exasperated sigh, the white outlines of his face shifting a bit, when he saw the bottle of chloroform. He knew Botan is impervious to most drugs but he didn’t actually think Botan would use chloroform anytime soon. In fact he didn’t realize the substance would give the older man a high similar to using everyday drugs. “Dammit, you’re going home,” he growled and helped Botan up and out of his chair. Death slung an arm under his partner’s and essentially dragged the weirdo out of the building, closing and locking the from doors (of course with great difficulty).

He dragged his drugged friend over to his truck, a midnight black 4Runner, and got him in the front passenger seat. As long as he could keep an eye on the paler man he didn’t care where he sat. He buckled his friend who had literally passed out halfway through the trek to the truck (even if it wasn’t really that far from the building).

Death jumped in the driver’s seat, closing his door, and making sure all doors are locked in case Mr.Chloroform decides to wake up and open it in a drugged haze again. Though if Death were lucky the man would wake up sober as ever. He took his keys and started the truck, putting it in drive and hitting the gas, heading for their house. Death was always a bit skittish in a lot of things and driving happens to be one of them. He got over his irrational fear of driving (which if he is correct is called agoraphobia) a long time ago, yet sometimes he can still feel a trace of his old panic attacks rising. But as long as he doesn’t have to deal with traffic then he’s fine. He usually lets Botan deal with any traffic.

The drive to the house they lived at was bumping, it always was but it tends to make Death a bit carsick sometimes. In fact he’s a little disturbed that his partner hadn’t actually woken up from all the shaking and whatnot.

He finally parked in the driveway, putting it in park and turning off the truck, taking his keys. He looked over at his older partner, still out like a light, and groaned. He seriously didn’t want to deal with this.

He’s definitely not making breakfast in the morning.

[professordiggsy]

THE STORY OF THE GAME SO FAR...Ravnican Rumblings, Part 1.

(Commentary:  I figured I might as well put some of my own content on here, as opposed to knee-jerk reblogs and scrolling paralysis.  So here’s a breakdown of the 5E game I’ve been running for the last year, set in the world of Ravnica.  I’ve loved this as a M:tG setting for years, and to finally play in its sandbox has been delightful.  Seeing clever recaps from awesome internet folks such as @therobotmonster​ has also spurred me to outline our sessions in prose.  

(IF anyone from my actual game discovers this, SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT--BEWARE.)

Thank you, won’t we?

THE PLAYERS:

Oriana: Half-Demon (i.e. Tiefling) Sorcerer, performer in the Cult of Rakdos. Works hard, parties harder, lights things on fire whether they should be that way or not.  Makes friends easily.

Lurea: Half-Elf Rogue, espionage specialist for the Simic Combine. Prefers the path of least resistance. Chooses not to play well with others. Gets results.  Secretly an Operative for House Dimir, on a mission of revenge.

Lord Abernathy Hasterforth: Human Aristocrat, of the noble house of Hasterforth, now traveling abroad to seek his fortunes. Charismatic and influential, with a devil-may-care attitude and appreciation for a good chair. Will absolutely ask to speak to a manager.  Secretly a Dimir Rogue, playing the bumbling fop angle as a carefully crafted cover to take down the one percent.

Nex: Awakened Undead (homebrew) Necromancer (also homebrew), representing the Orzhov Syndicate. While his skeletal form is animated by dark magics, the machinations of his sharp mind are a more dangerous weapon still. Likes a good game of chess (though his left arm cheats).  Often subject to indignities beneath his station.

Lord Alric Shadowaxe : Human (secretly Aasimar) Cleric of the Church of Orzhova. Member of a prominent and wealthy family within the Syndicate. Speaks softly and carries a large warhammer. Stoic, shady, and a keen judge of character, but has lived a sheltered life of privilege to this point, so your mileage may vary.

Lunan Adfir (Chris): Half-elf Rogue, also of the Cult of Rakdos. Plays a mean squeezebox. Specializes in drinking, distraction and bodyguarding--though the body being alive is not a requirement.  Also secretly a Dimir Rogue, on a mission to regain his lost memories.  

Zofgil Turnuroth: A Viashino (aka Dragonborn for Ravnica) Wizard and member of the barbarian Gruul Clans. Wants to tear civilization a new one. Will often freeze things first and ask questions maybe.  Also a Dimir.....Wizard, sent to observe the Gruul and sow chaos to his master’s ends.

Caaki: A Cyclops (using modified Orc Half-Orc homebrew) Rogue whose puppet-show performances have earned him some renown in the Cult of Rakdos. Skilled with a dagger and shortbow, though his depth perception is an impediment. Enjoys quality literature.  Also a Dimir Rogue, because this is apparently a pattern.  

(NOTE: Yes, there are FIVE secret Dimir Operatives.  HOW?  Just lucky, I guess.  NONE of the players started the game knowing each other’s class/background choices, which makes for quality entertainment.)

Esvele Buckman: A Vedalken Cleric for the Selesnya Conclave. Not quite a people person, but a very shrewd observer and skilled student of nature. The most morally sound and well-adjusted of the group, by default.

 KRENKO’S WAY (part one):

Our adventurers are called to action: Nassius Ven meets the party at the gates to Sawtooth Prison.  The task?  Apprehend escaped convict Krenko, mob boss and goblin of interest.

·         “We have need of your particular skills to assist in the retrieval of a convict who got loose just before sunrise this morning. He escaped during his transfer to Udzec, a maximum-security prison where he would have spent the rest of his days.”

·         “His name is Krenko. He’s the boss of a large gang of goblins that operates around Foundry Street. He was apprehended to answer for a long list of crimes, including murder. He allegedly incited a riot that led to the deaths of a guard and two inmates at this prison a week ago. The warden decided enough was enough and put through his transfer.”

·         “Krenko has made a lot of enemies, but the Shattergang Brothers are his biggest threat. They’re a rival goblin gang specializing in illicit weapons, and they want Krenko dead in reprisal for the murder of one of their lieutenants. The dead lieutenant also happens to be the youngest of the three siblings that run the gang. They’ll tear apart the neighborhood to find him once they know he has escaped.”

·         “Normally, we’d let the Azorius deal with this situation, but we suspect that Krenko might have had help from one of the other guilds when he escaped. We are enlisting others to investigate that connection, as it could point to a bigger problem.”

·         “We need you to track down Krenko and bring him back alive. Then we can interrogate him and keep him off the streets for good.”

·         “I am prepared to give you ten zinos right now to cover any expenses you might incur during your investigation. Upon delivery of the criminal, you’ll receive one hundred zinos and my gratitude, which I will convey to your guild leaders. Under no circumstances should you attempt to question Krenko yourselves."

- Lord Abernathy successfully haggled the bounty up to 40 zinos at the start and 250 zinos upon delivery of Krenko--no further.

Unsuccessful leads considered:

- Guards in on it?  Allegedly questioned, trail gone cold

- Gideon Jura?  whereabouts unknown

- Mr. Taz?  no known information whatsoever

Further accounts of the prisoner transport ambush suggests the following: A skyswimmer intercepted and attacked Krenko's escort.  It unleashed a powerful discharge of lightning, which knocked out all the guards.  When they woke up, Krenko has disappeared.

Esvele was able to use her knowledge of naturally occurring life on Ravnica to identify that while a skyswimmer is an apex predator of the upper atmosphere--feeding on drakes, rocs (not rocks), griffons, etc., it would not travel so low to the streets on its own.  Skyswimmers are rarely tamed and magically modified to use as transport or flying siege mounts by the Simic Combine.

(NOTE: During Nassius’ briefing, the following psychic message appeared, unbidden, in the minds of the five Dimir agents:  “The scales must remain balanced...”

The party decided that Falish - artificer/merchant operating out of Tin Street--was the most promising lead, being the only of Krenko's associates with a last known location.  Her name was not a dick joke.

While traveling on foot, moving south from the area around Sunhome to Tin Street:

- Lurea attempted--unsuccessfully--to break away from the group to pursue her own agenda.  Her discreet exit was foiled twice, by Oriana (clueless, walking right into her) and Lunan (stealthily tailing her away from the rest of the party) respectively.

- Witnessed three Boros officers hauling in a Rakdos jester, attempting to hand out Rakdos carnival flyers without a proper permit--Lord Abe attempted to intervene on the scamp's behalf, but the flyers also had a tendency to burst into flame when read, so....no luck. (note: Rakdos troupe identities can be recognized by glyphs written in "red ink")

At the Outskirts of Tin Street:

- the party ordered goblin food from a street cart vendor named Gilber 

    - Alric got a case of nasty food poisoning (disadvantage on attack rolls and ability checks for 24 hours)--also revealing some mysterious golden eyes under his hood in the process (his eyes, not someone else's)

    - the rest that ate ( Lord A, Oriana, Lunan, Zofgil, Nex, and Caaki) have advantage on any Diplomacy (Charisma) checks with goblins for the next 24 hours

    - Nex tried to press Gilber for leads towards Falish, to no avail--given the warning not to draw attention to themselves in this part of town.

At Tin Street Proper:

- Turning off into a side street, the party stumbled upon a hapless performance troupe, the Maggotblood Brothers (4 goblins--3 acrobats/tumblers, 1 drummer) trying and failing miserably to draw a crowd.  Some of the party decided to help their chances--Lord A as a plant in the crowd, Lunan accompanying on squeezebox, and Oriana with some well-placed Thaumaturgy and colorful fire-dancing (which also made her temporarily grow 9 feet tall for some reason) helped to draw in some paying audience members for the troupe.  

- After the crowd dispersed, the party learned that the Brothers were not a recognized Rakdos troupe--they were trying to make a name for themselves, but had yet to find the right "Schtick" (they had no idea what that meant).  Like Gilber, when questioned about Falish, the Brothers were similarly evasive, but Oriana was able to persuade them to direct them towards Noggra's Remedies--a potion shop/dispensary nearby where further leads might be discovered.

- Back on Tin Street proper, Lord A., lost in thought, was nearly stepped on by a giant beetle--a deadbridge goliath, being steered by its Devkarin (dark elf) drover to pull a sledge of corpses off to a Golgari rot farm.  Some quick reflexes by Lunan--his newly appointed bodyguard--prevented the Lord from becoming another smear of paste and viscera on the sledge.

- The party visited Noggra's Remedies down the street.  The begoggled proprietor Noggra was initially resistant to help, though she was observant enough to identify the source of Alric's sickness (and assumed if he ate food from Gilber's cart, he must have lost a bet).  Through the combined efforts of purchasing 6 Healing Potions (20 zibs ea., 120 zibs total, 1 potion consumed immediately by Alric), Persuasion on the part of the Alric, Nex and Lord A., and a 10 zib bribe suggested by Alric, Noggra was convinced into directing them toward's Falish's workshop--hidden in an alley behind the Ultramarine Ursine restaurant.

 - Upon locating the alley, the party found a heavily padlocked, unmarked door--a thorough scan of the alley revealed no traps in the surrounding area.  However, careful inspection of the door by Zofgil and Esvele  revealed that it was enchanted with a Glyph of Warding--primed to release a Sleep spell if the lock was picked or the door was opened by force.   However, this was not the only possible point of access--a small window facing the street, where the workshop building adjoins the restaurant.  

- Caaki was able to help "fastball special" Oriana up on to the 40 foot high roof, where she was able to pull Lunan up on the roof to join her.  Lunan was able to pick the lock on the window, allowing them both access to the workshop. 

- Inside the workshop, Falish was visible sitting at her workbench, busy tinkering on something--facing away from the window.  Lunan slowly lowered himself to the floor, and was able to make it to the door....however, his failed attempt to pick the lock from the inside alerted her attention (despite Oriana's use of a well-placed Control Flame spell as a distraction).

- Assuming the intruders to be staging a poorly-planned break-in, Falish was wary at first--clearly taking hold of a threatening-looking flamethrower as she negotiated with Lunan and Oriana.  Seeing that she was at a disadvantage, with little means of a discreet escape, she allowed the rest of the party (save Alric and Lurea) into her workshop.

- Once the party's alleged intentions to help Krenko were clear, Falish explained her role as his contact for illegal/difficult-to-procure arms.  She was busy working on an order of weapons and explosives to help Krenko maintain hold over his territory and prevent power struggles from escalating further.  The arms drop was due to occur by the next sunset.

- With some input from the rest of the party, Nex was successfully able to negotiate with Falish to allow them to make the drop in her stead.   Being anxious to secure her own safety before Krenko's enemies retaliate, she agreed.  

- Falish asked the party to return in the morning to pick up the shipment and transport it to the drop point on Foundry Street (which, as far as she knows, is likely near Krenko's new hideout)---to do safely, they would have to travel through the sewers bordering the Undercity.  She directed them towards the Millstone tavern as a safe place to rest before their mission--the owner, Wyroon, would be their contact.  She gave the party a calling card to earn them safe lodging, and reminded them to return the next day.  The drop must be made before sunset--Krenko may be a lot of things, but ultimately, in this part of Ravnica, he keeps the scales in balance.