#Chess Clocks and Timers

[royalchessmallusa]

Find Your Perfect Storage Chess Box at Royal Chess Mall

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Protect Your Investment

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Conclusion

If you're on the quest to find the perfect storage chess box t, look no further than Royal Chess Mall. Explore their diverse collection and embark on a journey to elevate your chess game to new heights. Your perfect storage chess box awaits, promising not just practicality but a touch of sophistication for your beloved chess set. Visit Royal Chess Mall to explore a world where every move is made on a canvas of timeless elegance and unparalleled craftsmanship.

[royalchessmall12]

royalchessmall | eBay Stores

Royal Chess Mall is a Chess Shop with offices in USA, India ,UK . We make premium handcrafted chess equipment in exotic woods, bone, brass metal, marble etc shipped worldwide. Our sets are hand carved by our master artisans with over 40+ years of experience in wood working, turning and hand carving. Our work has won acclaim and highly reviewed by chess players and collectors in over 100 + countries and counting.

[todays-xkcd]

Sometimes, you have to sacrifice pieces to gain the advantage. Sometimes, to advance ... you have to fall back.

Arizona Chess [Explained]

Transcript

[White Hat and Cueball are sitting across from each other playing chess. The time, shown above them in white on a black screen, reads 6:35 for White Hat, and 0:28 for Cueball.] White Hat: It’s late, I’m up a pawn, and you’re out of time. It’s over. Cueball: Ah, you’re forgetting something.

[Cueball gestures with one hand above the chessboard. His time now reads 0:19.] Cueball: Did you know this building straddles the Arizona border? Cueball: It actually runs right through the table. You're on the Arizona side.

[Cueball raises his hand further to gesture at his time. It beeps and is now blank and white.] Cueball: This tournament started Saturday, November 2nd. Now it's almost 2AM on the 3rd. Cueball: And there's something you should know about Arizona. Chess clock: BEEP

[White Hat raises his head slightly to look at the timer. Cueball's time now reads 60:07. Cueball lowers his hand to make a move.] White Hat: What?! No! That's not how... No!! Cueball: Looks like it's daylight slaying time.

[bluecanvasshoe]

Obstacles

platonic!Marauders x muggleborn!hufflepuff!fem!reader

(image from: crimsoncloverhoney on Pinterest) Summary: You remake old memories with the Marauders and sparklers are, for once, used correctly in their vicinity.

warnings: not beta read... other than that, nothing, really!

content: fluff, takes place during their fifth year, hints of Wolfstar

word count: 2k

a/n: My first Harry Potter/Marauders fic!!!! wowie!!!! This one was fun to write, and I hope I didn't make everyone too out of character!

title from the song Obstacles by Syd Matters

---

It was evening, and dinner ended about an hour ago. You left the Hufflepuff barrel and joined the Marauders in the Gryffindor common room soon after changing out of your uniform.

“I’m telling you guys, Lily fancies me! She didn’t roll her eyes when she saw me, that’s progress!” James said, his hands moving frantically for emphasis as he sat straight on the sofa.

Sirius scoffed from where he was lying with his head leaning on Remus’ shoulder. “Oh yeah, what did she do, scowl instead? Tell you to leave her alone?” 

James faltered at that, falling back into the cushions behind him. 

“Maybe- maybe you’re right, James. Maybe she’s not as annoyed by you,” you interjected, looking up from the game of wizard’s chess you were playing with Peter. The two of you sat opposite of each other, sitting in front of the fireplace.

He perked up at that, extending a hand in your direction. “See!? She agrees with me! And she’s a girl! She’d know more about Lily than I would!”

Sirius hummed, “She’s a Hufflepuff; that’s the people-pleaser house.”

“I mean it,” you insisted, watching as your opponent contemplated his move.

Peter glanced at James after he clicked his button on the timer, his head resting on one of his hands. “Prongs, you sound a bit loony right now.” 

“Loony!?” James shrieked, mouth wide open and glasses catching the light of the fire. Peter simply shrugged, looking back to the game once you’d made a move.

“Please, everyone, stop shouting…” Remus groaned, eyeing everyone with exasperation. “I’m trying to read this book, and it’s very hard to follow when you’re all bickering like first years.”

You sat up, looking over to Remus. “What book are you reading?”

“The Idiot.”

You nodded, humming. “What part are you at?”

He marked the page before closing the paperback book and setting it aside. “The part when Kolya reads the newspaper to the Prince, the nihilists, and… the others in the room. At the dacha, I think?”

With a grimace, you looked back to the game of chess. “Yeah, that part’s odd. I was so confused when-" 

"God, you swots.” Sirius interrupted, lolling his head back onto Remus’ shoulder. “I’m so bored.” He whined with a dramatic frown, kicking his legs petulantly.

“Well, what do you suggest we do?” The boy Sirius had leaned his weight on asked, watching the game of wizard’s chess in front of them. 

Sirius grinned, sitting up and crossing his legs in his lap. “Well, I found sparklers-” “We are not doing a prank right now.” Remus interrupted, turning to the dark-haired boy. Sirius sputtered, mouth agape. “Why not!? Moony, come on!”

James had a similar reaction, his eyes wide and jaw dropped. “Moons-” 

“No.”

“Why does everyone hate me today!?” James lamented, dramatically falling back onto the couch.

“No one’s awake and wandering the halls except for prefects, dumbass.” Peter muttered, “Bishop to D5.” You cursed under your breath, watching as he clicked the timer on his end and your clock began to count down.

“There are more uses to sparklers than causing chaos,” Remus suggested, stretching his arms with a pop that Peter grimaced at. “And besides, we have more time to carry out a prank tomorrow.”

Sirius sighed, an expression of boredom on his face as he gestured for the werewolf to continue. “Well… we could just use them as intended. Light them up, or something.”

“That’s so boring!” Both James and Sirius exclaimed, looking at each other and stretching to the other couch to make the loudest, most painful-sounding high-five ever in response to their in-sync whining. They proceeded to keep high-fiving until they both deemed it satisfactory, receiving a fond eye roll from Remus and a hum from you.

“Back at home, my old muggle primary school friends and I would light sparklers at the lake and look at the stars. We could do that,” you commented, clicking the timer and allowing Peter to make a move. The sound of Sirius and James cheering and saying ‘again, again,’ repeated in the background.

Remus nodded, shifting to stand up. “Come on then, James. Get your invisibility cloak,” He prompted the bespectacled boy, causing him to look at Remus with a smile. 

He left Sirius after one more high-five, practically leaping up from the couch and running upstairs, nearly slipping on the hardwood steps. He returned just a few seconds later with the cloak in hand. “So, why did you want it?”

“We’re going to the Black Lake,” Remus said decidedly, shifting his weight onto his right leg when his left hip began to hurt. Sirius, noticing the change in his demeanor, stood up and placed a gentle hand on his back.

You and Peter looked at each other, shrugging before resetting the game. You extended a hand, “I was bound to lose, anyway. Good game.” Peter shook your hand, smiling. “Good game.”

With that, you and the Marauders gathered by the entrance to the common room, watching as Sirius ran off to fetch the muggle sparklers. He returned not long after he left, looking to the stairway to make sure no one was around before giving the okay. James unraveled the cloak and draped it over the five of you.

–

The air was chilly when you made it outside, typical of a fall evening. The sun set a while ago, and the stars just came out. Thankfully, everyone was dressed in jumpers; to say everyone was wearing their rightful jumper would be a stretch, though.

Once making it to the Black Lake, James abandoned the cloak by a large tree, looking up at the sky as Sirius pulled out the pack of sparklers. Remus fished out an old, rusty lighter from his pocket. 

“Come now children, gather round!” Sirius exclaimed, holding out a few sparklers and handing them out to you, James, Remus, and Peter.

Remus helped light them all, sparks, as the name suggests, flying from the rods.

You all stood in a circle, the sparklers creating a warm glow in the otherwise dark, cold atmosphere of the lake. Everyone’s faces, all rosy cheeks and large smiles, were illuminated by light.

James and Sirius were by far the most entertained by the things, waving them around. You admired the glow and crackle of them, the smell familiar as you took in the scene around you. It felt homey, familiar. You hadn’t spoken with those friends that you first did this with in years, and yet it hardly bothered you as you enjoyed remaking those memories with the Marauders.

You and the others slowly drifted to the shore, James and Sirius shrieking as the flames grew close to their fingers. “My hands are gonna get burnt off!” James cried dramatically, waving it around. 

The long-haired boy laughed, throwing the sparkler that was swiftly burning down to his fingers out into the water. It hissed, little sparks flying as it immediately snuffed out. “Oi, did you hear that!?” 

“What? Is something wrong?” Remus asked from his spot on the ground beside you, noticing Sirius’ lack of a sparkler as he took his eyes away from the sky. He had put his out not long ago, attention turning to the stars.

“The sound it made when it went out!” Sirius replied, causing James to turn to him and Remus to sigh with relief. 

“What? What sound? I wanna try!” James promptly dipped the sparkler into the calm, glass-like water of the Black Lake, gasping when it hissed and the sparks ceased. “Oh, that is wicked!” the boy grinned, fetching another sparkler and holding it out towards Remus. The group’s designated sparkler lighter walked over, holding out the flame to it again.

Meanwhile, you and Peter talked about stories from non-Hogwarts schools or summer breaks.

“My third-grade teacher was awful. She yelled at me for getting a bad mark on a quiz, and then made me redo it without telling me what I did wrong… I got the same mark.” You explained, dragging the end of the snuffed-out sparkler in the sand to make various little drawings and patterns.

“I was homeschooled, but I went to a summer camp program a few times. A kid called me brick-like in nature.”

You snorted with wide eyes, a hand over your mouth. “What? That- I’m so sorry, that’s not funny.” You apologized through poorly concealed laughter, Peter joining you soon after. 

“No, it’s funny. Besides, it happened when I was, like, twelve.” The blonde-haired boy reassured, admiring the moon’s reflection on the lake.

Your discussion was interrupted when Sirius suddenly shrieked. You both whipped your heads to where the sound originated from, watching as James chased Sirius with a sparkler. 

“My hair! You’re gonna catch my hair on fire!”

“Good! I’ve had enough of it, your hair gets everywhere in the dorm!” James shouted back, though the chase abruptly ended when he tripped over his own feet, face-planting onto the ground. The sparkler fell from his hands, snuffed out after it landed in the sand.

You all burst into laughter, Sirius turning around and guffawing with a hand over his mouth. “Mate, are you alright?” He snickered, crouching down. James looked up, taking Sirius’ hand and standing again with his help. “I’m fine,” the boy replied, though embarrassment laced his tone.

“Merlin, stop chasing each other around and look at the stars,” Peter interjected, gesturing to the sky. “You’re far less likely to trip and die this way.”

“Fine, fine.” James put his hands up, strutting over with Sirius following close behind. 

They sat down beside Remus, lying on their backs. You, Peter, and the scar-covered boy followed, getting comfortable on the ground below you.

You rested your hands on your stomach, listening to the gentle wind and admiring the cosmos above you and the group.

Sirius shuffled a little closer to Remus, worming his arm underneath the other boy’s head as support. Remus received the gesture with an affectionate smile, the muscles of his shoulders and neck no longer aching.

James adjusted his glasses, taking them off and wiping their lenses with the hem of his jumper before placing them onto his face again.

For once, the group quieted. 

You weren’t always around the Marauders. You met the group on the second day of your first year, swiftly growing to trust and be trusted by them. However, you were in a different house and had your own group of friends which you loved greatly.

If there was one thing you knew, the pranksters were a rambunctious group. There were very few scenarios in which the words were taken from their mouths, and you were glad to be there for one of them.

“...there was a slim chance I was to be allowed into Hogwarts,” Remus suddenly interjected, his voice soft. “Werewolves aren’t really allowed in these spaces. I’m so glad I was, though. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for all of you. Everything has felt easier since I met you lot.”

The rest of you collectively awed, smiling.

You couldn’t see it in the dark, but Sirius shuffled a little closer to Remus.

“Aw, Moony,” James said, a large grin evident in his tone. “You too, Moons. I’m happy we’ve all stuck together. We will, always and forever.”

Even if you weren’t an official Marauder, you still felt your heart warm in your chest and a giddy smile overtake your face.

As a muggle-born, the chances were slim for you, too. But a little part of you knew that, even if you were born a muggle, you would've found them somehow. To know you belonged in something so tight-knit as the Marauders felt like a little more than just a happy accident, and you like to believe they thought so, too.

So, you all lay under the stars until your eyes drooped, and you walked up to your common rooms. That night, sleeping soundly amongst your Hufflepuff friends and roommates, you felt safe in the knowledge that you’d always belong somewhere; no matter the lifetime or universe.

[ifuckedthegrimreaper]

𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 [𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲]

i dance with this girl every night, to the same tune, at the same time. she and I are like timers, always ticking, counting down to something. she rules a nation, it’s the capital of my heart.

and she loves to sing, her tunes i drown in slumber to. I won’t say we’re two pieces of a puzzle, because sometimes our clocks are out of sync. i know one day one of us will run out of battery first, but id rather think of the many hours we’ll count together.

she knows my past, accompanies my present, and she knows shes my future. and i love how we are like chess pieces, just small pawns in the bigger picture, but shes my knight.

she reaches out fervently for me, and im happy to fall in reverence. for if not for loving, why do i have a heart? it goes in palpitations, because my love for her is irregular, i dont think it could be measured by scale.

oh back to our dance. its to this one song she likes, she sings along all the time and i fall silent in awe. and we’ll keep dancing, i think, because no matter what we are, in this moment shes in my arms.

end.

i might post more of this stuff if i get the time, give me some feedback

People i think might be interested: @tamanna-and-her-struggles @mireyaaaaaaaaa @shinchansbitch @jeahreading @depressed-bi-twerking @daonedaonlysk @debacleofdaemons @lovely-rants-alot @your-dazzling-sun @im-on-crack-send-help @schrodinger-ka-billa @unhinged-as-hell

[tragedy-of-commons]

kuras x reader. wc ≤ 1k.

You could kill him right now.

That thought to most, including the subject of your gaze, is no doubt concerning. However, around these parts, the modus operandi of every drunkard, street performer, Bloodhound or Monster is a resounding kill or be killed. 

The fabled Dr. Kuras of Lowtown doesn’t snore. What else would you expect? The pinnacle of propriety, the man mounted upon his high horse (that still stoops low enough to extend a helping hand), the magnanimous genius at rest. Thick eyelashes graze the apples of his cheeks, broad shoulders normally drawn taut now lowered with the rise and fall of his chest.

Your second thought cuts through all rationality: He shouldn’t be that pretty.

…well, you suppose that’s not all that irrational. Being easy on the eyes around these parts can be disarming; it can earn you a place to stay for the night, salacious stares, and most importantly, a favorable perception among shallow people. For you, Kuras falls in the middle. His character doesn’t disarm you, it instead makes your hackles raise - but just enough to prevent you from gutting him.

Such a stupid predicament. 

It isn’t like him to not be on his feet. He’s always ushering patients in and out, acting only mildly offended when offered payment, before conducting his own personal business. This is alluded to by noncommittal anecdotes or pure, direct confrontation if you catch him in the act.

(Nothing incriminating, of course; Kuras is not a criminal. People-watching, conversation with an odd acquaintance here or there, playing coy with Senobium alumni that still beg for his insight. All legal and a far-cry from what he thinks is wrong.)

Everyone seems to be in majority agreement that Dr. Kuras must be good. There will always be distrusting, twice-shy folks like you, but he’s practically the legs that the injured and ill stand on so confidently. He’s inclined to prove all of his detractors wrong while still keeping them at arm's length. 

Having said that, what the hell is going on?

Napping in one of his chairs, slumped against the backrest with you visiting, is not arm’s length behavior. It’s too close, too trusting, and it makes you sick. And not in the way that can be remedied, either! 

You could kill him right now, but you won’t. The stubborn part of you reasons that it’s broad daylight outside, anyone could come knocking - but your mature counterpart singsongs that it’s because you have a huge, hulking crush! What a childish word used to downplay your cautious intrigue--

Kuras stirs. Right.

You’re not sure what his motivations were, inviting you back here. Running into one another at a grubby food vendor, your first instinct was to book it - but of course he’d seen you and called out your name with a warm timbre to his voice, parting the crowd with his presence alone. Never let it be said that you didn’t try to deny Dr. Kuras.

But he’d said something about wanting you to test some kind of new treatment. You’re an interesting patient, plus you’d do quite well for such short notice. I’d appreciate it greatly.

Then you were following him back on familiar cobbles, shadowed by his almost Herculean height. The new treatment wasn’t anything to write home about - ointment, experimental. In Eridia, the last bastion of humanity, you’d almost expected something more magical in nature. Serves you right for assuming, because even after the trial run, you found yourself locked into a battle of wits with the doctor himself.

Chess is not your forte, and the abandoned board reflects that nicely. Kuras almost has you in check, playing white (resembling that pristine coat) with you playing black. You’d clocked the timer to ask for some fresh air, contemplating your life decisions as it were, before stepping outside. It was a short reprieve, must’ve been only ten minutes or so.

Returning from your recess, you were met with a very sleepy Dr. Kuras.

Loathe as you are to care, that can’t be comfortable. How tired must he be, to fall into slumber, completely at your behest, likely causing mild damage to his posture? The light filtering through the raised windows above the sanitation station and various supplies illuminates more of his visage as the sun sinks lower into the sky.

You take your seat, owlishly staring at him like one would a jarred specimen. Dr. Kuras looks more exhausted the closer you scrutinize his condition - it’s easier now that you’re free of a piercing but sincere amber gaze - diligently spotting the telltale dark circles and chapped lips.

…and to think he scolds patients for the negligence of their health. What a guy. You want to severely maim him as a little treat. He doesn’t surrender many of his secrets as peace offerings, but this is pretty close; your whirlwind of thoughts are dominated by top notes of rubbing alcohol and herbs, giving way to bittersweet regret and something surely unattainable.

In Eridia, if you don’t have something, you’ll perish chasing it.

With that in mind, you still stick around a bit longer. It’s a slow day, the doctor is asleep at your mercy, and you scramble the dormant pawns and queens and rooks around to ensure your victory. When Kuras wakes, he’ll be left at a loss.

(You will be as well, considering you’ll be bereft of company, but that should not sting as much as it does. No one is ever as they seem, and no companionship is ever permanent.)

Even so, you toss a thin sheet over his lap after ripping it off one of the nearby cots. It’s flimsy, frivolous, and his coat provides more protection from the cold, but you do it all the same.

Kuras does not so much as stir as you slip out into the street, instead opening his eyes fully without a hint of bleariness as the sidedoor clicks shut. It’s as if he’d never been asleep at all. Swallowing, the doctor’s gaze falls to his lap, pinching the thin sheet with deft fingers. 

“No one is ever as they seem,” he echoes similarly, aloud to no one but himself.

[writing-with-olive]

ADHD task completing tip

okay so growing up i was usually told "do the hard thing first and then you get to do the fun thing." and generally that's reasonable.... if you've got decent executive function. but for those of us who don't, this is a thing i've been using to get through school/work/general human functioning. It's still using hard thing/fun thing, but it interweaves them WAY more

first step: find something that sparks some dopamine quickly. i usually use short-timer online chess or mobile games. if you pick scrolling social media or something that doesn't have a clear endpoint, make sure you have an easy way to set a timer. On apple phones, there's a timer setting that says "stop playing" instead of playing a sound. I love this because it'll take you to your lock screen so you can't accidentally dismiss the timer and keep going. Do NOT make this movement or taking care of bodily functions; eating/hydrating/going to the bathroom/moving around are things you can and should do when your body tells you. take care of ya self

second step: look at your task and break it up TINY. If you have to write a paper, don't break it up by paragraph. break it up into something like fifty words. Cleaning a room: ten items put away. Close reading: 1 page. Really you want something that if your executive functioning was playing nice you could do in 1-4 minutes. I recommend NOT saying "work for x minutes" however, since that's a really quick way to sit there watching the clock. You wanna tie progress to completion not time spent.

third step: estimate how many levels/games/etc of your dopamine source it takes to last 1-5 minutes. Ideally you will already have a sense of this. I'd advise not "testing it out right now" and procrastinating that way.

fourth step: get to work. every time you complete a tiny task, you can do one unit of the dopamine thing. If you get some momentum, you can stack rewards, so if your tiny task was 50 words for one mobile game level, 150 words straight would be three levels. If you are having a really hard time getting going, you can start with 1-3 units of your dopamine thing to kinda jumpstart the process, just decide how many you're doing first so you don't lose hours to it.

note that this ONLY WORKS if you don't ignore your timer/level cutoff. The idea is to get dopamine levels up and use that to power through the next tiny task.

[3liza]

if I get an analog chess clock can I set one side to five minutes and the other side to 20 minutes and use it as a pomodoro timer

[homestuckreplay]

Biscuits’ Oven Jealousy Hours

(page 1220-1247)

Eggs and Biscuits are my new favorite characters. We were previously warned that they were morons, but I did not expect their names to be so literal or their powers to be so ridiculous. Eggs, it seems, can summon a duplicate of himself from another timeline every time his egg timer rings, which is often. In one timeline somebody has taken a bite out of his hat as though he is a peeled hard boiled egg. Biscuits, on the other hand, is able to time travel into the future by climbing into an oven and waiting for the future to arrive. People think he’s too stupid to realize he’s not time traveling, but personally I think he’s pulling the best scam ever. He gets an excuse to hide away, chill and not interact with anyone (or put himself in harm’s way). That’s a sweet deal.

We meet Fin, and the thread of Droog recruiting Deuce to assist in a diabolical past/future trail plot gets tied up beautifully. I like how past and future trails dissipate over time, putting limitations on Fin and Trace’s powers and making it easier to follow the panels visually. I also really like these shots of Deuce (p.1226-7) which is just like previous shots we’ve seen of dream Jade and robot Jade side by side, now with versions of a character from different points in time instead of in space.

‘Doze unslows himself and begins mumbling something feverishly. About his hat.’ I was a fool for not realizing how perfectly a character like Doze can be used for a punchline. The outcome of Deuce and Itchy’s game of musical hats and the previous line that this game might be ‘driving [Doze] nuts. Just very slowly’ (p.1181) being a giant bomb under Doze’s hat absolutely works. It’s a satisfying payoff for a miniature time travel escapade that was a little convoluted, but still followable and consistent.

That particular scheme tied up, there is still a week ish to go in the intermission, so who knows what’ll happen to complicate things further. The Midnight Crew are doing pretty well on the green torsos but we still haven’t caught a glimpse of Clover, Stitch, Sawbuck, Cans, or of course Snowman and Lord English. And we are barely at 10% completion on clocks destroyed so the Midnight Crew better step up their game if they wanna 100% the Felt Mansion.

‘Spades Slick cannot return to being Hearts Boxcars because obviously Diamonds Droog is too busy being Clubs Deuce.’ (p.1242) is a top tier line. I won’t overthink it, I will just accept its truth. Not sure what tone to take from the ‘But we all realized it. Because it's obvious and couldn't possibly be more clear’ later on that page though – but no matter which way I take it, it feels kind of unnecessary.

Anyway I am putting on my tinfoil hat again to talk about page 1236, where we once again see Die in the timeline where Slick is dead, in the strange colored wasteland. Blue and red sand, pink crystalline rocks left behind, emerald city in the distance, large green planet/moon in the sky, and a smaller pink planet/moon with its own tiny satellite. It is REALLY beautiful and looks very alien.. And it is ‘a desert amidst the ruins of a dead civilization’ (p.1236) just like what happened to WV, so... this is a different planet who played Sburb? In which case the Felt must have been the players who beat Sburb and survived and were able to come back to their old planet, while the Midnight Crew are the equivalents of WV, PM and AR, who left the game and actually succeeded in their civic infrastructure goals? And these are two rival gangs because they are literally the only people left alive? Presumably at one point there was one chess piece for each Sburb player, but the others may have been killed already, or the pieces from Prospit may not have wanted to be involved in crime?

Does this mean that getting some sick ass time powers is the prize for winning Sburb? It’s definitely on brand for Skaia given its ability to show scenes from all across time, but it’s not quite the ‘unlimited creative potential’ that was promised. Unless only Lord English has access to that, since he’s ‘killable only through a number of glitches and exploits in spacetime’ (p.1239) and probably has the powers of all the others combined? Did he just level up way more than his friends? Or complete an objective they didn’t, or screw them over inside the game? Is this wasteland/city the kind of life that John, Rose, Dave and Jade have to ‘look forward’ to if they win? Will John get to live in Can Town? Or is what we’re seeing now a ‘bad ending’ for Sburb, and the beta kids will be able to achieve a ‘good ending’ if they work together, where (for example) they can use these time powers to somehow entirely rewind time and stop Sburb from ever being invented or the meteors ever being triggered or something else? I know Nannasprite said Earth is ‘done for’ (p.427) but maybe not in all timelines? Or could the powers even be used to stop Skaia itself? what is going on????

[somedaylazysomeday]

Winner Take All - Part Four

With the Estuary on the line, you and Nathan fight to win your bet.

Nathan Bateman x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI

Word Count: 3,500

Warnings: teasing, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, makeout session, sex as terms of a bet, unprotected sex, anal fingering, creampie

Previous | Masterlist

---

When you had stripped down to your underwear, you turned away from Nathan. It was partially to give yourself a moment and partially to spite his intense gaze. A strategic step toward the couch to set your clothes down in a stack got you out of arm’s reach and you took a deep breath as you reached up to unfasten your bra. 

“So, who goes first?” you asked, slipping your underwear off. There was no answer as you placed it and your bra with the rest of your clothing. You turned, impatient, and sucked in a breath when you found Nathan standing just behind you. 

“Me.” 

That single word and the sound of a hand slapping onto a chess clock were the only warnings you had. Nathan pushed you backward, letting you fall heavily onto the couch behind you as you gave an indignant huff. 

Nathan was a man on a mission. Instead of taking any time with niceties, he muscled his way toward your core, forcing your legs wide around the breadth of his shoulders. He spread your folds with careful fingers, clearing the way for his lips and tongue. 

The urgency of his mouth on you was second only to the desperate grip of your fingers on his scalp. You were clinging to him, and if your hold on his head forced him tighter against you, at least you could claim it hadn’t been on purpose. 

There was so much to capture your attention: the rasp of his beard against the tender skin of your inner thighs, the oddly soothing rhythm of his hands rubbing gently at your folds, the way his eyes glinted up at you from behind his glasses… And, of course, the firm seal of his mouth against the most sensitive, nerve-dense part of your body. 

He had to have rigged the timer. It wasn’t possible that less than two minutes had passed. Nathan had always been good at oral, especially with the enthusiasm he gave it - but this was ridiculous. You weren’t in danger of coming yet, but you could already feel the pleasure starting to coalesce into something more solid.

The chime of the chess clock broke through the building pleasure, and you relaxed against the couch. Nathan used his discarded tee shirt to wipe his mouth. “I didn’t build a cooldown into our time.” 

“Of course not,” you agreed. “That would undermine the point.” 

He grinned, his teeth dramatically white against the darkness of his beard. “Forgot how quick you are to pick up on subtext, sweetheart.” 

“You may get off on the patronizing bullshit, Bateman, but I don’t,” you told him. “All you’re doing is making your own life more difficult. Sit down and I’ll get started.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nathan agreed, sauntering past with a sway in his hips. 

You reached behind yourself, slapping blindly at the chess clock to restart your time. As soon as you did, it was with great pleasure that you hooked your hands behind Nathan’s knees, taking them out from under him and leaving him falling hard onto the couch. 

Still bouncing, he gave you a look. “I see you’ve stolen my starting move. Good choice, emulating the professionals-”

Nathan’s stupid little attempt to get under your skin cut off with a little choke as you took as much of his shaft in your mouth as possible. You held him there, breathing through your nose and sinking as low as your relaxing gag reflex would allow. He was hardening against your tongue, and you swore you could feel him start to throb. 

You hummed, nothing more than a monotone vibration, but Nathan jerked and hissed a curse at the feeling. He was less enthused when you pulled away from him. “You’re never gonna win this if-” 

Ignoring his warning ended up working in everyone’s favor, especially when you only moved back far enough to blow a slow breath over his glistening length. He cursed again, louder than before. You wrapped your hand around him, using your loose fist to leisurely stroke him up and down.

You had only just started to bring your mouth into the mix - licking at his head every time it emerged from the clasp of your fingers - when the chess clock went off. Nathan let out a shuddering breath, and you liked to think you heard relief in it. You weren’t the only one getting keyed up with this little game. 

In a moment, you were back on the couch and the sound of the chess clock being reset rang through the room. This time, Nathan was directing his attention to other places. He mouthed gentle, wet kisses down your torso, working lower but never quite down to where you wanted him most. His hand wandered your most sensitive places - the curve of your ribcage as it tapered down to your waist, the delicate skin under your breasts, the place where your mound met your hip. 

It was very tame compared to how he had spent his last turn, but Nathan made up for it with the way his hands were playing between your legs. His fingers pressed in and out of you, slow but inexorable, and his thumb worked insistently against your clit. His tongue flicked against the swell of your lower belly, the wet heat of it pushing you several surprising steps closer to the edge. Nathan gave a low hum that rumbled pleasantly against your sparking nerve endings and you echoed the sound from over his head. 

The buzz of the chess clock came to you as if from a very long distance and it took a moment before you remembered what it meant. You pushed Nathan’s head and hands away, the motions slow as molasses. 

Nathan stood, pouting slightly. “Almost had you.” 

“You wish, Bateman,” you refuted. But there was no real antagonism in it, because you were focused on him. He was standing just in front of you, looking uncomfortably hard. 

One of Nathan’s hands entered your line of sight, sliding to frame his cock. You glanced up to find him smirking at you. “Distracted, sweetheart?” 

“Not at all,” you told him, lifting your chin. It didn’t hurt that the motion put you closer to him. “Just thinking of how I could help you out.” 

You reached behind him to reset the clock, blowing out a long sigh that teased along his length. Nathan played it as cool as he could, but you could see the way his thighs tensed at your proximity. He clearly expected you to do something dramatic.

And he was right. 

You sat forward on the couch, swallowing down as much of him as you could manage. With a few bobs of your head and an extra few swallows to get used to having something partially down your throat, your lips brushed against the very base of him. Your gag reflex was barely managing not to kick in, and you were briefly, silently grateful for all of the time you had spent doing this when you were hooking up on a regular basis. 

Nathan’s whole body was tense now, entirely on-edge as he balanced on what little control he still had. There were several things he enjoyed in bed, but this was a particular weakness of his. Deep-throating was his most common fantasy, but high on the list was the idea of fucking your mouth. You didn’t let him do it very often, and you had never been the instigator. 

It probably wasn’t the best sign of your character that this was when you finally welcomed him to take part in a cherished fantasy, but you pushed that thought away. You would need all of your concentration for the next part of things. 

Your fingers teased slowly around where they had been locked on the front of his thighs, working until you could grab handfuls of his round ass and pull him in. You increased the suction of your mouth at the same time, sucking greedily as he gave in and thrust into your mouth. 

The loss of control was exactly as you had remembered it, but after you got past the need to be in charge, it wasn’t as bad as you had expected. Nathan hadn’t needed any encouragement after that first thrust, and he eagerly began pumping himself into your mouth. His hands were holding you in place - one locked around your jaw while the other cradled the back of your skull to keep you where he needed you. 

You tried to participate at first, to lick and suck and stroke where you could, but Nathan’s motions were too frenetic for you to keep pace. Instead, you let him use you. Your jaw and throat were relaxed, drool dripping from your lips as your gag reflex scarcely held off. Your hands stayed on his ass, but only so you could track the pace of his thrusting. 

Nathan’s breathing was growing harsh above you, almost frantic. His hands squeezed almost to the point of pain as he pushed himself faster and faster into your mouth. He had to be getting toward the breaking point.

Your eyes were closed and you weren’t entirely sure when you’d closed them. When you managed to open them, your gaze naturally tracked to the man standing over you. Nathan was staring down at you and, when he saw you looking back up at him, he clenched his teeth so hard that a muscle in his jaw visibly twitched.

“I’m…”

The ringing of the chess clock interrupted him and you both let out a heartfelt curse. Yours was garbled by the cock in your mouth, but Nathan soon solved that problem. He tore himself free of you, hunched protectively over his red, throbbing length. Even with the wetness you’d left on him, you could see the precum beading on his tip, and you knew he had been close. Painfully so, it would seem. 

“You didn’t build a cooldown into our time,” you reminded him. 

“Shut up,” Nathan ordered, slapping his palm against the chess clock so hard that it sounded as if it would break. 

He leaned down to kiss you and your lips were already parted with surprise. It was sweet, you reflected, that after everything you had done up to that point, he still wanted to kiss you. 

And then Nathan urged you backward until you were lying flat on the couch with the weight of him pressing heavily on top of you. The next instant, his tongue was invading your mouth and he pressed his hardness between your thighs. He wasn’t trying for a kiss, he was aiming for a full-on makeout session. 

You almost had to give him credit: there weren’t many people who would kiss quite so deeply considering how you had been trying to win your competition. You weren’t immune to that, either, but the traces of yourself that you could detect in his mouth lingered with the taste of him. You found the combination oddly compelling. 

Nathan began to move on top of you. He didn’t breach your body with his, but he had pushed himself upward until the entirety of his length was lined up with the seam of your core. Pressed as tightly as he was, you could feel every bump and swell of him against you. 

And then he began to thrust. 

He didn’t seem to be fully in control of himself. The motions were jerky and rushed, Nathan rutting against you like it was all he could do to keep from spearing himself inside of you as deep as he could get. You weren’t helping things, either. Your hips lifted automatically, pressing your weeping core against him until the friction turned to something sharp and maddening. 

The grimace on his face was harsh, but it broke into a vicious smile as the head of his cock caught at the swollen nub of your clit. The way your breath caught told him everything he needed to know. Nathan lowered his head to capture your lips once more as he zeroed in on that spot and pulsed his hips there. 

You were suddenly rushing, soaring toward the edge and there was nothing you could do to stop the intensity of your reaction to him. You dug your fingernails into the muscles of Nathan’s back, but he just nipped at your bottom lip and kept going. 

The clock chimed and Nathan’s groan almost drowned out your victorious laugh. Both noises sounded noticeably shaky. 

Your hand slapped the chess clock, and you made a mental note to check later whether it had been damaged during all of this. But first, you had a competition to win and a decently strong idea on how you were going to pull it off. 

It was tricky to reposition yourselves on the couch without falling off, but you managed, maneuvering Nathan until he was lying flat beneath you. You paused for a moment to admire him - all tensed muscles under a sheen of sweat, bright eyes and teeth partially hidden by glinting glasses and a dark beard - but you were ever-conscious of the fact that you only had two minutes. 

Nathan was hard enough that you were vaguely nervous about hurting him as you positioned his length beneath you. But the noise he made when you took him in your hand was anything but pained. And when you sank down onto him, both of you let out matching groans. His was harsher while yours verged on breathless, but you both seemed a little dazed when you were finally sitting fully on him.

But there was no time to soak in the sensations. You planted your hands on his chest and took up a frantic rhythm, jolting up and over him before pushing back with all of your strength to spear him fully into yourself. The thickness of him was startling, driving the air from your lungs with the intensity of taking him in this position. 

Nathan didn’t move overly much to help you. You hadn’t expected him to, since that would be urging himself toward losing the competition, but you got the feeling it didn’t stem from a place of petty refusal. No, when you stared down at him, framed by the dark material of his couch, Nathan was staring up at you with something akin to worship in his expression. That was almost enough to make you falter. 

When the clock sounded again, Nathan didn’t even break eye contact. He reached over, reset it, and urged you on. It was your turn, and both of you were inconveniently close to orgasm. As he leaned up to kiss you once more, you smiled against his lips. You had always excelled at running out a clock. 

You didn’t stop moving altogether. It was partially to keep Nathan from rebelling entirely, but also because stopping sounded akin to death. But you did slow significantly, rocking your hips at a more leisurely pace until each stroke seemed to last an eternity.

Nathan only let that continue for so long. His hands wrapped around your hips, trying to push you back toward your previous pace. When you didn’t let that happen, he settled for holding you still while he furiously canted his hips up into you. The noise you made didn’t sound entirely human. 

“Bateman,” you groaned, trying to sound irritated. You only managed to sound pouting and desperate. “I’m on top. That means I’m in charge.” 

“Oh, does it?” Nathan asked. The glimmer in his eyes was the only warning you got before he clamped your hips against his and flipped you both around. When you were lying safely on the couch once more, Nathan was looming over you, looking greedy and triumphant. He gave an experimental stroke of his length in and out of your heat, clearly pleased with himself. “I like this rule.”

He set a jolting, bouncing pace, and it was all you could do to keep from crying out with the intensity of it. You fought every instinct you had, commanding your body to keep completely still under him to avoid pushing yourself closer to the edge. You were only moderately successful, and much less so as Nathan reached down to toy with your clit. 

“Nathan!” you chided, reaching down to grab his hand. “Stop!” 

He simply laughed, lacing your fingers together and using the combined digits to tease at your most sensitive place. 

When the clock sounded again, your thighs were trembling with the effort it took not to come around him. Nathan cursed, and you noted that his eyes were far too bright, sweat rolling down his face with how hard he was fighting to keep it together. 

You reset the clock, jaw firming with determination. If Nathan wasn’t going to take it easy on you, you weren’t going to do the same for him. And in your time together, he had shared something that he wanted very badly to try…

Nathan didn’t move to get off of you or roll over so that you were on top once more. You knew he wasn’t trying to be helpful, but that suited your plan just fine. 

He picked up his pace again, thrusting determinedly against him. You let your hands slip from his shoulders down his back, trailing further and further down until they were moving between his legs. 

Nathan’s rhythm faltered when he felt your fingertips brush against his perineum, but he valiantly kept focused on his own movements. You were unbothered by his lack of response, reaching to gather some of the wetness that had leaked from where you were joined before traveling up and back along his cheeks. 

It was tricky, trying to slip even one finger between the rounded globes of his ass. They squeezed together every time he thrust into you, and you would be lying if you said the motion wasn’t distracting… on multiple levels. 

But you wrangled your concentration, figured out the timing, and pressed your slick fingers between his taut cheeks. You didn’t try to breach the pursed ring of muscle you found there - after all, you hadn’t discussed it, and that wasn’t fair - but you pressed enough that he knew you were there. 

Nathan started to breathe fast and faster, eventually letting out a hoarse shout as he thrust into you as far as he could get. You could feel the twitch of his cock inside of you, painting your inner walls with proof that you had won. 

With your victory certain, your free hand slipped down between you and rubbed furiously at your clit. Only seconds passed before you followed Nathan, your entire body clenching and rippling with the force of your long-awaited orgasm. Even as your vision turned to stars, you were struck by the way every other sense was dominated by Nathan. 

At last you were slack and sated, Nathan lying heavy on top of you. Dimly, you recognized that the chess clock had rang a final time, but neither of you reached to reset it. There was no need. 

“Wanna buy the Estuary?” Nathan asked eventually. He lifted his head, and you breathed a sigh of relief. The frame of his glasses had been biting into your breast. “I think you’ve earned it.”

“Offer it back to Mira and Noor,” you countered. “If they refuse, we’ll talk.”

He hummed an agreement, settling against you once more. This time, he turned his head to watch you, helpfully keeping his glasses from digging into your tender skin. When he spoke again, Nathan’s voice was quiet, thoughtful: “Too bad. I wanted to know what happened with us. Sure you don’t wanna tell me anyway?” 

You huffed a laugh, looking down at him with fondness. Nathan Bateman was nothing if not persistent. 

That was when a realization struck: you were never going to change him. There was no point in trying to talk him out of it if he wanted to get back into working with artificial intelligence. You had known that from the start, of course, but you abruptly realized that you didn’t want to miss out on knowing him. 

You shook your head, swallowing against the lump that had suddenly appeared in your throat. “It actually doesn’t matter. I’ll be around more, as long as you still want me to be.” 

Nathan watched you suspiciously, his sharp gaze missing nothing. But he nodded anyway. “It’ll be good to have someone who knows enough to be impressed at my genius. I’m wasted on most people.”

“Just because they don’t like you doesn’t mean they don’t understand you,” you corrected. Nathan frowned, ticking his fingers against your bare torso. You made an outraged sound and pushed at him as he started to laugh. Despite yourself, you smiled at his antics. 

Maybe there was nothing you could do to change Nathan Bateman, but that was probably a good thing. It was enough just to be with him. If and when a time came that you had to say goodbye to Nathan, you would do so knowing that you had grabbed every moment together that you possibly could.

---

Author's Note - I'm not sure whether I'll continue with these two since this is my last Fanfic February. But they were a lot of fun, so nothing is certain!

Thank you for reading!

[communalwife]

all debates should have a chess clock timer. 20 minutes per person, and that’s it. spreading is encouraged. i’m not saying that this would necessarily improve the quality of the debates in any fashion, but i do think it would be interesting.

[royalchessmallusa]

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[royalchessmall12]

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[thecurioustale]

Drawing a Game of Magic: The Gathering

Magic: The Gathering is a famously hard game to draw. The rules of the game only allow draws in vary narrow circumstances; basically, the game state has to break.

In fact I only ever drew a game once. Or, rather, the opponent bumbled into drawing the game. Neither of us realized what had happened at first. I had Enchanted Evening on the battlefield, which makes everything on the battlefield an enchantment. And into that the opponent played Ajani's Chosen, a creature with an ability that says whenever an enchantment enters the battlefield under one's own control, that player must create a 2/2 Cat token.

Since Ajani's Chosen itself entered the battlefield as an enchantment creature due to Enchanted Evening, it automatically triggered itself into making its first 2/2 Cat token...which entered the battlefield as an enchantment creature...triggering the creation of another Cat token...ad infinitum.

The token creation effect on Ajani's Chosen is mandatory—something Magic has moved away from in more recent years, in part to reduce unintended consequences like this one—so there was no way for the opponent to choose not to create a Cat.

In theory, if the opponent had had instant speed enchantment removal, they could have destroyed my Enchanted Evening and broken the loop in response to (any) one of the triggers. But they didn't have instant speed enchantment removal because most decks don't run it.

I did have instant speed enchantment removal in hand, but damned if I was gonna use it! Theoretically, if I had realized what was about to happen (which I didn't) I could've destroyed my enchantment in response to the very first trigger and broken the loop before it ever started. But I was already losing the game at that point due to the opponent's growing menagerie of board threats, and destroying Enchanted Evening would've ruined any chance I had of winning the game. Similarly, once I had allowed a few of these Cat enchantment tokens to resolve onto the board, and realized that the opponent had an infinite combo, there was no way I was going to destroy my enchantment then, because that would've left the opponent with umpteen 2/2 Cat tokens on the board and guaranteed lethal damage on their next turn. So at that point my only out was to draw into a mass enchantment removal card on my next turn. (That was my deck's win condition: Turn everything into an enchantment, make my own things indestructible, and then destroy all enchantments.)

It actually took me a little bit longer to realize that the opponent wasn't in control of their infinite combo, and hadn't done it on purpose. I wasn't sure what would happen next. I figured that whomever's timer ran out first would lose the game, so I had auto-passed all my priorities. In theory, I could still have won the game at this point if the opponent had spent all their remaining clock time resolving new Cat enchantment tokens, but they soon auto-passed priority too, and now the game was playing itself, merrily creating Cat tokens without limit. Mercifully, the game client shortly detected the infinite loop and kindly informed us that an infinite loop had been detected and that the game was a draw.

So by playing Ajani's Chosen into Enchanted Evening, the opponent blundered a game that they had previously been heavily favored to win, and by me not destroying my own enchantment and both of us auto-passing priority, we forced a draw.

I don't know how they felt about it, but I had like eight feathers in my cap afterward.

^ _ ^

One of the reasons I like Magic is that, as with chess—in fact even more so than in chess—there are so many permutations and so many possibilities. I wish I could say that you never really play the same game of Magic twice, but that's not true: Magic gameplay is often horribly sameish because most people play the same high-tier netdecks, because they want to win more than they want to have fun (or, more charitably, winning is the part of the game that's fun for them). So most games of Magic follow some very well-worn wagon ruts. But when you do get an opponent with a homebrewed deck, Magic is delightfully varied and diverse in its emergent gameplay, especially when both players' decks are interactive with each other. Games like those become a puzzle to solve, a truly one-of-a-kind puzzle that never came before and will never come again. It's a battle of wits and luck, and the complexity and variety and sheer pleasure of it is truly enthralling.

Anyway, this is apropos of nothing. I am procrastinating from work. Now I guess I should get back to it. :p

[launa-moe-art]

Tales from the Other Side: Reverend's Words

A conversation between a sister and her reverend.

Rated T for Teen. No major warnings, but there are hints of manipulation.

A chess match had occurred between the Reverend Mother and one of her closest associates. All the other nuns were in their chambers resting as a part of their strict schedule. Guards were posted outside the door to the Mother’s office, staying vigilant for any busybody sinners that temporarily resided in their guest rooms. The Mother was eyeing the board as her colleague moved her bishop diagonally across the board and placed it right next to her knight. Side by side. The smaller nun tapped the timer perched on a small box beside the board, two minutes and 13 seconds. 

The Reverend continued to eye the board. She agreed to a pastime before she retired for the morning. A simple chess game with only them present. The abbess moved her rook to overtake her other bishop. One tap on the clock, two minutes and 33 seconds.

“If I may, Sister Edith?” the Reverend spoke. The sister perked up at the sudden conversation. “Yes, Reverend Mother?”

“Is there any reason you wanted to see me tonight?”

The Sister swallowed. Her polite posture contradicted the muscles tensing underneath her habit. The authority of the Mother still reigned behind closed doors. “…I wanted to ask you about one of our guests.”

The Reverend flicked her line of sight towards the Sister, not saying a single word. Make it quick. The smaller nun clenched her hands ever so slightly, not enough to where it’d break etiquette, but enough to signal uneasiness. The Sister silently inhaled and exhaled softly, “It’s about the imp from the Lust Layer.” The Reverend continued to look at the Sister, who was starting to feel the sense of being read like a book. The larger nun brought her arms above the desk and rested her elbows, hands becoming a bridge for her sharp chin to lay on. “What about him,” the Mother uttered. The Sister continued to feel a little uneasy at the blunt response. She had to choose her words carefully.

“…May I ask why he’s here with us? Imps aren’t known for being…worthy of our grace.”

The Mother looked down at the chessboard before her and then at the discarded chess pieces to her left. She moves her hand to delicately pick up a piece taken from her: a pawn.

“You’re familiar with pawns, correct?” She spoke, slowly admiring it as she rotated it carefully from side to side. The sister gulps again, making sure her posture remains polite. “Y-yes, I’m quite familiar with them.” The Mother gently moved the piece from her fingers to her palm, using her claw-like digits to carefully surround it while it remained unharmed, almost like she was cradling it.

“They were given this name for a reason.”  Her hand lit up a cobalt blue as she levitated it above her hand. “They’re normally viewed as mere infantry by humans, but in reality, they resemble the ones who pick a cause to believe in. One to fight and put everything on the line to sustain their livelihoods. Naturally, they’re the weakest pieces on the board…unless you know how to use them.” The Reverend continued to make the piece float as she carefully watched it. “You’re familiar with the rule that pawns can change their status once they reach the end of the board, yes?” The Sister almost agreed with her until she was interrupted. “They can become anything. A rook, a knight, a bishop…” The Reverend’s eyes grew darker as she gazed at the pawn.

“Even a Queen. But never a King.”

The pawn ignited in a flame that matched her color, burning as the Reverend watched her power surround it. The Sister could only watch as her abbess was mesmerized by the violence she wrought on her discarded pawn. A sick mixture of endearment and cold-heartedness brewed in her eye, causing her lone council member to tremble at the sight. She couldn’t break her etiquette. Not here, not now. 

“They can prove themselves to be worthy of our grace, yes, but entertaining them with the idea they’d ever be a part of it is even better.” The pawn vanished within the flames and returned to its proper place in a second. The Sister was in awe at her effortless powers, but she looked down and saw the board was completely different. Her Knight wasn’t beside her abbess’ Bishop anymore.

It was overtaken by a Queen,  and her king was surrounded by a checkmate through a rook, a knight, and a pawn who suddenly became a bishop. 

“Especially when you have one who tears through your enemies with ease.”

She was getting unnerved.

“R-Reverend, I-“

A buzzer went off. Five minutes had already passed. Her time was up.

“Oh, would you look at the time! I’d love to play again, but I believe it’s time for you to retire for the night, yes? We wouldn’t want our fellow Sisters to feel envy of all things!” The Reverend laughed so sweetly at her little joke. “Y-yes, of course!” the Sister replied, suddenly flustered at the saccharine tone she received. She got another rare moment that kept her by her side, a reminder even. Quickly grabbing the chess box from the side of the desk, she placed all the pieces and components back inside with great efficiency. In the midst of her locking the box with ease, she felt a growing sense of euphoria bubbling in her chest and then a familiar, clawed hand placed on her shoulder. The Sister turned around and saw her Reverend once again stare at her eyes with her single one through her veil. The Mother had leaned close to make sure she properly heard her.

“One more thing, Sister Edith.”

“Yes, Reverend Mother?”

Her iris went slightly dark as she gave her command.

“What’s discussed in this room, stays in this room.” Her voice was distorted. “Rumors aren’t to be spread in my domain.”

The nun quickly nodded, garnering an implied small smile from her abbess. Once dismissed, the Sister remained giddy about being one of her most trusted council members. She could almost skip down the hall to her chamber for feeling such unspoken praise from her abbess, yet a thought still lurked in her mind. A dark one that bothered her and made her slow her walk.

If she saw the imp as her pawn to use, one to burn in flames if he ever crossed her or gained enough strength…

What does she think of the rest of them?

[archaeopath]

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