#Gem appears at the last portion

[tubbytarchia]

Oops another WIP Pearl animatic ft. Scott and Gem

[the-broken-truth]

Broken-Style Remix: No Peace For A Peace God

Broken: Hello, Everyone! My friend - @anxiousnerdwritings - allowed me to make a small snippet they created about a Minor God of Peace Reader leaving the Patheon they were in to live their immortal life in the mortal world; however, coming in contact with Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman and the Amazons makes that rather difficult. Let's see how everything goes. Let the words weave together!

Note: [Name] is a Minor God of Peace in the Greek Patheon; I chose Greek because the Amazons have ties to the Greek Patheon. This one-shot will be told from a first-person perspective.

Based on my observations, it seems that people eagerly anticipate the point in their lives when they no longer have to work. They view it as a time when they can live off the money they've saved over the years or the pension they receive from the government. Sometimes, I wonder what my life would have been like if I were a human being, attending school, getting a job, starting a family, and growing old before passing away and potentially being reincarnated to start anew.

Alas, fate did not wish that kind of life for me; thus, I was given the life of an immortal, even if my former role in the patheon was not are important as others were.

I am [Name], a Minor God/Goddess and the God/Goddess of Peace in the Greek Divine Pantheon. However, I must clarify that the rightful title of Goddess of Peace belongs to Lady Eirene. Though I am a Minor God/Goddess, I possess some powers similar to Lady Eirene's, but not on the same scale as hers. I can bring about peaceful solutions amongst mortals in small groups, such as villages and some of the other minor gods who reside on Mount Olympus. Lady Eirene, on the other hand, is responsible for maintaining peaceful relations between full-blown towns and councils with Olympus' Elite Gods. Although we both perform our duties well, Lady Eirene's name is more well-known and overshadows mine. As a result, I rarely receive offerings and prayers, and although I know I shouldn't be upset about it, it sometimes hurts my feelings.

As time passed, I began observing humanity closely and grew curious about their way of life. I even found myself envious of them. I considered leaving Olympus and living my immortal life among mortals, but my duties as a divine being held me back. I thought I still had a place among the gods and goddesses of Olympus, so I stayed.

One day, Lord Zeus invited all the minor and major gods and goddesses from other realms to a party on Mount Olympus. I arrived just before the party started, but was stopped by Lord Ares and Lord Zeus before I could enter the Great Hall. They told me that I could come to the party, but I argued that I was also of divine origin and therefore should be allowed in as well. Lady Eirene appeared, sensing the tension, but instead of vouching for me as a fellow god of peace, she told me that I shouldn't consider myself a god or goddess since I rarely received any offerings or prayers. She told me to leave Mount Olympus since the night was for the "true gods". That was the last straw for me.

I told them that I would no longer listen to them and that I wouldn't be tied to them by my divine blood. I abandoned Olympus and my fellow gods and goddesses at that moment and descended to the mortal realm. From that day on, I would live the remainder of my immortal life as a mortal. I was finally free.

Although I have lived for centuries, I appear to be only 18 years old. During my long life, I have accumulated a vast collection of gems and treasures. With the aim of starting my life anew, I decided to sell a small portion of them and make a decent amount of money. I took my collection to an appraiser, who gave me a fair price. Since I didn't want to stay in Greece any longer, I used the money to purchase a ticket for the first boat out of the country.

Destination?

A place known as Gotham City.

The boat ride from Gotham was long but that gave me all the time I needed to make the proper plans I needed to start my life over: I would use my power to give myself citizenship by creating the necessary documents such as a birth certificate and social security number. Next, I would find a decent place to live before finding a job; I may have the funds I need to live on, but I still need a life for myself. I made a mental note to purchase a device known as a 'cell phone';; a passenger on the boat was watching something 'videos' on a social platform known as 'YouTube'. I was going to need this strange device and knowledge of these social media platforms if I truly wanted to be a human.

I acquired a cell phone and started searching for apartment listings in my area. I found a decent 2-bedroom unit with a bathroom, living room, dining room, kitchen, and a balcony. I contacted the realtor and he was eager to show me the apartment the same day. We agreed to meet at a local cafe that was currently hiring for a barista and baker, as it was located right down the street from the apartment. Before the realtor arrived, I managed to pick up an application from the hiring manager. We then walked to the apartment, which was rather nice with dark wooden floors in the living and dining rooms, tiled floors in the kitchen and bathroom, and carpet in the bedrooms. The rent and deposit were reasonable, and the realtor had the paperwork with him. He told me that if I signed it, I could move in the same day. I had a look at the leasing contract to ensure that there were no hidden terms, and upon finding nothing, I asked a few questions with the recording app on my phone to use as evidence in case the realtor tried anything suspicious later. After signing the paperwork, I received the keys to the apartment and mailbox. The realtor informed me that I would receive a copy of the lease in the mail, and then left me alone in my new apartment.

A week later, I returned to the cafe with the filled-out application for the barista and baker positions; after a test to prove I would be capable of handling the tasks under pressure - there wasn't really any pressure since I used my aura to keep everyone calm and acting decent and in order - I was given the job.

It would be another month when my mortal life started shifting in another direction upon meeting Bruce Wayne.

I was working the morning shift when a well-dressed male with piercing blue eyes walked into the cafe and walked over to the counter; there was no line since I already handled it an hour ago. He ordered a dark coffee and a strawberry cheesecake muffin before he took a seat in the booth; there was something about him that radiated sadness. He continued working on his laptop for about 2 hours, long since finishing his coffee and muffin; I made him another coffee, warmed up another muffin, and placed them before him, causing him to look at me with confusion in his eyes, I smiled at him.

"You seem like you are under a lot of stress, these are on the house." I said before walking away. Just then, the door burst open and 3 masked figures barged in with guns, causing everyone to scream in fear while cowering in their chairs but I refused to move from where I was standing. The leader of the group pointed his gun in my face but I looked calmly down the barrel before lifting my hand and moving the gun away before looking into his eyes - into his soul - and his secrets were revealed to me; he was doing this out of desperation.

"Do you think that she would want you to do this?" I asked, causing him to look at me confused, "I know that you are not doing this because of malice in your heart. I know that you are shaking in your soul with fear and anxiety. You want to be a good son and save the woman who gave you everything but this is not the way to do that."

"Then, what can I do? What other option do I have?" He whimpered at me. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a small ruby, and held it out to him before placing it in his palm.

"This is a Burmese Ruby. A Ruby of this size should be worth around $20,000; that should be more than enough to pay for her treatment and aid you in what else you need for a while. Please, never resort to this again; there is always a better way. Do you swear this?" I asked. He looked at the ruby, closed it in his fist, and sobbed before hugging me for a few moments and leaving with the other masked them. Everyone watched me for a while as I walked back around the counter to continue working as if nothing ever happened.

It would be about 3 days later when I received a visit from the Guardian of Gotham.

I had just arrived home after a long day at work, and the visage of a piping hot pizza filled my mind as I pulled out my phone and called my favorite pizza place and asked them to deliver my favorite [Pizza Type] pizza along with [Favorite Soda Type] soda with an [Dessert] in addition; I had some extra cash and I felt like I deserved something sweet for all my hard work. I sat down in my favorite chair and turned on my television to watch [Favorite TV Show] while waiting for my pizza. I was intuned with my show when I felt a familiar aura coming from my balcony, I looked in that direction and saw a towering figure standing on my balcony, watching me while blocking out the moonlight. I rose from my chair and walked over to the door before sliding it open and came face to face with a man in a bat suit. I looked at his face, the upper part of his face covered by his ask with a glare on his face as he looked down at me; however, his aura gave him away.

"You are aware that I don't have muffins and coffee here, right?" I asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile on my face; he looked shocked by my words and marched into the apartment, causing me to close my door and walk over to him with my arms folded, "Is there a reason you are wearing that suit and staring at me through my window, Mr. Wayne?"

"How do you know who I am?" He asked.

"Your aura gave it away - you're radiating the same sadness you were the moment we met. You can change outfits but your aura shall always remain the same.

"You can read aura? You are not human." He said.

"Nope. I'm not human, however, I do prefer to live like one; I've been living like this for the past month & a half and I prefer living to this than I did my previous life." I shrugged.

"If you aren't human, what are you exactly?" He asked.

"I'd rather not say." I heard a knock on the front door, and my mouth started watering, "Food's here! About time!" I walked to the door, greeted the delivery man, and paid for my food while giving him a generous tip before closing the door behind me with my foot since the food was in my hands; I looked around to see Burce was no longer there but I didn't care. Time to eat!

Life going forward would be difficult after meeting Burce Wayne because he didn't learn how to leave me the heck alone. He would come to the cafe and attempt to make conversation with me, trying to gain personal information about me. He would show up at my apartment as Bruce and Batman constantly trying to make me change my lifestyle to a 'healthier' one; he doesn't approve of the additional muffins I take home or the amount of frozen food I have in my freezer. Even when I am out in public, he somehow manages to find me and tries to interfere with my plans or worm his way into them. Then, he literally tried to tell me that I would be adopted into his family; no matter how many times I refused. He was really starting to get on my nerves.

It would be another month when I met another person who would attempt to uproot my life & alter it to their liking: The Man of Steel, Kal-El.

While working at a cafe, I discovered my passion for drawing, specifically digital art and animation. One day, I came across a contest on TV offering a drawing tablet as the prize and decided to enter. To my surprise, I won the contest and received the setup at my doorstep a week later. I set it up in the second room of my apartment, which I converted into an office. Initially, it took me some time to get used to the tablet, but soon I started creating digital art and animations, which I shared on my social media accounts. That was the beginning of my journey.

After accumulating a massive following on Facebook and Twitter, I received a message from an Animation Company stationed in Metropolis; they were requesting that I come in for a meeting for a possible partnership in regards to my art and animations. I agreed to their request and I received the time and date for the meeting; Metropolis was a decent distance away but I happened to have purchased a motorcycle last week and was looking forward to the meeting.

I got on my bike with my flash drives full of art and animations and headed to Metropolis for a meeting. Once I arrived at the building, I gave my name to the receptionist, who then took me to the meeting room. There, I presented my work and the representatives were thrilled with it. They offered me a generous signing bonus and commission for every artwork and animation I created for them. I agreed to do commission work as I wanted to keep my weekend job at the cafe but would work on their projects during the week. After reading and signing the business deal, I left the building. As I was leaving, I bumped into a tall man with light blue eyes, black hair, glasses, and a reporter's outfit with a camera around his neck, as well as a notepad and pen in his hands. He introduced himself as Clark Kent, a journalist and reporter for the Daily Planet of Metropolis. He wanted to interview me as the youngest person to be hired by the Animation Company. I offered to take him to lunch and give him the interview he was looking for after hearing his stomach growl.

During our conversation, he told me about his family: His wife and work partner, Lois, his son, Jon, and his younger brother, Connor; as well as his parents John and Martha Kent. I expressed how lucky he was to have such a close family since I wasn't close with my family. He seemed sad for me and offered to have me meet this family and even offered to have me take the Kent Name for myself since I didn't have a surname, but I refused his offer and went back home to start getting to work on the content my new bosses wanted me to do for completion in 2 weeks time. However, that would not be the last time I would ever see Clark Kent.

I was doing work in my office when I got a video call from Bruce, who was still pestering me to join his family and become [Name] Wayne, but I continued to refuse him when I noticed there was another request for a video call from someone I didn't recognize; curiosity got the better of me and I accepted the call - it happened to be Clark.

Clark (Smiling): Hi, [Name]! How are you doing today?!

[Name]: How did you get my contact information, Clark? I didn't give it to you the last time we talked.

Clark: I happen to have a friend who knew you and I got your contact information from him, but that's not important right now! Have you thought about what we talked about?

Bruce (In the background): You were the one who broke into my computer and stole [Name's] Contact Information, Kent?

Clark: Bruce? Is that you?

[Name] merges the call between Bruce and Clark]

Clark: Bruce, why are you talking to [Name]?

Bruce: I can ask you the same thing, Kent. I'm am trying to convince [him/her] to accept the Wayne Name.

Clark: The Wayne Name? No way that's happening! [Name] is going to become a Kent!

[Name]: I'm not taking either of your names nor am I joining your families. The Bat-Family & Super-Family have nothing to do with me and I want nothing to do with either of you. Now, I'm working, leave me alone.

[Name] Leaves The Video Call]

After that video call, it was silent for about 3 weeks, I thought the two of them got the message and decided to leave me alone; however, I couldn't be more wrong.

It was around that time a 3rd Player entered the game and I was going to have a hard time shaking this one off.

The Princess of the Amazonian Nation and Defender of Man's World: Diana of Themyscira.

It was one of my days off and I had nothing better to do, so I decided to do something I hadn't done in a long while - go flying. I waited for the sun to leave the sky and the full moon to shine, I stood on the roof of my apartment complex and made sure no one was around before I allowed my Divine Power to flow through my body and took off into the thick layers of clouds. Using the clouds as cover, even though I was almost certain no one could see me from this height, and if they happened to see me, they would have most likely mistaken me for a bird. I was enjoying myself, feeling the breeze on my face when I felt another aura quickly approaching me; I stopped flying and floated there for a while I noticed a figure approaching me and stopped a few feet away from me - A Woman.

No.

An Amazon Warrior.

"I am Diana of Themyscira - Princess of the Amazon Nation. I have served the gods faithfully and have always been able to sense when someone of divine blood was near. Imagine my surprise to find a Divine One masquerading as a human and living as one. I heard of your actions from 2 Males I have been working with to protect Man's Word; I can feel it within you - You are a God/Goddess, I can tell from your aura." Diana explained to me, I exhaled before folding my arms while looking at her.

"You are correct, I am a God/Goddess of Peace; however, I am a Minor God/Goddess. I was sick of the way I was being created on Mount Olympus and decided to leave and live as a human. I have been enjoying life as I have been now; with the exception of Bruce Wayne & Clark Kent bothering me to join their families, alas, they refuse to take no for an answer." I exhaled with a shake of my head at the thought of all of Bruce's & Clark's attempts.

"They shall not get the chance. You are of Divine Blood and you need to be treated as such. You shall come with me to Themyscira and we shall worship you as you are meant to be." Diana said.

"I'm not interested. I love being a human." I said.

"You are not human...and you shall not continue to live as one. Come with me willingly, or I shall take you by force." Diana warned.

"I said that I am not interested. Goodbye." I said. She charged at me and attempted to grab my arm but I vanished and teleported back to my living room in a flash of gold light.

I ran my hand through my hair, pulled out my phone, and requested a month's vacation from both of my jobs. Once I received confirmation on both ends, I called a friend who owns a cabin in the woods, away from Gotham & Metropolis, and asked to use it for a month. He agreed since he owed me a favor. I packed a few things such as clothes, my sketch tablet, grade & color pencils, and my wallet. I made sure my bike was locked securely and asked my neighbor, who I was on good terms with, to watch my house while I was out of the city. After receiving confirmation from her, I went back inside to grab my suitcase before teleporting to the cabin's location since I had been there before. I knew where the spare key was and went inside to get some sleep. I just wanted to relax.

Currently, I was sitting on the porch of the cabin with a cup of coffee in my hands when I felt 3 Familair Auras approaching my current location; I knew they were going to find me eventually but I was surprised it took them this long - my vacation was going to be over in 3 days; might as well deal with this now. I sipped my coffee just as a black bat-themed jet appeared over the treeline before hovering on the ground and the cockpit opened as Batman jumped out and started walking towards me as Superman and Wonder Woman landed on the low grass at the same time, glaring at each other before glaring at Bruce who was standing before me, telling me it was time for me to join his family.

Superman matched over to his dark-dressed friend and grabbed his shoulder to push him away from me while barking that I was going to go to the Kent Farm in Smallville, Kansas to live with his Pa & Ma; he already told them about me and they were looking forward to meeting me and welcoming me to the Kent Family.

Wonder Woman pushed the two men apart and roared at them that I was a God/Goddess, therefore I needed to be treated like one and not a human as I have been living for the past few months. I would go with her to the Amazon Island and be worshipped as I was meant to be; while that would have interested me in the past, I wasn't interested in it now.

As for me, I just sat there watching them before exhaling, 'Just as there are geniuses in Humanity, there are also idiots.'

[End of the Remix]

Broken: And done. What do you think, @anxiousnerdwritings?

[ch0wen]

༝ ˚ ༝ My Lady is the Sea ｡ ˚ ༝ - Prince Eric x Fem!Reader | NSFW

𖠳 ᐝ warnings: brief smut, 18+ (minors dni), unprotected sex & cursing

Sea salt tickles your nostrils as you step out onto the wooden dock. Nose twitching like a bunny to rid the salty air from your sensitive nerves. You glide forward only a few feet, and your left shin knocks into a wooden pole. A barricade lined the perimeter of the landing. Fencing that stops you from falling into the unknown below. An oil lantern illuminates a portion of the dock and the gradually darkening surface of the deep. The expansive waters lurk just beyond the fading arc of light. Your body gently sways with the sounds of the waves stirring.

Instinctively, you flex your hold on a roped handle. A heavy, disgusting mixture of beer and spit sloshes in the bucket that you have been entrusted to dump out. Polluting the ocean, you think. An unfortunately common attribute of living in a coastal town. It's second nature to dump and forget. Water appears to be along every horizon you look to. It surrounds you, yet it's ever-moving. Continuous. Traveling away.

How you wish you could be out there now. Just like your father had moons ago. Oh, the precious things he gifted you with when he returned to the marina! The carefully selected treasures. He always seemed to know which new object would earn an excited squeal from you because of its sparkles or funky shape. Whispers at bedtime of now fictitious-sounding tales on how he acquired them. To you, his trips were like storybooks. Too embarrassing to admit, you used to go to sleep late into your teens with visions of exploration dancing in your head. Dreaming of the uncharted waters and cloudy faces of the friends you'd make. He'd promise to you, that you would soon be old enough to explore the world with him.

But you couldn't truly treasure the last retelling of his adventures because no one foresaw he would leave it on a cliffhanger. He never came back. Your mother forbade you from speaking of his expeditions as time passed. "Don't go towards the beyond." "This is your home." "You're safe here." she chided. Here, on land. The hope soon ended with the stories. You grew accustomed to the familiar. You were raised here. It's all you have known. Is it worth it to leave at this point?

However, there are instances when you fall back into childlike wonder. In the quiet lulls, similar to the brink of falling asleep, you can't help but contemplate what else the waters hold past their horizons.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

A faint, muffled tune begins inside and wafts out into the silence. The merry-sounding song envelops you. You blink out of the reverie to adjust your vision in the darkness.

You can hear the pub's piano, in desperate need of a tuning, as you push open the door. A gaggle of men are singing a sea shanty in the dining space. They look disheveled but have dancing smiles. You can't help grinning as you watch these men celebrate life.

“Just docked," Gwen, your co-worker, calls from over her shoulder. She fills up two cups and then slides them over the bar top towards one of the waiting men. He slaps a few coins down and moves back to the crowd, like rejoining a school of fish.

Gwen wipes up the liquid he left, “I heard one of them holler that they came in from the Carribean.”

“I feel like that's only the third ship from around there this season."

"How do you manage to even keep track? There have to have been hundreds of vessels that have passed through here."

You blushingly shrug at her knowing smirk. Teasingly, her fingers reach out to flick at your slightly tarnished necklace. A chain made from Spanish silver with a locket bearing some type of ruby gem.

Leonardo was the one who had graced you with this last year. He was a buccaneer. He and his crew docked in town for a fortnight. He was charming and proud. In the tavern, he was always drunkenly boasting about the treasures he had found. The people he'd fought. The Lords he'd impressed. The people he'd fucked. He was so fun.

When your birthday happened around the time he was in town, he came stumbling into the bar with this necklace. He said it was nothing and that he had dozens of more valuable findings in a chest on board his ship. But he never showed you to prove that to be true. However, you did thank him ever so graciously that night.

He sailed out a day later. No harbor was his home. You're used to this life working as a bartender in a popular trading port. You see hundreds of thousands of faces. All of these handsome men ranged from sailors to buccaneers. They all share with you the amazing stories of their lives. They fascinated you. Inspired you. Seduced you. - You can't help but be attracted to the rugged, good-looking, and ambitious type.

A man unexpectedly calls out from the crowd towards the pair of you. His voice grabs your attention like a Siren's song. There were too many bodies to place where it was coming from in the mass of people, but you swear you briefly saw a hand in the air on the left side of the room.

“My lovely bar maidens, a round of your finest ale, please, yeah?"

“Right away, sir,” you nod curtly while pivoting obediently to fill the dregs.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

The rosy-cheeked, rowdy men cheer even louder as you approach with their fifth round of booze. Their attention has been won, not by the promise of refreshments, but by the beer sloshing over the rims and onto the pair of bouncing breasts carrying it all.

Low whistles scatter around the table at your cleavage while you lean over to set down the ale. Mucky hands grabbing for the foaming tankards. You catch a handsome man staring through the limbs. He gives you a dimpled smirk. His eyes betray him as they glimpse down to what you can assume is your chest. Well, he's no better than any man.

Your retreating form hears the same voice from before exclaim, “Here is to another voyage through uncharted waters! I am grateful for all your hard work, boys. And thanks to Grimsby for laying off the scolding because we're three days past schedule."

You're back at the bar. A crewmate, with a red kerchief pushing back his straw-yellow hair, heaves an overfilled mug in the air toward the handsome man,

"And a special thanks to our Captain, whose mother would keel over from learning the adventures her dear boy has taken us on. Prince Eric!"

"Prince Eric," they unanimously cheer!

Together, as they collide their drinks, fat drops of the golden liquid splash onto Prince Eric's tunic and wet his chest. The strings of his shirt are untied. Making the neck loosely hang open with his chest hair on full display. Your eyes are drawn to it. Tracing the outline of his defined pecs through the thin fabric. You're no better than a man. Worst yet, he notices you staring. His stare seems to darken, and he motions his mug towards you as a 'cheers' gesture before returning focus to his companions.

Clearing your throat and dirty mind, you turn back to tend to one of your regulars, a local fisherman slumped over on a stool at the end of the bar.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

Eric strides over as you scrub up the beer rings on the bar, left by the patrons who previously occupied the empty stools. He fluidly pulls one out to sit and drums his fingers along the wood. Blue eyes staring you down for a third time tonight,

"Can I get you anything?”

“I think I should take a breather. My crew is too enthusiastic to get me drunk.”

“Sounds like you're having a bad night." He threw back his head and let out a loud laugh. Admittedly, it was too big of a reaction to that poor joke attempt. You wring out your rag into a nearby bucket to hide your smile.

You wait for a beat before sparing him another glimpse. He’s staring at your chest again. You feel the exposed skin warm under his look. You’re tempted to peek down to see how much this corset is causing you to spill out.

“Did you get it locally?

“Sorry?”

"The necklace," he half-gestures towards you.

You clasp at the pendant, "Oh, this."

He nods with his eyes fixed on your chest a moment longer before moving up to your face. His cheeks are flushed and eyes hooded, assumedly, from the pints he and his crew have slung back. You're moving toward him, holding out the chain to let him get a closer look.

“I think it’s from the Spanish Islands. A pirate passing through last season gave it to me.”

His large hand reaches out to replace yours. “It’s beautiful. I have an eye for treasures like this.”

He's so close like this. You watch his eyes flick around the locket, his fingers tracing over the gems, and the way his dark curls fall as he tilts his head to examine.

“Silly me to think anything else. Here I thought you were just checking out my chest.”

“Well, you do have wonderful tits," he absentmindedly states. He leaves you gaping as he pulls back.

"Thank you for letting me have a look. I'd be rather fond of that if I were you. That's a special gift."

"Y-yeah, but given to me by a not-so-special guy," you shrug.

You sense an awkward pause, but he watches you with a soft, dimpled smile. You motion towards the window out to the harbor, “Which one is yours?”

“The biggest one. Naturally.”

You stifle your giggle and notice a boat at the end of the port. Beautiful and massive.

“Wow, you weren't kidding. What's it like up there?"

"On the boat? You work in a marina. Have you ever been on one?”

“Oddly, no.”

He didn't hide his shock.

“I'm sorry. Are you telling me that summer lover could give you a necklace but decided not to show you his deck?”

“Something like that," you lean onto the bar, "How unfortunate for me, right?"

His hand strikes the top of the bar as he rises from the stool, causing you to flinch.

“Well, that simply just won't do! Do you want to come see mine?"

The lamplight and mischievousness dance in his eyes, "I can give you the grand tour.”

“Will you let me spin the wheel?”

"Only the most skilled helmsmen are allowed to touch," he pouts, then that damned smile graces his lips again, "but I think I may be able to bend the rules for you."

“I’m going on break,” you call to Gwen before following the handsome voyager outside.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

"And, this would be the Captain's quarters."

"Oh, Captain Eric?"

He sheepishly rubs at the back of his neck, "I don't particularly like going by titles. Makes me feel like I'm trying to say I'm more important than others. I swear by my men. We venture out for fun, but I'd be stuck at port without them."

"That is a very noble thing to say, Prince Eric."

"Come off it," he laughs while moving over to a table against one of the walls. Eric picks up what appears to be a rock. He turns the object in his hands before showing you.

"Fossilized sea stone. Found it off the coast of my home island."

He places the textured stone in your open palms. The unexpected weight of it doubles you over, but Eric catches you. His hand lingers on your hip.

He proceeds to tell you about the rest of his findings laid out on the surface. You love the way his face lit up. Making himself exhilarated with his own stories. You listen intently and let yourself live vicariously through his retellings.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

Eric locks an ornate chest up as you watch. Sitting on the table now cleared of his glories. “So, are you considered a sailor, explorer, or just a guy with a boat and a lot of time on his hands?”

Eric laughs, "The last one, for sure. Once I turned nineteen, my mother allowed me to venture out and sail with the crew. I've always loved the idea of discovering something new on my voyages. Whether it be places, possessions, or people."

He's moving into your space, "I am happy to have met you, Y/N."

"And I, you, Prince Eric."

"No titles here." He leans in with a hint of a grin in his whisper, "I forbid it."

"Oh, that sounds like a command, and I shall obey, Your Majesty."

He chuffs as you see his eyes drop to your necklace again. His fingers dance along the silver chain before exploring further and grazing over the top of your chest. He makes sure to peek up at you for some sort of permission. Silently, you put your hand over his own to guide him to grab a handful of your breast. Eric takes the cue and squeezes while closing the gap between you with a kiss that immediately heats up. Hands knead your breasts over your camisole-corset top.

"And here I thought you've been admiring my necklace all night. I feel scandalized," you tease while he kisses your neck.

"No, no, it is beautiful! But, these," His calloused hands give a reassuring squeeze, "are really lovely."

Hands quickly work to pull down your blouse to expose your tits. Eric rolls a nipple between his forefinger and thumb. Gasping, you arch up into his touch. Legs instinctively spread wider to allow him in. You feel his dick twitch the moment he presses closer.

A moan growls in the back of his throat as he rolls his hips. Grinding his hard-on into your wetting core while you kiss. Your skin grows hot, his breaths come heavy, and the heat is building between your legs. 

Eric put his mouth to your breast, sucking at your skin in obscene, open-mouthed kisses. Eliciting a low keening sound from you. He withdrew just enough to lave at your nipple, back and forth, over and over, until your pussy thrummed to the same beat.

"Is it very unprincely of me to tell you that I would very much like to fuck you right here, now, in my chambers?"

"You are but a man, my Prince."

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

Your body was thrown across the desk. You don’t know where to put your hands, so they grip and scrape at the wooden surface while Eric fucks into you.

He has a firm hold on your naked waist. Keeping your long skirt hiked up to your stomach so he could watch himself penetrate you. He has a brutally harsh pace going. The delicious feel of the drag and pull of his cock.

Eric braces himself on the desk. A toned arm flexes next to your head. His face is now closer to yours as he changes the angle of his hips. With the newfound support, you feel him speed up his thrusting. He groans into your chest. Playfully biting a nipple before kissing up to your neck. His movements were enough to bring you dangerously close to reaching your high in only a few minutes.

"Oh, Prince Eric," you whine.

"Fuck." His hips stutter. "What's my name?"

"Captain Eric. Eric. Eric. "

A wave of bliss hits you and you screw your eyes shut. It doesn’t take long before both of you reach your orgasms. You hold onto Eric's biceps with all your might, as you scream his name. No doubt loud enough for everyone in the tavern to hear.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

At dawn, you're re-dressed and carefully creeping over the creaky floorboards. Trying not to wake any of the still-drunk crewmates who had found their way back onto the ship.

Catching your eye, the silver locket, sat on the once-empty desk, glints in the daybreak. Eric's back rises and falls. The rest of his bare body is covered by the messy bedsheets. Blissfully oblivious of your exit.

You let that sleeping form be your final image of the handsome Prince and disembark the Royal ship.

[weirdwyvern]

Collection of observations so far on Pokémon Legends: Z-A

It'd be reasonable to assume that PLZA is going to be based around the same time period as Haussmann's renovation of Paris, a major public works initiative focused on city modernization (by the day's standards). This included taking down a lot of medieval neighborhoods and replacing them with avenues, squares, and parks, as well as installing extensive water-based features such as sewers, aqueducts, and (of course) fountains. Haussmann was eventually dismissed bc he was being way too extravagant with spending (along with other political stuff etc etc), but the modern-day layout of central Paris still directly echoes his designs.

The renovation period lasted from 1853-1870, which would put PLZA in roughly the same timeframe as PLA; the Meiji Restoration (also called the Meiji Renovation, ironically) began in 1868.

However, the aesthetics they've chosen for the announcement trailer are giving me pause. Though the drafting/sketching portion certainly has an old-timey feel to it, the use of a holographic, wireframe style to show the city feels markedly futuristic. In addition, one of the humans we see (the woman sitting at a table next to a Klefki) appears to be using a smartphone. Whether or not we're gonna have another Arc Phone situation has yet to be seen.

This could just be a way of expressing "here's what Lumiose is PLANNED to look like far in the future, and this game is going to be focused on building towards that future." As there was a "Not actual gameplay footage" disclaimer at the beginning there, we can assume that nothing shown in the trailer is necessarily going to appear in-game – tho I'd imagine at least some of the models are going to be utilized (two birds, one stone).

With how Pokémon has played around with ancient/futuristic dichotomies (Unova, Paldea) and time travel (Alola, Hisui, and…many others tbh) in the past, though, it'd be interesting if PLZA wound up being a futuristic isekai to complement the distant-past adventure of PLA.

All that said, if PLZA is set in the past: We are all but certainly going to see young (or at least younger) AZ.

Very interested in this logo! Presumably it's comparable to that of the Galaxy Team, though unlike that one, it doesn't share much resemblance to the logo of its region's future evil team (Team Flare). The most similar organization logo we've seen thus far would be that of the Aether Foundation.

The only theory I have at present is that it could potentially be related to Diancie, which was first introduced in Kalos. The logo could be a stylized version of the incomplete ring & glittering gem around its neck.

Adjacent to that: I get the feeling that the Anistar City Sundial is going to have some level of importance to the plot. In XY, the Sundial allows the player to upgrade their Mega Ring + locate more Mega Stones throughout the region. As the Mega Evolution symbol was prominently displayed at the end of the presentation, we may get to learn some more about it and its origins – especially that bit about how it supposedly descended from space.

Other assorted notes:

We may get to see Camphrier Town – or, at least, Shabboneau Castle – during its heyday!

The A in PLZA's logo shares a similar construction to the marking on Xerneas' chest. It also has a plantlike pattern on it, which would connect to Xerneas' ability to induce life/growth…or it could be interpreted as a veinlike pattern, which would connect to Yveltal's design. It could also be completely unrelated to the Aura Trio lmao

I want to see Emmet so bad. Put both of those muppets in situations. Also I want double battles back please I'm begging and pleading stop making me fight 3+ enemies with only one Pokémon on my side–

[spacemonkeysalsa]

Appetites

Five years ago the Vampire Ascendant Astarion helped save Baldur's Gate. He has everything he ever wanted, and he's miserable.

Isolde is nobody, and has nothing. When given the option to become a vampire spawn, her response gives Astarion a moment of pause; “No. Thank you. I think I’ll just die.”

(Angst and fluff and smut) Changed up the format because it was starting to look so silly with 20+ chapters.

Check it out on Ao3 from the beginning or jump into chapter twenty below the cut.

On reflection, going to Figaro’s to track down Leon in hopes that Aurelia and Isolde would be with him was foolish—he’d only gotten lucky that they were even there—but now that he had the strange entourage with him, he wasn’t entirely sure what the point had been. Yes, he needed help to figure out what to do next. And, yes, that would involve a certain amount of thoughtful objectivity. And, yes, they weren’t quite so close to the matter as he was, so it made sense to consult them.

But.

This felt awful.

They were all… looking at him.

Like they didn’t know how to feel.

In the case of Isolde, it struck him that she was probably just a little overwhelmed. Perhaps she also had some complicated feelings about her brother resurfacing after all this time. Alternatively, with Leon and Aurelia, he sensed at least a portion of their conflicted feelings probably came from a small sadistic desire to see him suffer the consequences of his actions.

Then, Aurelia asked if he regretted it. Regretted her. Regretted the choice he had allowed her to extract Leon from the torments of hell. He’d misjudged them. They weren’t enjoying watching him squirm. They were worried. If not for his own sake, then for theirs.

He couldn’t exactly bring himself to say that he was sorry he’d dragged them into this. He wasn’t. And that view of it felt reductive, to say the least, even if it had reflected how he actually felt. But, the fact that it even crossed his mind was interesting. It seemed like the kind of thing a much simpler, more annoying person would think about.

What do I do? He wanted to ask them, but he couldn’t, so instead he just marched back to the palace, waiting for someone to tell him what to do.

Approaching the palace, he felt the decided sensation of paranoia flit across his mind. A kind of extra sensory warning that there were more people inside than when he’d left. Within seconds of entering through the doorways, he focused. Could he hear them? Smell them?

He did hear something. Raised voices, so it hardly counted.

It seemed there was some kind of congregation in the ballroom. Behind his back, the others got rather quiet. Only Isolde stayed close enough that he could her hear breathing and the faint thump of her little heart.

The ballroom door was cracked open. Through the sliver, he saw something glint, then he caught the smell of dog. Dogs weren’t allowed in Baldur’s Gate.

The dog barked.

It wasn’t just any beast.

Astarion greeted Scratch just a few feet past the ballroom doors, “Oh, look who it isn’t?!” he hadn’t even gotten a good look at him yet, and the dog had closed the distance between them. 

Scratch looked a little different from last he’d seen him. Older, but no less spry—if anything there was more enthusiasm in the familiar way he threw his head into Astarion’s palms  as he patted him and ran his fingers through the white fur around his strange gith harness. Astarion scrunched up his ears, admiring his accessories. Lae’zel appeared to have outfitted him with all the best in canine armor. His claws were fixed with terrifying silver caps, and there was a not insignificant amount of psionic energy detectable in the gems of the silver harness he wore. “No doubt infested with astral flees!” Astarion scolded the dog, only then noticing that the dog’s master, Lae’zel, was also in the room. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Lae’zel stood in the ballroom, hand flinching towards her sword, keeping a dark sliver in the corner of her eye: Shadowheart.

The Sharran Mother superior, the Chosen of Shar. She stood with her channeling rod, disguised as a parasol, wrung between white knuckled hands. But this was the only thing that gave away her anxiety, in every other way, she was the picture of dark serenity.

Alice was there too—just to his right, and looking very ill, indeed, the small child with her was practically holding her up. Astarion did a double-take at the child. He didn’t know him, but he appeared to be a very young, golden-skinned githyanki.

“What’s all this?” Astarion demanded.

When no one answered him, he looked up to make eye contact with Lae’zel first, then Shadowheart, but the too of them both appeared too distracted to so much as face him. They were both a little slouched. Tense. Undoubtedly looking at each other more than anyone else in the room.

Finally, he turned back to Alice, clenching his jaw to school his exasperation. 

“I was going to tell you,” Alice looked absolutely terrible, and sounded worse when she spoke. He recognized that look, that feel. She was drained. Empty. He flickered an accusing glare over at Shadowheart, who didn’t seem to notice.

“Then it was so easy not to.” Alice patted the gith child’s head with a limp hand. “Ommelum told me that you’d brought him the egg in the first place, so as his previous caretaker—”

“His—what!?” an intense cold washed over Astarion. Not a cold like chilled water or wind, but something aching, something familiar. It was the feeling he’d had when they went into the Shadowfell, and as his eyes found the gith child again, he realized that they looked about five years old. It definitely could not be a coincidence. just shy of six years  ago, he’d found the forsaken egg.

Lae’zel had insisted it would never hatch. She’d had it with her when they went into the Shadowfell, and seemed to have concluded that this incident of interplanar travel was too much for it. She’d forgotten about it, but Astarion remembered, and delivered it to the Society of Brilliance himself.

“That’s Egg?! They actually managed to hatch a child from that?”

“Oh good, you remember,” Alice sighed, more of her weight crushing the wide-eyed child beneath her.

Of course he remembered, and now that she said something, he even remembered vaguely thinking that it was still warm to the touch as he closed his coat around it to take it from the Elfsong Tavern where he’d found it all the way to the Society of Brilliance. So, in a way, he had been the last person to handle it in their group but— “Caretaker?!” —you couldn’t go that far, could you?

“I’ve been keeping him here a few days. He’s been fairly unobtrusive, all things considered,” Alice confessed, voice still monotone and weak, like she thought she needed to get it all out before death took her.

Days? How could he have not noticed? He was sensitive to heartbeats and his hearing was excellent—the child was rather small, but he should have noticed something. As he looked around the ballroom at the others, he noted with mounting rage that absolutely no one else seemed shocked by this information. Isolde in particular, wore a slight blush, but showed no emotion besides. “Did you all, just know?!”

“Yes,” Leon answered reflexively.

“You’ve been alive less than half a day!” Astarion whirled around to get a look at his subtly smirking human face.

“Astarion.”

It was like someone had tugged at the hair on the back of his head. Her voice slithered into his ear, suggestive and cold and dripping with that pull towards nothingness. He immediately forgot all anger towards his rebellious household and instead snapped his attention over to Shadowheart.

“Shadowheart, old girl,” he replied to her without hardly parting his teeth.

If she was using that voice on him, allowing her gifts to enhance it, this must be serious, “Let me take the child. I’ll see to it he’s well cared for.”

The Chosen of Shar looked utterly still, and calm, aside from that grip on her parasol, and a slight manic glint in her eye.

Astarion took a moment.

It was clear that there was more going on here than he understood, but he could safely guess that Shadowheart’s investment in the child probably had something to do with her goddess’ agenda, rather than whatever latent desires to be a mother Shar hadn’t taken away from her yet. Looking at the child again, nothing stood out to him about the little creature besides that he looked quite scared and about as confused as Astarion felt.

“I sent a message out to your friend, Lae’zel,” Alice leaned into view, shifting her body so that Astarion was looking more at her than the child in her embrace, “no idea how she heard about any of it.” That Alice could infuse her words with any indication of any emotion at all was impressive, but the way she accused Shadowheart with a cock of her chin betrayed the deepest suspicions.

“It doesn’t matter,” Shadowheart said and Astarion didn’t want to listen to her. Not when her voice was so thick with Shar’s oppressive mantle. “Lae’zel is in no position to care for a child. She’ll probably just throw him to the first batch of hatchlings his own age, and he’ll be eaten alive.”

Probably true, Astarion had to acknowledge—but, no, was it? Was Shar working him, even now? Lae’zel was much more critical of her people and their ways than she had been, and certainly moreso than any other githyanki. Wasn’t she spending more time with the githzerai these days anyway?

But, regardless, why should he care? He cut Shadowheart with what he hoped was a sharp glance. She was trying to appeal to his sense of what would be best for the child. A child he hadn’t even known existed until moments ago. 

“You know it’s true.” Far from being cut, Shadowheart caught his eye and held it, unblinking.

“He has a certain amount of catching up to do,” Lae’zel finally spoke, her voice a low gravelly warning, “I will certainly not abandon him to the kind of upbringing I knew, when he is not ready for it. He will have my full attention and tutelage. He should know his people.”

That was a good point, he had to admit. Again, only in the scenario that he actually was in a position to make any kind of decision about the child. Just because he’d been harbored at the palace didn’t make him Astarion’s ward or something, did it? “Well, what does Egg have to say about it?” he finally demanded.

He’d hoped that this would simply redirect the energy away from him for a moment so that he could have a little think about what he should do, and how involved he already was, and whether or not he really had to be—but at this simple (arguably very reasonable) question, half the room began to shout at once.

“—Why can’t I stay here?—” Egg was at least the one person who technically had the floor, so Astarion didn’t begrudge him trying to speak up.

“—He still doesn’t even understand that he’s not going to be abandoned again—” Alice tried to speak for him, but could barely be heard over Lae’zel and Shadowheart.

“—His name will not be Egg!” Lae’zel declared, pointlessly.

“—powers beyond human will are at work, we can’t simply ignore that.”

So, he was right then. Shar did have some investment in the child.

Gods. He hoped it didn’t have anything to do with the egg coming with them into the Shadowfell.

Oh dear. That was definitely why, and he didn’t want to think on the implications.

The gith child appeared healthy, if a little neglected. His clothing had probably fit him properly about six months ago, which translated to far too many inches in barely-more-than-an-infant years. Shadowheart should definitely not be allowed to just wisk the child away, but he wasn’t sure Lae’zel should either. At least, not until he knew more about what the creature was doing in his house in the first place. Why hadn’t the Society of Brilliance been able to hang onto him?

“Huh,” Astarion drew out an unneeded breath to waste a few more seconds in contemplation. “Seems Egg is content to stay put, and I don’t have a problem with that, for the moment. He’s quiet and unobtrusive, apparently. What was that about powers beyond human will, Shadowheart? Do you mean to tell me that Lady Shar has an interest in a young githyanki child?”

Shadowheart’s measured answer was likely more revealing than she intended, “I am saying that it isn’t for any of us to decide his fate, when the gods themselves are involved.” 

That was a ‘yes’ then.

“Thayans are also involved,” Lae’zel revealed, and Astarion didn’t even have a moment to be properly unsettled by that before she added, “You may not want to keep him here, if it means they’ll come looking for him.”

It was time for Shadowheart to stand down. “She’s making better points than you.”

From the hard look Shadowheart tried not to give him, he could tell he’d struck a nerve. “You can’t honestly think that githyanki care about the well-being of children? They barely raise them in the first place. It’s just a clutch of eggs, then a gaggle of toddlers who kill each other off until a few lucky ones mature to something like adulthood and run off to die for glory in their never-ending wars.”

As Shadowheart spoke, Astarion could only watch Lae’zel, her rage burning hotter with each word, “better he struggle and learn to value his own life in the preservation of it, then be compelled to forget and give up on everything in his head and his heart, for the benefit of a greedy, pernicious goddess, who’s only pursuit is her own self aggrandizement at the expense of everything else in all the planes.”

Now, he had to watch Shadowheart react to these words.

For what felt like too long, she didn’t.

Then, all at once, she snapped.

“Grovel,” Shadowheart commanded.

Astarion felt the spell pass over him, failing to bring him to his knees, but around him, everyone besides Lae’zel flinched and fell to the floor. He fell with them, feigning a direct hit. Leon, Aurelia, Isolde, Scratch, Alice, and Egg all lowered to the ground until their faces met the surface.

In spite of the fact that she hadn’t managed to subdue Lae’zel, Shadowheart made a bee-line for the gith child, clearly intending to just grab him and run.

Astarion pounced, one hand immediately finding purchase at the top of her throat, gripping her on either side of her jaw, while the other ripped the channeling rod away, snapping it in two with a satisfying crunch.

Astarion’s grip at Shadowheart’s jaw was bruising, but he wasn’t closing off her airway or her blood supply, just yet, instead, he had her at the bones. He dragged her away from the boy, away from the people she’d just attacked, hitting the wall of the ballroom, and on instinct he kept walking, kept dragging her, even as her weight dangled off his fingers.

When he’d pulled her acolyte up to the ceiling the other day, the room had been smaller, the ceiling closer to the floor, and he’d dropped her immediately, never intending to try and keep her suspended up there. His muscles strained, and he realized his grip probably wasn’t secure enough to keep this up for long, but sheer determination kept him from dropping her as they reached the ceiling.

His force of will crashed against Shadowheart’s, as she somehow managed to utter the verbal component, “Ira et Dolor!”

The burning fire of radiant, swirling figures should have been too much for him. He ought to have lost his concentration and dropped Shadowheart and even fallen himself from the ceiling, but the intense, blinding pain only seemed to solidify his shaking grip. He felt the silver-gold flame ignited in his own undead body tear through the fabric of his waistcoat, his shirt, striping the flesh of his chest with burns. He couldn’t let her stay conscious. She’d burn him to death in a minute, assuming he didn’t drop both of them. He shifted her weight against his hand, cutting off the blood to her brain and stifling her breath. It would only take seconds for her to pass out, but during those seconds, the radiant beings encircling them would continue to pummel him. It was a test of endurance for both of them, and he was determined not to come out the loser.

Just as it seemed that Shadowheart was at the point of going entirely limp, a shout from below preceded a crash of hard, angry silver against the broad side of his body, knocking him from his perch, so they both fell.

The radiant guardians vanished, and the burning stopped. Astarion landed in a crouch on the ground, next to stiff bang of Lae’zel silver sword, as it hit the ground beside him. Shadowheart, Lae’zel had caught in her arms.

The githyanki woman cradled her, gently, searching her face. Her jaw was tight. Her gaze found Astarion. She didn’t condemn him, but she didn’t thank him either. Slowly, she rose up, Shadowheart’s weight draped across her arms like it was nothing more than the garments she wore. “I’ll take her back to her cloister. Then, I’m coming for…” Lae’zel looked over her shoulder at the child, “we are not calling him Egg.”

“Don’t take her anywhere,” Astarion recommended. “We’ll lock her up here until we can get to the bottom of this.” He wasn’t sure why he offered it. The confrontation with Shadowheart rattled him. They’d always been rather friendly. And she’d struck first. Then again, of course she had. It was for Shar. And he never would have been stupid enough to attack her unprovoked. He still couldn’t believe she’d done that. If she was willing to use her powers against them, why not come back with a small army of acolytes?

As if reading his mind, Lae’zel shook her head. “Her people will come looking for her if she doesn’t return. If we can avoid a war with Sharrans…” she trailed off, voice heavy. He’d never heard Lae’zel sound so reluctant to enter a fight before. 

“We?”

“You’re the one who attacked her,” Lae’zel pointed out.

“And you’re the one who hesitated,” Astarion countered.

Lae’zel’s grip around Shadowheart’s body tightened visibly and she looked down at her face, upturned, and deceptively serene again. “Yes.”

He still wanted to argue the point. Sending Shadowheart back to her enclave to gather reinforcements seemed stupid—but Lae’zel had spent the last five years supposedly learning the finer points of diplomacy between some of the most stubborn and proud races in all the planes, so perhaps he ought to leave her to, hopefully, do what she did best. If she could stay with Shadowheart until she awoke, and speak with her, maybe she would listen.

But would Shar?

As Astarion watched her carrying Shadowheart out of the ballroom, whistling to call Scratch after them, he rose up—the radiant burns he suffered keened, angered by his insolence at daring to move before he could heal.

Isolde was in front of him in an instant, fully recovered from Shadowheart’s spell, eyes glassy, breath short. She stopped short of putting her hands on him, her dark eyes searching the angry red marks he could feel on his face, and his hands. He looked down and found charred bits of fabric fused to his flesh across his chest.

“Where do you keep your potions?” Isolde asked in a voice that was much more composed than her trembling lips and wet eyes.

He was about to say that Alice knew where they were, but past her, he saw Alice lying on the ground, breathing, but clearly not awake, the gith child was still holding onto her, looking rather helplessly around the room at the strangers. 

“My study has a small stash in that ugly bronze credenza. Get one for Alice too.” Astarion asked.

Obediently, Isolde was gone before he could say anything else.

Leon and Aurelia had stayed on the floor where Shadowheart put them as well, but were at least sitting up, shaking themselves a little. Aurelia’s tail whipped anxiously behind her as she watched the gith child inch closer and closer to tears.

“She’ll be alright,” Aurelia tried to assure him.

Astarion approached the child to get a better look. He moved slowly, both to avoid exacerbating his burns and in areas not to start the child shouting or crying.

“I didn’t do it,” said the child in a strangely pleading voice, his little hands in fists. “I didn’t. It wasn’t me.”

“We all saw what happened,” Astarion regarded the child, halting his approach. “It was that ridiculous half-elf.”

“Everyone always thinks it’s me,” his wet eyes stared down at Alice.

“Oh dear,” Astarion sighed, the only real option he had forming itself into a plan. At least this felt like a problem that he could understand, a little. At least it was just gith and Sharrans, and maybe Thayans, apparently? Not devils. Not vampires. Still, it was a distraction he probably couldn’t afford.

Isolde returned with the potion and once the burns on his flesh stopped throbbing, it was a little easier to think.

Once Alice was awake, he was determined. “Right. I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?” Isolde was the one who asked, but they all had the question in their faces.

“Just a short flight to the Society of Brilliance and back,” Astarion explained, “then I’ll tell you everything I know about,” he waved a hand vaguely at the gith child, who was a little soothed now that Alice’s eyes were open again. “It’s clear I don’t have the whole story, and I think I should.” He focused on his bat form, but didn’t feel the change.

Perhaps the potion hadn’t worked quite right? Was he still recovering? But that errant thought didn’t hold him—he’d managed to transform while injured before.

All at once, it felt like a clawed hand gripped the center of his chest, and squeezed. A horrible tightened began at his core, spreading out through all his veins like the branches of a tree of a trunk that was about to crack and split open. Tingling pain rushed through him, so spread out and so intense in some places that he couldn’t immediately focus on where it was the worst.

He must have cried out, he must have doubled over himself. Why else were the others screaming his name? Asking him what was wrong? What was happening.

What was worse? The tips of his fingers, where each nail was bursting, growing into thick, heavy, tapered claws? The base of his spine where he felt a sickening shift, the bones popping and changing position as they stretched? His skin everywhere churned like he was on fire again, but in particular down his spine and then concentrated at the center of his back?

No. It was the head. His head was in agony. He felt two points just above his temples prickle, then split as something shot out. He would have cried out, but the pain made him clench his jaw shut so tight that he started to feel his teeth crack—and his teeth were changing too.

It was like his animal transformations, but slow and heavy, and drawn out, and somehow it was like all of them at once where trying to take control of his body.

Then, he felt the unmistakable sensation of wings bursting forth at the usually blunted sides of each shoulder blade. A tail whipped out behind his back, and the horns on his head weighed him down. His clothing was shredded around him. He looked at his hands, drew his wings and his tail around his body to see, and felt the tips of his pointed horns.

“Oh, gods, Astarion!” Aurelia managed to exclaim her shock first.

Alice had moved several feet back and was covering the gith child’s eyes.

Leon appeared too stunned to speak.

Isolde had stayed close, trying to keep a hold of him, but he must have pulled free of her, given how she was partly fallen besides him, looking up at him  with her mouth parted and her eyes disbelieving, the smallest, almost imperceptible shake of her head giving away her moment stranded in denial.

Astarion let out a breath and tried to forget the pain, tried to push away the moment of fear. He gathered what little dignity he could, cracked his neck and said. “Well. It seems Mephistopheles’ gift has been revealed.”

A devil form.

Could be a gift. Except.

Astarion focused on his animal forms, one by one, but felt the loss of them, a sense of disconnect plummeting into his soul. He could almost hear the laughter of the archdevil in the back of his mind.

It would almost be a gift, if he hadn’t lost the others. 

And, if he could manage to change back.

[emblemxeno]

Xenoblade 1 DE Main Story/Game Thoughts

Finished the main story! I didn't go full completion but I got full affinity for all areas and saw every Heart-to-Heart. More detailed thoughts-including spoilers-under the cut!

-For starters, DE is a great update to the original. Many QoL improvements trims the extra menu time down a lot (inventory management, art books, equipment/gems, etc.), especially swapping gems. Also hell yes to including the appearance feature from X, as someone who prefers the default outfits for everyone!

-Same applies to battle stuff and general gameplay. Quest tracking, gauges on things like Break and Topple, clearer status effects, chance arts being highlighted, even something as small as the scroll between Talent Arts/Running/Chain Attacks being more streamlined had many great returns on me not pressing the wrong thing.

-However... why did they not just go all the way with more changes? The two big ones that come to mind are trading and Colony 6 collecting. First, why can you not bulk trade? It is such a time sink having to constantly open the menu again and again. And since trading and skip travelling share a button, I clocked probably over a hundred instances of opening the damn map menu instead of trading since there's a second of cooldown before the option appears for the NPC again! It's an annoyance that is easily ignored once or twice, but absolutely brutal after the tenth time.

-Jumping ahead a bit, but I speak not just criticizing DE but XC1 as a whole. It's probably an unpopular opinion but I don't like the ongoing Colony 6 reconstruction sidequest. The first time I completed it-about half a decade ago I think-was magical! Seeing a ruined home blossom into a lively city due to my hard work was something I'll never forget as an RPG fan. But I don't have that kind of time on my hands anymore (or I simply have better management of time now that I don't stay up til 4 am playing video games anymore lol). Exploring Bionis and Mechonis is an undeniably wondrous and beautiful experience, but only when doing normal quests (well most of the normal quests) and progressing the story. Jogging around places trying to find each item is incredibly unfun and tedious. The big offenders are typically Ice Cabbages (luckily I got all the ones I need by playing through the Valak portion of the story), Rainbow Slugs (I spent an entire hour on the Fallen Arm ugh), and the Black Liver Beans. The last one was the breaking point, I can't stand the Bionis Interior and after an hour in there just trying to find one, I said fuck it and did the Time Attack trials to get them that way. It was just not... good! I don't like it a bit.

-Last thing on DE specifically, I found that the graphics are apparently controversial among fans? I'm understanding of the position, as there's definitely a charm that the original artstyle had, especially being on the Wii. But to me the original has more issues in its visuals than just being a different artstyle. Poor resolution, blocky models, souless faces when not in an important cutscene, absolutely diabolical pop-in. And some say that the original gave its characters more personality during cutscenes, which... I don't get whatsoever. Did we watch the same scenes, cuz it's very hard to distinguish emotion in the original, whereas DE has better mouth, eyebrow, and facial movements. Certain scenes may "look" more emotional in the original, but things get exaggerated all the time to compensate for poor resolution or graphics.

-Now on to the just XC1 in general! Holy fuck the main cast is better than I remember. Shulk, Fiora, and Melia were already my favorites, but honestly... Dunban is probably my absolute favorite out of all of them now. His story is just so succinct and he's just so cool and hot and kind and just ughhhhhh!

-Egil is still best villain in the game, no surprise. Revisiting this game honestly made it really fucking clear why I loved Dimitri from 3H so much cuz the two are so similar (to the point where you can pull line's from the game about Egil and put them in 3H). The others fair less well. Metal Face/Mumkhar is delightfully hammy and an amazing threat for the first half of the game, but is as deep as a puddle. Dickson and Lorithia I found I dislike even more, for the wrong reasons; they lack charisma, and it's noticeable in places where the game gets really anime in its hammy villainy, but they're written and played a bit too straight for it to come off as anything other than lackluster. Though at least Dickson has presence as Shulk's caretaker and the guy who everyone knows and respects; Lorithia though? Throw her away. Honestly if Yumea took her place and retained the bigotry against Homs it'd be much more entertaining IMO.

-Zanza himself is a definitive mixed bag. Were I ignorant to Klaus' entire story from XC2, I'd honestly write him off as a by-the-numbers arrogant (but secretly imperfect and prone to "human" folly) god figure that happens in many, many RPGS. But I can't dislike him because I do know the entire story, and Zanza being an utter dickwad is explained in great detail and makes sense. Honestly, he does work for the story that XC1 is telling without playing XC2 as well, but ehhh. I guess it's just really difficult to be the main villain after Egil does such great things in a limited time.

-Narrative is great, just as it was the first time I played. Highlights for me:

Singlemindedly fighting for revenge is destructive not just to your enemies, but to yourself and your friends. Ignorance and unwillingness to look beyond your own world or history means you may be hurting innocent people without realizing it. Chaining your life to the deaths of others rather than supporting the survivors is unhealthy and can lead you down a path of misery and disaster.

Ether is not just analogy for carbon/other base elements in our world. Philosophically it's analogous to light and fate as well. Shulk unlocks the Monado's powers when he stops treating it as a tool with functions, but rather as an extension of his will. He wills his wishes into his heart, and they are made manifest. He protects Reyn with Shield not cuz the Monado lets him, but because he desired it. Same with Sharla and Speed, and it's how Alvis taught him to unlock Purge. It's how he resists Apocrypha, and later gains Cyclone once the Apocrypha is destroyed. His will is so strong, it becomes resistant to Zanza's influence, hence why he starts suffering the more he learns of Mechonis' history. The truth being brought to light is painful internally and externally, as Zanza physically rejects anything that challenges how he sees the world. Shulk brings himself back to life, begins having visions without Zanza, and gains his own Monado-which looks purely made of ether and light-through pure willpower and the desire to create his own future.

Shulk's duality and inner turmoil when he realizes his yearning for revenge is destructive; Fiora's endless strength of heart when dealing with a machine body and carrying on Meyneth's wishes; Melia going through hell and back trying to find a balance between her sense of self and sense of duty (I imagine Future Connected is gonna touch on that more as well); Dunban grappling with his moniker of being a hero and mentoring the party despite being imperfect and lamenting his disability; Reyn's goal of being a protector developing into being a supporter once he becomes insecure over his strength and character compared to Shulk; Sharla trying to keep hold onto a sense of hope that her love is alive before coming to terms with the fact that she needs to cherish her life and love those within it; Riki just being the fucking best dad and friend in the world.

Having played XC2 and XC3 makes all these things even richer as well.

-Last but not least, gameplay:

-Most quests are good. Most. The generic quests weren't ever fun for me, and they cause significant bloat that could've been trimmed IMO. Especially since lots of quests ask you to kill monsters and collect items anyway.

-The method to get quests started though? Awful. I know that things like Community in Torna and Field Skills in XC2 are hated, but man I can't stand having to change the clock and track the damn NPCs in XC1. Especially since there are many areas separated between towns/villages and "wild" areas (Colony 6 and Bionis Leg, Frontier Village and Makna, Alcamoth and Eryth + Valak), it just makes things so drawn out. Going back and forth, changing time and all that, is a sour point on this game.

-Like I said a few weeks ago, the Xenoblade series as a whole is unmatched in gameplay story telling. Beautiful and large environments make curious exploration a treat, especially as you start getting pieces to puzzles that can get completed later. I payed a lot more attention to the High Entia and Giant related sidequests due to the fascinating lore, for example.

-The fights are great, if a bit centralizing. Shulk, due to Monado arts, is the best character to have in the party and is sorely missed when switched out. I have pretty standard opinions on the rest of the characters, so no need to speak on each individually. I will say though, holy fuck is the AI just as bad as I remember. Shulk wastes his Monado gauge, Sharla is terrible at using arts and always puts herself into cooldown, and Melia for the love of god, stop firing elementals as soon as you summon them you're made of tissue.

Topple locking is deffo the prime strategy, cuz there were fights I wouldn't otherwise have won were it not for it, and thankfully Reyn and Dunban have pretty good AI.

Two major gripes though. Spikes are a terrible mechanic, gross. Second, I hate that the enemy tags affect accuracy, it makes certain quests extremely brutal to complete without grinding. And I just hate having to fight tough/overlevelled enemies as a whole, it becomes routine and simple after a while.

As a whole, I like the gameplay still, but it feels very restrictive going back to it after seeing all the crazy tricks I could do in 2 and 3. And also auto-attack arts > timer arts forever and ever.

-Overall a very great experience getting to replay this game like this. Though more rough points than I remember, and with certain things that have not aged well whatsoever , XC1 is still a good game that I'm glad introduced me to this series. I'm taking a break before playing Future Connected.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Beryl Coronet pt 2

We continue the tale of Mr Holder, who last time made an astonishingly bad sequence of decisions that ended in him accusing his son of theft and handing him over to the police.

And I definitely, in no way decided arbitrarily that other characters were guilty. There was evidence. I presented it.

Mary did fail the vibe check. Although I do sort of support her given that a) she was stealing from the state/the royal family, and it's not like they can't afford it b) apparently her uncle wants her to marry her cousin and c) I want her to break out of the conventional Victorian gentlewoman mould the narrative is painting her into.

Sure, if she's guilty, she's causing a national crisis, but really Bertie, Prince of Wales, did that already, she's just leading everyone else's dumb ideas to their inevitable conclusions. Can we really blame her for that?

Yes, we probably can. And it does seem likely that the (not at all an archfey) Sir George Burnwell may be manipulating her into it, which would detract from her agency in the matter.

I suppose it could still be Lucy the maid, but I still think it's more likely that Arthur is covering for Mary.

“She is of a quiet nature. Besides, she is not so very young. She is four-and-twenty.”

She is a baby.

Also, she doesn't go out and Sir George Burnwell has been around 'several times lately'. Yep.

But yeah, this does twist it more towards a 'Georgie has been manipulating and grooming a young sheltered girl' and less 'Mary is breaking out of her societal prison with a jewel heist.' Pity.

“Terrible! She is even more affected than I.”

Yeah, he took the jewels and ran off and left her.

Well, let's all hope he dies in a shipwreck.

"If his purpose were innocent, why did he not say so?” “Precisely. And if it were guilty, why did he not invent a lie?"

Guy's too damn honourable for his own good. Refuses to lie, refuses to condemn the woman he loves. It would be romantic if not for the whole... cousins sort of raised as siblings thing. She calls your father 'dad'... that's weird. Maybe not weird for the time. But it feels weird.

“What did the police think of the noise which awoke you from your sleep?” “They considered that it might be caused by Arthur's closing his bedroom door.” “A likely story! As if a man bent on felony would slam his door so as to wake a household."

I love how outraged Holmes is by this theory. The exclamation mark is perfect. Of course, the door might have been slammed by the wind, but then you wouldn't go and steal the gems immediately, you'd wait until you were sure people weren't getting up.

"Consider what is involved by your theory. You suppose that your son came down from his bed, went, at great risk, to your dressing-room, opened your bureau, took out your coronet, broke off by main force a small portion of it, went off to some other place, concealed three gems out of the thirty-nine, with such skill that nobody can find them, and then returned with the other thirty-six into the room in which he exposed himself to the greatest danger of being discovered. I ask you now, is such a theory tenable?"

I confess that the guilt of the banker's son appeared to me to be as obvious as it did to his unhappy father, but still I had such faith in Holmes' judgment that I felt that there must be some grounds for hope as long as he was dissatisfied with the accepted explanation.

Once you have jumped to a conclusion, any evidence to the contrary, no matter how ridiculous it may make your theory look, must be completely dismissed.

I'm not being fair. Caught holding the remains of the coronet is not a good look. But if they can't find the missing beryls, then clearly someone else must be involved at least.

Disregarding my presence, she went straight to her uncle and passed her hand over his head with a sweet womanly caress.

The phrase 'sweet womanly caress' upsets me on a fundamental level. But also it makes me really want Mary to be the villain of the piece. Like, I'm 90% sure that Burnwell has done a runner, but I want Mary to have set some part of this in motion just so she can scream and go a little feral, y'know, as a treat.

I kind of want her to catch up with Burnwell, maybe make sure the police catch him with one of the gems, then take the other two and go off on her own.

“But I am so sure that he is innocent. You know what woman's instincts are. I know that he has done no harm and that you will be sorry for having acted so harshly.”

Woman's instincts or... knowing he's innocent because you're the one who is guilty?

“You have a maid who has a sweetheart? I think that you remarked to your uncle last night that she had been out to see him?” “Yes, and she was the girl who waited in the drawing-room, and who may have heard uncle's remarks about the coronet.” “I see. You infer that she may have gone out to tell her sweetheart, and that the two may have planned the robbery.”

But why would Arthur protect the maid? Also, I feel like Mary is a little too eager to push the possibility of Lucy's guilt here. She adds that bit about the drawing-room all by herself. Yes, she seems concerned about Arthur, but still... she's very much been leaving all the breadcrumbs about Lucy.

Lucy makes sense as a suspect apart from why Arthur would be covering for her. Unless offpage they are having a romance, despite him having canonically proposed to Mary multiple times, then I just don't see that happening. But then we have also been told that canonically Mary dislikes Burnwell. There is clearly a secret romantic relationship somewhere in this tale. I'm inclined to think Burnwell (who has been noted as a wrong'un) rather than Lucy.

“Which key was used to open it?” he asked. “That which my son himself indicated—that of the cupboard of the lumber-room.”

If Mary locks up at night, she also has access to all the keys. Just saying.

“Then I will.” Holmes suddenly bent his strength upon it, but without result. “I feel it give a little,” said he; “but, though I am exceptionally strong in the fingers, it would take me all my time to break it."

Even Holmes, who once bent an iron poker back to straight again, cannot break off a part of the coronet on his own. So... struggle.

"I understand that you give me carte blanche to act for you, provided only that I get back the gems, and that you place no limit on the sum I may draw.”

Considering the sums of money involved in this story, I fear that Mr Holder is going to be left bankrupt even if he does recover the jewels. Buying them back might be the only way to recover them. But maybe he won't have to actually buy them, just pretend to be willing to buy them in order to lure Burnwell in. (I'm pretty sure Francis Prosper, the one-legged greengrocer is not involved, but I hope he and Lucy are happy).

He hurried to his chamber and was down again in a few minutes dressed as a common loafer. With his collar turned up, his shiny, seedy coat, his red cravat, and his worn boots, he was a perfect sample of the class.

And Holmes is in disguise again! Always fun to play dress up. I assume he is fact gathering in order to work out where Burnwell is and how to reach him to try to 'buy' the gems, but I have no idea why this particular disguise is the way to go.

I'm not sure how happily this can end, as the coronet itself has already been broken, so there is clear evidence of it having been tampered with. I fear that Bertie is going to have to have a little chat with his mother about this. Clearly it's going badly so far.

[diamondcrownacademy]

DCA Info Part 8: About Dorm Fairies

Diamond Crown Academy has vice dorm leaders but unlike Night Raven College they are NOT students.

They are called the Dorm Fairies. They are fairies who don't have a permanent form. They change their appearance based on the preferences of the current dorm leader.

They have been in the academy since it was built, so they are very wise and knowledgeable, and they have worked with plenty of dorm leaders in their years.

Each one has a fairy house located in the area in or near the dorm, dorm fairies don't live in the large tree at the main campus like the others.

Dorm fairies may be small but they are able to cast powerful magic spells using magic glyphs at such high speed, it would also be difficult to target them due to their small size advantage. Though they don't cast offensive spells unless it's an emergency but that rarely happens at the academy. They mostly use magic to aid in dormitory maintenance and some of them play small, harmless pranks on unsuspecting students and even staff.

Their appearance ties in with the fairy forming a bond when the dorm leader is appointed, the fairies form is decided through the girl's image they want to be perceived or childhood mementos that they cherish.

Dorm fairies honed their magic powers, becoming stronger overtime and learning new spells and hexes. Small spells are seen as sparkling glitter that only show up for a second before disappearing while their stronger spells come in the form of magic circles. The magic circles have sigils and patterns reminiscent of the dorm, the color also corresponds to the dorm.

Due to their bond with their respective dorm leaders, a small portion of their power is shared through the bond so the dorm leader can use a few of their spells but it burns so much energy that it'll cause the magic gem to blot faster. So, the spells are used as a last resort for emergencies.

[nico-the-overlord]

@swampthing07 here are the gemsonas and gosh..you can see how old they are but

^This was my attempt to make a design for an Alexandrite, a non-fusion version of her anyways (I never colored in the gem I didn’t know how to)

This was Moonstone, the sona I originally was talking of. Below is what I wrote on page written out cause it’s sorta hard to see (also spelling mistake fixing kind of). In brackets is just my addition commentary if you care to read.

(Top part) She is normally calm and wise representing the right side, but she can also get wild and crazy, representing the left side [I wrote this to be on her right/left and not mine for some reason…also think her hair was supposed to be in a thick braid but ofc I didn’t draw that]

(Left side, bubbled portions) Her crescent eyes can see both in the future and into other universes. [I was worried I was making her TOO much like Garnet with this ability so I added in that last part…good going me lmao]

Her gem, a moonstone, is her nose.

(Right side, bubbled portions) She is not a fusion, and is an extremely rare gem due to powers and eyes.

Her weapon of choice are moonstars- the white half can blind the victim while the black part slows them down, but only for a few minutes [I remember “slow down” meaning like slowing down time wise which would only affect the target it hit which…idk how a weapon works time like that but whatever]

(Left side, bottom part) Used to work for White Diamond, but soon joined the rebellion. Sadly, she went corrupt because she fuzed with Blue Topaz who was going corrupt at the time, but didn’t tell Moonstone because they were being attacked by a group of Homeworld gems. It was the only way to survive. [Basically Blue Topaz was ANOTHER character I wanted to make so Moonstone would have a friend…I never wrote or drew of them but I wanted to make them look like the yellow topaz that appear canonically in the show just blue to be different 😭]

(Right side, bottom part) She was then bubbled up for safety in the basement, but has since returned living her life with her companion Blue Topaz- another member if the rebellion. [Never explained how the Crystal Gems got ahold of her]

And I would be her!

[dinomanhammer1]

China Invests In Gold

In the event that in the past the Chinese citizens weren't allowed to possess an excess of gold, or if nothing else they were completely controlled starting here of view, nowadays it appears to be that the public authority urges individuals to buy the precious metal. Specialists attempted to find a clarification for this issue and investigated learn more what might the results at any point be on a global level.

China came as an extraordinary shock when in 2007 turned into the best gold producer in the entire world. This was on the grounds that the Asian nation just claims 7% of the entire stores of precious metal in the world. A few professionals however this could be explained by the way that China hasn't yet presented the wellbeing rules forced by the global organizations in what concerns the mining process. Likewise, the way that the public authority exceptionally urges individuals to purchase the precious metal prompted an increase in demand.

Specialists feel that the subsequent stage of the Chinese government is increasing the public gold stores. Truth be told every nation has part of its public stores in the precious metal as an assurance for potential credits. The more precious metal is holds, the more impressive the state is. What's more, we as a whole realize that China will turn into areas of strength for an and financial power in the whole world.

The prompt impacts of the frenzy for gold in China were essentially seen in the abrupt increase of its price. It is said that this is just a hint of something larger. The more Chinese individuals purchase the yellow metal, the more its price rises. Dollar's level can likewise be impacted by the Chinese want gold. Most investors in this nation decide to purchase the precious metals as bars. However the most complex ones buy gold sovereigns or gems.

Strangely, regardless of whether the expenses of work are at an extremely low level in China's mines, laborers invest all their money in the precious metal. It's undeniably true that India is the best purchaser of gold. In any case, as of late the Chinese public started to pursue the direction of the neighbor country and the demand for families increased quickly in the last timeframe. Specialists gauge that the gold claimed by the savers is about portion of that tracked down in the central bank of the Asian country. It is said that Chinese individuals are extremely shrewd. Presently they have proved to be shrewd investors as well.

[jaipurmorniusa]

Why You Need Jaipuri Cotton Kurtis USA in Your Closet

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[queerworldtravelers]

Brooklyn, New York

40°39'0”N and 73°56'59”W

So much has transpired since we last updated you all. In reflection we were in a cocoon, turning into mush, and then emerging. Our wings are still drying, but we made it. We landed on our feet in NYC and still have the strength to smile. For those who don’t know yet, Mary has transitioned her name to Oliver. We are also transitioning the blog to Tumbler. 

We can’t dive into NYC without sharing that a piece of our Volcano heart has transitioned to the next realm. Aunty Nona, the driving force behind our business, wedding celebration, and countless other social goods is no longer with us. She was fierce and we are so grateful for the opportunity to have spent time learning from her. She shared so many lessons and the most indelible: when working for the good of others sometimes things get in the way. When that happens you tell um “get out of my fucking way.” 

There is no place in the world like NYC. Truly. The Mother of Exiles stands in her harbor, the huddled masses yearn to breathe free on her sidewalks, and the wretched refuse - oh the wretched refuse that many of us descend from is inescapable. A dear east-coast friend said New Yorkers are not nice, but they are kind. We completely agree. 5 months has found us hazed, dropped to our knees, blessed, surrounded in love, amazed, disgusted, terrified, freezing, and dripping in sweat. This is a city of dramatic contrasts and the trick is to master your balance. Here is how we have done it so far:

NYC appears to be the first landing place for many folks coming to the United States for the first time. Returning to the US after selling everything and traveling abroad for an extended time pivots one to a place of great empathy for those just arriving. The internet will have you convinced you can’t get an address without a lease and in NYC you can get a lease without a salary 40X the rent (which is often $3K+ a month). We learned that you just have to be nice to the folks at the post office. With a PO Box secured (eerily similar to our Volcano PO Box number) our next stop was the NY Public Library. A complete gem in a city full of financial mirages. A NYC library card opens a Pandora's box of resources including free access to museums, career support, bathrooms, and more primary and secondary sources than we could ever even imagine. 

Hold the celebration for a minute. The city of immigrants also has hucksters and enforcements that will crash a reality in mere hours. You see, when we got to NYC we found a place to rent on Furnished Finders. Lots of hubbub about short term rentals being illegal, so we made sure the landlady lived in the building and we rented for longer than 30 days. All of that ended up being for not as we discovered, by way of a surprise visit by the NYC Department of Buildings, that our cozy little apartment was super illegal. We were 100% below grade. People have died in similar apartments throughout NYC by being trapped in fires and floods. We already experienced two floods in our short time. Our land lady tried to tell us we could stay. It was ok. Krystal did research and a guy on the phone said “DOB doesn’t work on the weekend, but they will be back on Monday to paste a physical vacate order.” Time to go! The Universe lined us up with friends who were headed out of town and needed a cat sitter and two younger girls looking for a 3rd roommate on Myrtle Ave. in the Hasidic neighborhood. We landed. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked. A month of sleeping in a room facing possibly one of the busiest streets in Brooklyn, tucked in the heart of a failing migrant resettling program, and next door to the Hasidic event center made for a really long month. After a bit of suffering we decided to take our dinner show on the road and enjoyed picnics throughout NYC in order to avoid total kitchen and home chaos. 

A result of some portions of our hazings granted us a free pass to Cornwall, Connecticut for a few nights. Unlike the majority of the United States in NYC you can reliably get places on the train. We hopped on a few and were whisked away to a sleepy New England hamlet. Steve, one of our hosts, was driving us around and said “this is where the missionary school was. There is the plaque.” Reading slowly we realized we, somehow, ended up in THE town where the ABCFM missionary originated. ABCFM were the missionaries who indoctrinated the Hawaiian Islands with Christinaity. It all started in, what is to this day, a tiny village. Totally freaked out, but not surprised by the synchronicity we headed to the local library for more information. We went to Henry ʻŌpūkahaʻia’s grave and marveled at just how small the world is. Note that his iwi (bones) have been returned to Napoʻopoʻo on the Island of Hawai’i. 

We made it through the dregs of shit because of many factors, but the most sassy was Hattie, the black cat. Hattie likes humans and we were grateful her humans trusted us to care for her while they were away. 

Speaking of humans - so many folks have come into our lives. New and old friends have been making their way through NYC and our hearts in the past few months. We have lots of space for guests now, so let us know if you are coming. We would love to see you! 

Why on earth would anyone put up with such righteous hazing? If for nothing else, the food. Tunisian dates in a Queens bodega are what inspired us to move here and the city has yet to disappoint. Georgia, Philippines, Albania, Sicily, Kosher, Bahrain…you name it there are folks in NYC making the food and speaking the language. 

Spring in NYC is pretty spectacular as well. The tulips, cherry blossoms, and hints of spring were really special. And we, as unsuspecting new New Yorkers, didn’t know that sweltering summer was right around the corner. So we really enjoyed the days as they slowly warmed.

Krystal has been busy digging for family records in the NY Public Library Picture Collection and was happy to find originals of some images showing where her great grandmother was handed over to nuns in Palermo. This inspired a fellowship application that was not granted. We are just not NYC enough yet. The concentration of 8 million people pushes human creativity to the absolute edge in order to stand out. We are getting there! 

She also landed a job as the Associate Director of School and Teacher Programs at the Museum of Jewish Heritage in Battery Park. She overlooks Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty while attempting to navigate an ever-shifting field of societal chaos. 

Oliver has been dusting off manuscript records and starts as a supervisor for a feminist black owned bookstore in Crown Heights next week. She is also growing chives and hyssop from seed on the south-facing window sills. She found a skateboard in the basement and we have health insurance again. 

Our new home is a testament to our house karma. It's a unique Brooklyn solution and we are super grateful.  We are in a cohousing set up in a 4 story Brownstone. We have our own 1 bedroom apartment and share the first floor, laundry, and garden with three other folks. The house was built in 1871 and the main newspaper articles about the address mention funerals in the parlor. She has been here for a long time. Long enough to be located on a street named for a slave owner in a historic black neighborhood. We are making friends with the spirits and cleaning out old energy. If this all goes to shit we are going to start an energetic cleaning and decluttering business. It seems to be our calling right now. 

NYC is full of more adventures that we can count. Museum archives, eclipses in cemeteries, really old and forgotten buildings, famous paintings in real life, live music, Garibaldi hide outs, and epic old maps. Every day is an adventure and one must be discerning as the capitalists are hiding in plain sight. Today we are writing this blog instead of marching in NYC Pride because we checked the 990 for NYC Pride. 8.5 million dollars last year…and one of the main sponsors is Target. Not sure what Target looks like in the rest of the country, but here they lock up toothpaste and laundry detergent. 

The greatest NYC adventure has been the privilege of knowing dear Julia. Julia has been our patron saint (she is also Hattie’s mom) and she took us to her family's beach house on the North Fork of Long Island. Wow. This is how one lives in NYC! It was the greatest gift to slow way down, watch the sun and the sea, and eat really, really good food. Oliver also logged the first swims of the season in the Long Island Sound.

Julia also made sure we saw our first Broadway play! We caught Ani DiFranco in Hadestown and now we are hooked! The production was awe inspiring, heart wrenching, laughing, crying, and reminiscing as Ani’s voice pulled out the baby dyke memories in our minds. 

A reflection on Ani the folks singer to Ani as Persephone: 

“am i headed for the same brick wall is there anything i can do about anything at all except go back to that corner in manhattan and dig deeper, dig deeper this time down beneath the impossible pain of our history beneath unknown bones beneath the bedrock of the mystery beneath the sewage systems and the path train beneath the cobblestones and the water mains beneath the traffic of friendships and street deals beneath the screeching of kamikaze cab wheels beneath everything i can think of to think about beneath it all, beneath all get out beneath the good and the kind and the stupid and the cruel there's a fire that's just waiting for fuel”

“Sister, even at my age I believe the world can change Sister, this is how it starts A change of heart.” 

We believe the world can still change. It IS changing. We are grateful for the youngest voters in our midst for keeping us rooted in the truth under the hood of this crumbling democracy. If New York City is the front line of cultural and political change in the US, fasten your seat belts. We don’t know what the US version of the Storming of the Bastille will be, we just know it is coming. And we also know what Aunty Nona taught us and we will work until our very last breath to make the world a better place. 

[ladala99]

Crash Bandicoot Ramble

Also, I wrote this last night. Might as well post it.

Crash Bandicoot Rambles

Or Brash Candiboot as my brain has been saying. Anyway.

My current video game is Crash N Sane trilogy, and oh boy has it been a long time coming. It’s been at the top of my list of games to play once I’m done with anything with actual priority and… it’s been a few years!

I did actually play through the entire Crash 1 portion when I first got it. It’s the only one of the three my family owned when I was a kid. I even got it on PSP for nostalgia’s sake and very quickly realized why we never beat it or even got all that far. The saving system is awful in the original.

For any who don’t know, in the PS1 original version of Crash Bandicoot, there are two ways to save: 1) Get a Gem by destroying all the boxes in a level without dying, or 2) completing a hidden bonus level. And a lot of the early game levels it’s impossible to get the Gem without getting a colored Gem from later in the game.

At least the PSP you can put the game down without turning it off! But even then I sucked at it so I didn’t complete it. I did get pretty far, though.

N Sane Trilogy fixes that by having the game autosave every level. And also they eliminate the no-death requirement for all but the special colored Gems. Thanks to that, it is much more friendly - though certainly still not easy!

Originally when I got N Sane Trilogy, I did actually 100% it. Or a little more than that because I also got the Gem in Stormy Ascent. No Relics, though, since I don’t like time trials.

When I picked it back up about a week ago, I told myself I didn’t have to do Stormy Ascent this time. But I’ve discovered that reaching the end makes me want to play Stormy Ascent. I’ve overcome so many challenges to reach this point - what’s one more?

And this time it’s making me want to get the Relics, too. Just go through the entire game again real fast, why don’t we? Probably just to Gold but… We’ll see.

It’s just so weird, though. Every time I die and see my real-life self’s reflection in the black loading screen, I’m frowning. I look annoyed. Because I am.

Yet I am having so. much. fun. I’m playing some of the same sections dozens of times, making fun of the pity mask that appears and is not helpful in the slightest since I’m falling, and I feel great. Every successful jump feels good. Getting past that section that I kept dying at is a relief. Beating the level and getting the Gem is a rush.

This is just the first game, too. There’s two more. I’ve heard those are easier than the first game, but Crash 4 (which I decided I cannot get until I complete N Sane Trilogy) is reportedly not.

I don’t know. I just love this game. This third of a game that now I’ve played twice while barely touching the other two thirds.

[merchantsquare0]

Enhancing Smiles and Confidence: The Advantages of Dental Caps in Warwick, NY

In the picturesque town of Warwick, New York, nestled amidst the rolling hills and charming streets, lies a gem of oral health and aesthetic enhancement – dental caps. Warwick residents, like those across the globe, are increasingly turning to dental caps to rejuvenate their smiles and boost their confidence. This advanced dental procedure offers a plethora of benefits, ranging from aesthetic enhancement to functional restoration, making it a popular choice for individuals seeking comprehensive dental solutions.

Dental caps, also known as dental crowns, are custom-made prosthetic devices that are placed over damaged or weakened teeth to restore their shape, size, strength, and appearance. Crafted from durable materials such as porcelain, ceramic, or metal alloys, Dental Caps Warwick NY seamlessly blend with natural teeth, providing a natural-looking and long-lasting solution to various dental concerns.

One of the primary advantages of dental caps is their ability to enhance the appearance of teeth. Whether it's discoloration, misalignment, cracks, chips, or irregularities in shape and size, dental caps can effectively conceal imperfections and create a flawless smile. With the help of skilled dentists in Warwick, NY, patients can achieve the smile of their dreams, boosting their self-esteem and leaving a lasting impression in both personal and professional spheres.

Beyond aesthetic enhancement, dental caps offer substantial functional benefits. For individuals with weakened or damaged teeth due to decay, trauma, or extensive dental procedures such as root canals, dental caps provide crucial support and protection. By encasing the entire visible portion of the tooth, dental caps restore its structural integrity, enabling patients to bite, chew, and speak with confidence and ease. This restoration of function not only improves oral health but also enhances overall quality of life.

Moreover, dental caps play a vital role in preserving oral health and preventing further damage to teeth. By covering and sealing the underlying tooth structure, dental caps shield it from harmful bacteria, plaque, and decay, reducing the risk of infection and cavities. This protective barrier not only extends the lifespan of treated teeth but also minimizes the need for more invasive dental interventions in the future, saving patients from discomfort and expenses associated with extensive dental work.

In addition to their restorative properties, dental caps serve as essential components of various dental procedures, such as dental implants and bridges. In implant dentistry, dental caps are placed atop dental implants to replace missing teeth, providing stability, functionality, and natural aesthetics. Similarly, in dental bridges, dental caps serve as anchor points for the prosthetic teeth, bridging the gap created by missing teeth and restoring a complete and harmonious smile.

The versatility of dental caps extends beyond functional and aesthetic aspects to include their durability and longevity. Unlike temporary dental solutions, such as dental bonding or veneers, dental caps are designed to withstand the rigors of daily oral functions for many years. With proper oral hygiene and regular dental care, dental caps can last a decade or more, offering patients a reliable and sustainable dental solution.

Furthermore, the process of receiving dental caps in Warwick, NY, is relatively straightforward and minimally invasive. It typically involves two or three visits to the dentist's office, during which the tooth or teeth are prepared, impressions are taken, and custom-made dental caps are fabricated in a dental laboratory. Once ready, the dental caps are securely bonded to the prepared teeth, ensuring a precise fit and comfortable feel. The result is a seamless integration with natural teeth and a rejuvenated smile that feels and functions just like the real thing.

As with any dental procedure, selecting a skilled and experienced dentist is crucial to ensuring optimal outcomes with dental caps. In Warwick, NY, residents have access to a diverse pool of dental professionals who specialize in restorative and cosmetic dentistry. By choosing a reputable dentist with a proven track record in dental cap procedures, patients can embark on their journey to a brighter, healthier smile with confidence and peace of mind.

In conclusion, dental caps represent a transformative solution for individuals seeking to enhance their smiles and restore their oral health in Warwick, NY, and beyond. From aesthetic refinement to functional restoration, dental caps offer a comprehensive array of benefits that address various dental concerns effectively. With their durability, longevity, and natural aesthetics, dental caps empower patients to smile confidently, eat comfortably, and live life to the fullest. In the scenic landscape of Warwick, NY, dental caps stand as pillars of oral health and beauty, enriching lives and brightening smiles one patient at a time.           

[kathyprior4200]

Heavenly Boss S1 E8: King Pin

Sunna the Heaven-cat sat in the back of a clean flying taxi, the seats white and well-kept. She wore a beautiful long teal dress with a white Christian Cross in the center. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a braided ponytail, and she had several sapphires in her hair. Her necklace consisted of small white light orbs like glowing pearls against her furry light brown skin.

Sunna’s cellphone rang and “Docile” appeared on the screen.

“Hi Dad,” she beamed. “I’m off to the party in Chasity! There’ll be heaven-cats and elves there. Oh, I’m super excited!”

“Are you meeting Portal?” Docile asked.

“Yes,” Sunna blushed, remembering Portal inviting her to the party during autumn break.

“Be careful around him,” said Docile. “Remember what happened last time.”

“I will,” said Sunna, soon hanging up.

The taxi flew through a portal and the sky changed from sky blue to the light pink of Chasity. They flew through the sky and landed on a well-maintained street. Signs around the city read, “Good things come in moderation!” Other signs read “No sex”, “No excessive alcohol”, “No excessive food.” In all the restaurants, everyone got equal portions of what they needed, and the rest went to charity. Classical music and meditation music played throughout the streets and the lights were never too bright. Marble and gold statues of angels holding scales and swords stood over glistening gardens and pristine parks. Fountains held golden water which poured from one stone cup to another before settling down at the bottom. White doves and black doves flew around the denizens of heaven, who happily shared their bread and treats. Ying-Yang symbols dotted several shops. Of course, there were also many signs and advertisements promoting good marriages, abstinence, and safe sex.

No loud parties, no big celebrations. Only a sense of peace and calmness.

“Want me to drop you off here?” asked the female driver as the taxi lowered and slowed to a stop.

“Yes, please,” said Sunna. She got out of the taxi and saw a dazzling sight. She saw the large ruby-colored restaurant in front of her where elves and heaven-cats wore formal clothing; dresses and tuxedos studded with gems. They quietly talked and danced inside. No one stuffed their faces nor ate big portions…there was a politeness and serenity about the place. Even though it was in the Chasity Halo, the culture reminded her of Temperance. “Camael’s Concert at Camael’s Corner” shone in gold letters on a banner over the door. Classical music flowed through the restaurant, delighting the guests.

Sunna wondered where the party music was. But she decided that classical music was great, too.

“Sunna,” called Portal. The muscular white feline walked over, dressed in a light gray tuxedo and a blue tie.

“Portal!” Sunna smiled.

“Glad you could make it!” Portal smiled.

“Yeah, thanks for inviting me,” Sunna added.

“You’re welcome.”

Portal led Sunna into the restaurant. The top of it was a large dark red dome with glowing heart designs that matched the sky. The double doors were made of rose quartz and the handles looked like curved in white angel wings.

“Dinner for two,” he said. The waitress, a white cat with black stripes wearing a black dress smiled and said, “Right this way.”

She led them to a table with a white cloth where a golden rose in a small vase was placed in the center. They were near the dance floor, where heaven-cats were waltzing with each other. Portal and Sunna sat down, taking in the tranquil atmosphere. The serious angel Cassiel was playing the piano on a stage, to the delight of the guests. There was also the golden cross stage where Camael and Holly Wata had performed.

“Hey everyone, meet my new friend,” Portal called. Other heaven-cats meowed in greeting to Sunna, while a few rolled their eyes. One looked at Sunna in disapproval of her dress that revealed her legs. Near a magenta lava lamp, against a wall of golden ambrosia was the pink sigil of Camael.

The striped cat waitress came over to their table.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

“One glass of Holy Spirit on the rocks, please,” Portal replied.

“Cloud Nine wine for me,” Sunna said.

“Okay then, they’ll be right over,” said the waitress, “But remember, everyone only gets one drink per serving.” She smiled and left.

Sunna shrugged. “I don’t get it. Heaven has endless feasts of food, yet we can’t even have another glass here? I mean, what if we spill it?”

“It encourages moderation and enjoyment of what you have,” Portal responded. “Especially when it comes to relationships. Unlike Earth, Heaven takes careful consideration of everyone’s needs. Just be glad the alcohol we have doesn’t affect us angels.”

“It still tastes good, at least.”

Sunna glanced at her menu: “Holy Trinity Dinners! One appetizer, one meal and one dessert…only 333 spirits!”

Sunna sighed. “Everything is getting so expensive nowadays.”

“Tell me about it,” Portal replied. “But at least we’re not in Earth or in Hell; their prices are outrageous!”

“Say,” said Sunna as the waitress placed their drinks in front of them, “You still working for Verosika? I mean, Veronica? Uh…”

“You mean Kiva Perdera? Yes,” Portal replied.

“Wait a minute! Didn’t you guys get arrested on Earth? And didn’t Kiva get banished to Earth? How did she get back into Heaven?”

“Must have been her fame,” said Portal. “She still has many fans in Heaven and they eventually overruled Deere’s decision to banish her. Or…”

Portal twiddled his furry thumbs, “I may have also created a portal and got her back in. Following orders to make sure there’s no conflict.”

“Following whose orders?” Sunna implied.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to our special celebration tonight,” said a voice. “Live at Camael’s Corner.” An angelic figure strolled onto the dance floor while several angels with glowing lotus flowers over their heads played a nearby grand piano and a violin.

“Him, of course,” said Portal.

“Wait…since when did you also work for…” Sunna began.

“Are you ready to celebrate with the King Pin of Chasity?” said the voice.

Applause followed.

“Let us begin.”

The spotlight revealed the angel of Chasity, Camael himself.  He wore his usual pink suit, dark pink top hat, and often carried a hidden sword just in case. His hair was short and brown, his skin white. He played a love song on his golden lyre and the audience was entranced by magic visions of peace, love, and harmony.

Portal clapped and Sunna was genuinely pleased.

“Hello, Portal,” called Camael, who came over in the blink of an eye. The two of them shook hands.

“It’s great to see you again,” said Portal. “How’s Holly?”

“Holly, Kiva, and Veronica? Still doing their work. Kiva is doing her performances and Holly is mostly on her missions to stop the spread of sin on Earth. Veronica is keeping to herself lately. Frankly, I think Holly would be better suited for the next mission…Kiva went a little overboard last time.”

Camael paused. “Oh, is this the kitten you were talking about?”

“Yeah,” said Portal. “Sunna this is Camael, the boss of my so-called boss, Kiva.”

“So…you’re alright with being with lower-status beings like cherubs and elves and cats?” Sunna asked nervously.

Camael shrugged. “We need as much help as we can get. If those guys can do their part for the Lord, I’m all for it.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Sunna, suddenly feeling self-conscious at all the elite cats around her. 

“Anyway, hope you have a nice night,” Camael said. “See you guys around.”

Camael left into the shadows as Cassiel mentored a group of angels about various dimensions.

For the next half-hour, Sunna was attempting to use the right forks and spoons for her meal. Portal helped her with choosing the correct utensils for her Golden Honey Soup, Ichthys eggs, lobster bisque with gold flecks, heavenly salad, and traditional angel food cake for dessert. She enjoyed the food and resisted the urge to lap out of her bowl.

One of the elite cats raised her eyebrows at Sunna’s hippie demeanor, while another cat wore a bracelet that read “The cat’s meow.” Another cat wore a suit with “I am purrfect” on it and another wore a “divine lives” shirt.

After Sunna finished her meal and after an awkward waltzing with Portal, she got a phone call.

Sunna answered.  “Hey Dad.”

“I’m on my way to your party.”

“Why?”

“Just to see that everything’s alright. I still don’t trust that Portal guy.”

“Dad, he’s fine and very nice. Give him a chance.”

“No promises.”

Soon enough, Docile had arrived in a fancier version of his E.L.F. getup.

“Enjoying your date?” he asked, arms folded.

Sunna blushed. “It…wasn’t really a date. We just talked about work and stuff.”

“Hello, Docile,” said Camael, appearing behind him. “You were just here the other day, yes? How’s E.L.F.?”

Docile smiled nervously. “It’s going great, sir. Some wild mishaps here and there, but otherwise alright.”

“Just be sure to stay out of trouble,” Camael said. “I’d listen to your sister if I were you…she has a pretty good idea about an ideal world in Heaven and Earth.”

“Right,” said Docile with a sigh and roll of his eyes. He turned to Sunna. “You ready to go?”

“Actually, how about a fun little contest?” asked Camael. “You still fresh with your vocals right?”

“Been a while since choir, but I’m up for it,” Docile said.

“Whoever can sing the greatest hymn about God, wins,” said Camael. “Cassiel will judge.”

“Bring it on,” said Docile.

Sunna drowned out the devotional droning and the ritual riffraff until, to her disappointment…

“Better luck next time,” said Camael to Docile before leaving. Docile groaned. “I was so close.” He turned to Sunna. “I’m ready to go home.”

“Me too,” said Sunna. “This party is getting boring for me.”

The elite cats stared at Sunna with judging eyes as she and Docile headed out the door.

They arrived back at their house in Humility, Docile and Sunna heading to their own rooms. The walls were emerald and sapphire with pictures of the E.L.F. crew.

“I love you, Sunny,” said Docile.

“I love you too, dad,” Sunna replied. “You know I’ll always be there for you.”

“Be where?”

Sunna laughed. “Everywhere, with you whenever you need me.”

“Spoken like a true E.L.F. member. Hey, don’t forget to help open the office in the morning.”

Sunna sighed. “Almost forgot about that.”

Both went to their respective rooms for a good night’s sleep.