#Hoops Bandits

[hoopsmedia]

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[cosmicreptile]

If y’all could see the visions I’m constructing in my mind for future Lyra performances I wanna do. I feel like an animal chewing its own limb off with the shit I’m cooking up in here.

[prism-empurress]

hear me out. ISAT fam + Loop washing a litter of foster kittens. Mirabelle; -comments on their markings and attitudes they may have, sings a bathtime song to help calm the little wigglers down...it doesn't work. -apologizes PROFUSELY for giving every kitten a flea bath + combing through their fur. "I'm sorry little ones! I promise you'll feel better!" -if there's a runaway flea on the ground or the tub she SMASHES it without a second thought. ALL PARASITES MUST DIE. In a cute way~ Bonnie; -keeps giving the kittens bubble beards and hats -VERY THOROUGH COMBING, combs through each kitten at least twice, while washing the comb(s) after each kitten has used it. -makes up names and stories for each kitten. "this one's always stealing snacks from the others, so his name is Bandit. That one is a lover not a fighter, so their name is Cupid." Isabeau; -his hands are big enough for TWO 3-week old kittens each, but he doesn't want to accidentally squish them so he dries off ONE kitten at a time with a fluffy towel...and makes them all have mohawks. -"I'm gonna teach this gang so many cool tricks like skateboarding, jumping through hoops, and how to attack on command." -is 100% going to make clothes for the kittens, like hats and lil suits and dresses. but the clothes are only on for a minute at a time. he makes collars, too, to tell each kitten apart.

Odile; -"ah yes, this one is ready for it's photo shoot." -blow dries and brushes each kitten, while telling all of them how pretty they are, and don't they feel better after being tormented by being WASHED?

-she bottle feeds them too! Siffrin; -makes a nest using his CLOAK plus a few blankets here and there, and lays down in the nest WITH THE KITTENS ON HIM so he's sharing his body heat. I don't know if...crafted incubators can exist? Siffrin the kitten warmer. -"please stop chewing on my face, can you chew on your siblings instead?" -refuses to budge from the nest. "leave me alone, I'm the kitten lord. these are my minions" Loop; -PLUCKS SIFFRIN FROM THE NEST, AND GETS IN THEIR SPOT. -they can probably generate better heat than Siffrin can??

-"I'm the best cuddler, look, the kittens love me. I'm warm, I smell nice, also I don't need to charge!"

[apoptoses]

JESS i’m having louis/armand/daniel brain rot again, i wanna know your thoughts 🥺 specifically like, are there any things that armand and daniel enjoyed during their DM years that you think they might pick back up with louis at trinity gate? i feel like in my head, daniel is always kind of the third wheel (at trinity gate, at least), but i’m really fascinated by the idea of LOUIS being the one to step into their world for a change

oh man oh man, I LOVE this question!! and i have so many thoughts!!

Movies: we know Louis watches movies from how he kept showing up at Lestat's in body thief to stare at his tv lol But I think Armand and Daniel have so many inside jokes from all of the weirdo movies they used to watch, or quotes that they repeat and Louis doesn't get it. So I think they'd really enjoy sitting him down and subjecting him to the Worst Hits of Armand's Movie Phase.

And Daniel especially would enjoy the validation that some of these are fuckin terrible films LOL They could mind gift back and forth about how insipid Louis finds the plot until Daniel is sitting there choking back laughter because finally, someone who agrees Time Bandits isn't that funny.

Video Games: I don't mean modern console games, I mean like classic arcade games and pinball machines. Which Armand probably has a whole room of them in the basement somewhere, lovingly restored and in perfect condition. And I think Louis would be a little hesitant- he seems like the type who acts 'above' certain things just because if he tries it and sucks at it he'll feel humiliated. But even he can't resist the siren call of PacMan and eventually he's knocked them both down on the scoreboard and taken the top spot.

(Also they like to go out a lot so sometimes they end up at like, Dave n Busters LOL Which is far more contentious because ugh, it's noisy and tacky and smells like that radioactive 'cheese' mortals cover their nachos with. But your jock!Louis headcanons have bewitched me and I think they could soothe him by getting him to shoot hoops on the basketball game)

Going Out-Out: Louis is such a homebody when left to his own devices and now that they've got Trinity Gate, home to whatever vampires want to stop by, what's the point in spending time among mortals?

So they'd ease him in with some random one-off classes ("Come, Louis, we've an appointment to learn to make fresh pasta tonight" "Yeah, I know, what's the point when we don't eat, just don't argue with him, it'll be fun" And you know what? It is). And then they'd take him to random stuff from the meetup app (or not so random, because both of them know Louis wouldn't be able to resist debating strangers at a weekly book club).

And then they're back to running around strange apartment buildings to meet up and coming artists, and accepting invites to follow their classmates down to a local bar, and crashing the sets of night shoots around New York. It goes better when it's the three of them because when someone is over it and ready to go home there's no obligation to stay and keep their partner company. No pressure to do anything but enjoy existing together out in the world for a few hours.

Special mentions:

board games (the more obscure the better)

travel (this time Louis and Daniel are more mentally present lol)

letting armand play sugar daddy and picking their outfits for the ballet (which leads to some altercations that have armand feeling like that post about 'help my subs have unionized')

weird 70s/80s craft nights (louis ends up gifting his tie dye shirt to lestat, armand and daniel send theirs to marius)

'treasure hunting' aka scamming the wealthy out of their art collections (louis doesn't care about the value, he does however feel some righteous indignation over important historical pieces being kept in vaults as some tech bro's 'investment'; daniel is just happy to finally understand how armand does it, and take part in it himself)

abusing kitchen gadgets (doesn't matter who you are, playing 'will it blend' can catch the fascination of even the most arrogant, erudite vampires)

[cityandking]

tomorrow's story

minah + the orchestra. pre-campaign. 1.6k for bloody prompted by @thewildmother like a million years ago. whoops. // angst prompts

They stop half a day out from Seleny to water the horses in a dip between hillsides. The river is wide and flat and slow moving as it spills out of the swamplands and wends its way eastwards towards Rialto Bay, and the horses aren't the only ones grateful for a break. The Orchestra slumps down in ones and twos in the scant shade of the wagons, nursing aching feet and enjoying the slight breeze off the water while Bennie and Priya see to the horses.

Minah is with Faelyn when the call goes up, propped against one of the wagon wheels and watching him make a pair of cards dance between his fingers, trying to mimic the motion. It’s something about the third finger, she thinks, some trick of pressure or placement, and she’s so focused on pushing through her own awkwardness that it takes a moment to parse the shout. Next to her, Faelyn fumbles his cards, and that finally draws her attention away from the trick.

That, and Alesso’s voice rings out from the far side of the wagons, sudden and booming and a dozen times sharper than he ever sounds before a crowd.

“Bandits!”

Minah drops her cards.

Faelyn’s up and gone already, drawing his sword as he shoves away from the wagons and towards the sudden churn of figures spilling over the far hillside. In the shallows, the horses stamp and whinny, and Priya swears loud enough to make out each syllable over the surge of raised voices, the ringing clang of metal. Alesso starts shouting again too, hat askew and crossbow in hand as more figures crest the near hilltop, and Minah gets as far as up on her feet before the panic freezes her. She doesn't know where to look, what to do. She’s heard their stories, and she knows full well the roads aren’t always safe, even for a group like the Orchestra. But those are stories.

This isn’t a story. This is a dozen men, armed and armored, bearing down on them in broad daylight.

A crossbow bolt thunks into the wagon an arm’s length from her head, and that jolts her into action. She grabs for the bow at her side, fumbling the grip nearly as badly as Faelyn's card trick, and then it’s in her hand, arrow nocked, arm raised.

She glances up in the direction of the crossbow and finds the man who shot it loading up another bolt, charging down the hill with another three men behind him. Alesso and Faelyn and the twins are on the other side of the wagons with most of the company, and Priya is cursing the day and the horses and the bandits’ mothers while Bennie struggles with the lead lines, and up on the driver's bench of the lead wagon is Tilda with a bow of her own. As Minah stares, an arrow sprouts from the bowman’s neck, and his body runs a step more before it falters and crashes into the dusty grass. His fellows keep charging, swords tugged free from scabbards.

Someone runs past her—one of the jugglers with her own pair of swords, shouting loud enough to wake the dead. Her wild attack gives two of the men pause, but not the third. The third pushes forward down the hillside, coming straight at Minah, blade glinting in the sunlight.

It's easy, in the cloudy-sharp rush of panic, to shoot. She doesn’t think about it. He makes a larger target than trick hoops or rabbits, and the arrow slips away from her fingers before she can think to loose it. She’s barely aware of the snap of the bowstring as the arrow sings into the mass of him, thudding deep, and he—

Doesn’t stop.

She fumbles for another arrow. Tilda shouts something, garbled and senseless beneath the sounds of fighting. Vaguely, Minah clocks more movement off to the side where Alesso is rallying the troupe, the copper smell of baked earth and blood rich in the air. When she shoots, the arrow clips the man's arm and goes wide.

She drops the bow and grabs for the knife in her belt instead. It's a paltry thing compared to the sword—but then, she thinks with a crystal clear sort of panic, she’s a paltry thing in comparison to the man wielding the blade; she's easily a head smaller, and Maker above she should have run. She shouldn’t have dropped the fucking bow.

He comes in swinging. She ducks the first blow and leaps away from the second and finds her feet falling into a familiar position, toes out, balance forward. A half-remembered voice whispers in her ear, indulgent more than anything. Get in close. You’re small, so you have to get in close.

She darts backwards again when he comes around for another pass. He isn’t wearing a helmet, just a padded jacket, and her arrow sticks out of his stomach, fletching bobbing mockingly as he moves. When he leers at her, she can count all four of his missing teeth. Her stomach turns over.

“C’mon, girlie,” he says. His accent is more Marcher than Antivan, out of place so close to Seleny, and that turns her stomach worse. “Put down the pig sticker and let’s be friends, hm? I can be nice.”

Minah raises the knife in a fencer’s ready position and has the thought, wild and fleeting, that fencing is nothing like this.

He scowls and swings again, and her heart thrums in her throat and her fingertips when she ducks into the swing, under his guard. His bulk makes him clumsy and his surprise makes him clumsier, and her body almost remembers this, the shift of weight and motion, something between a dance and a bout and miles away from either. She shoves him as hard as she can and he stumbles back, losing his grip on the sword. She kicks at the hilt before he can reach for it, and now it’s her with the knife and him with nothing.

She doesn’t expect the backhand.

She drops like a sack of cloth, tears in her eyes and head ringing, and it’s only the deep-rooted instinct to survive that has her fingers clenching around the knife, refusing to lose the one advantage she has. The sky spins overhead, and the noise of the fight goes watery and muffled, and then he’s on her, a heavy, stinking weight. He’s saying something as he bears down on her, muttering to himself, but she can’t make out the words. There’s only the smothering pressure, the fit of his fingers around her throat, and she thrashes and gasps and drives the knife up into him.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Hot, thick blood spills out, drenches her hand and her shirt and the ground beneath them, and his fingers go slack as he collapses on top of her, and she screams. The blood keeps coming, and she’s pinned, and for a moment, for just a moment, she’s there again, blood on her skirts, copper and stinking and hot and everywhere, and she can’t move or run or look away, and—

“Minah!”

The weight vanishes, and then a hand catches her shoulder, her elbow, drags her upright, and the blind, choking panic fades in the face of Alesso’s wild-eyed concern. Minah stand there, knife clutched in one hand, chest heaving. There’s blood all down her front. There’s blood everywhere.

“Are you hurt?” Alesso demands. “Are you bleeding, is it yours?”

“I’m fine,” she manages, as far as fine as she could be. But she says it, and even manages to scrape together a smile to go with. She clenches the knife tighter to hide her shaking. “Bit surprised is all.”

He stares at her for a heartbeat, then shakes his head. “Maker’s balls, girl. You look like a nightmare.”

Minah swallows down the acid sting of bile and looks around. Over his shoulder, she catches sight of the other two swordsmen, dead, and by the water Priya and Bennie have the horses settled, and there’s Faelyn coming around the far side of the wagon, face a storm cloud. Minah takes a breath.

“Is everyone else alright? Did anyone…?”

“Everyone’s fine. A better sight than you.”

“Good,” she says, and then she makes the mistake of glancing down at the body. The man’s face is pale and shocked. She can still count his missing teeth.

He’d been alive. He’d been alive, and now he’s not, and his blood is— His blood is—

She drops the knife, gets three paces away, and vomits. She can’t stop shaking.

“Sorry,” she says, vaguely aware of Alesso next to her and the embarrassment of being so shaken when everyone else is picking themselves up, dusting themselves off. “Sorry, I’m fine. I just— I never—"

“Alright.” Alesso crouches next to her, hand on her elbow again. “It’s alright. Come on, you’re fine. Let’s get you clean, hm? And then a proper meal and proper bed in town tonight, and tomorrow it will be a story. Yes? There's no point in lingering in it.”

She closes her eyes, breathes slow and trembling through the nausea. Her cheek throbs in time with her heartbeat, and she’s almost grateful for the distraction of the pain. When she clenches her fingers into fists, the blood sticks tacky between her knuckles. She takes another breath.

“Right,” she says. She doesn’t need to wait until tomorrow for it to be a story. She can make it one right now. “I’m alright.”

“You’re alright,” Alesso agrees, and Minah lets the lie pull her up from the muddy, bloody dirt and goes down to the river to wash.

[aressapereaude]

Lore dump! :3

As usual, 18+ only, minors and Ageless/faceless blogs DNI you WILL be blocked, etc etc,

Live Laugh Love Touchstarved Visual Novel

Lorrla's Origin:

The Unnamed

The Hound

The Alchemist

{The Burdened}

You traveled the lands as a musician for most of your upbringing, never staying in the same place too long except for one instance of a brief fling with a fond patron. Over the years your curse has gradually spread from your hands to the rest of your body, and now you travel to the Senobium not to play music but in search of a cure, to rid your body of the curse that keeps you from holding your newborn baby.

Lorrle's skills as a musician make her adept at quietly gathering information, blending into restricted environments, and charming potential allies/enemies. During her travels she has acquired a few weak but helpful spells, pocket-sized artefacts, and various ingredients to be brewed into elixirs. Her proclivity to hide in plain sight, however, makes her recognisable, as well as an easy target to bandits. She must be careful not to steal too much of the spotlight, lest she put a target on her back.

Her preferred pronouns are She/Her, and she identifies as Female. Her romantic and sexual orientation is best described as AroAce, and sex-positive. She refuses to specify the gender of her child. In addition to knowing a few different musical instruments, Lorrle is highly skilled at vocalising. She struggles to dance. Her outfit consists of a patterned peacock themed dress with long sleeves and a feathered tail, a feathered crest atop her head, and a full-body veil secured to er head by her crest and secured around her waist by a bejewelled corset. The majority of her belongings are worn on her person, and she owns very little of value that isn't able to be worn or carried. Beneath each eye are two studded piercings, and on her lip she wears a vertical labret hoop. Her ears are also pierced, and adorned with dangling jewellery.

Her child wears plain clothing of the same theme and colour, and is typically swaddled and secured to her using a cheap but strong fabric, tied beneath the veil at her hip. More often than not, she holds her child in her arms. There is always at least one layer of fabric between them, except in cases where the baby needs to be soothed or fed.

[grimst4rs]

The doorbell rang behind James as he closed the door.

“Oi!” Marlene, his friend, shouted. “Back, that’s where Sirius is! Sit still and be ready, I didn’t tell him to take you for nothing!” She said as he passed him, and winked. James laughed.

“Just because it’s my first time doesn’t mean I won’t be able to take it,” He said, grinning, and sitting down.

Sirius, his tattoo artist, was making his way to the chair. He had black, loose waves down to lower than his shoulder, a tight, black top that made James see the bars going through his nipples, and a pair of large, washed-away jeans. He had dark eyebrows and hooded, eyes, rimmed with long eyelashes, a straight nose, with a hoop piercing through his nostril, and full lips, accompanied by sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline. His arms were tattooed, too, yet James could make out a few scratches that were most likely cat scratches. (James had a cat, too, that had taken a liking to putting his claws in things, most especially all three of his owners.)

“Hey,” He said, putting his hand out for James to shake, “I’m Sirius, and I will be tattooing you today. Now, until we’re done with the autoclave, I put everything needed in and it’s reached the temperature five minutes ago, it’s for sterilisation, by the way, that’ll be another fifteen minutes. Let’s talk about your tattoo. Just checking in for the last time — you said the design’s fine, yeah?”

James hummed as an answer, still mesmerised by the man sitting in front of him, who had just pushed the hairband off his wrist and put his hair up.

“Okay, that’s much better, it won’t get in the way while I’m tattooing you. The idea was sick, by the way.”

“Your execution was brilliant sounds more like it,” James said, laughing, and Sirius chuckled.

“Thanks. You said thigh, yeah?” (He nodded as an answer.) “That means we’ll have to get that area shaved, for which we have disposable razors. Marlene said it’s your first time, so it’s probably gonna hurt a bit, but the top of the thighs are less painful than other areas.”

James should probably change his mind about the placement because that would mean he would have that handsome man gripping at his thighs for a while. Which seemed both horrible and horribly arousing; a recipe for disaster, if you asked him. Yet James was never going to back down for a dare.

“Cool,” He answered, shrugging nonchalantly.

“It’s one of the least painful areas, though. Here’s a pain chart,” Sirius passed him the paper, “just so you can see what it’s rated compared to other placements.”

“It’s cool by me either way, mate,” James said. “So, you got a cat?”

“Yeah, Duchess.” Sirius grinned. “Took her off the streets a few weeks ago, she was as tiny as my fist. Bit of a scratcher, but she’s too adorable to mind. I have a dog, too.”

“What breed?” James asked; he’d always wanted a dog, but in his new apartment complex he wasn’t allowed pets and had to be make do with just seeing his old, grumpy cat that his parents had in their manor.

“Mongrel. He’s old and deaf, the poor thing. They were gonna euthanise him and I didn’t want that. I named him Bandit, ‘cause he keeps stealing the food off the table if I happen to not pay attention.” He laughed, and it sounded particularly bark-like. “I can tell you more about them while I’m working on you; are you ready?”

“Always will be,” James answered, already giddy (no, he wasn’t giddy) at the thought he’d have Sirius so close to his body. (It was about being tattooed, not the artist, thank you very much.)

[2ofpentacles]

The Eye of Fate

A short story of a feral Zelkov who was changed forever by a little domesticity — and an explanation for why he has eyes all over his coat. This takes place several years pre-canon, so he'd be in his early twenties. TW for suicidal ideation.

I wrote this as part of my WIP, but I'm worried that it messes up the pacing. While I decide whether to keep it in or not, I'll put it here.

Zelkov threw back another glass of cheap alcohol. He could have afforded something better — he had plenty of gold from his last job — but what did it matter? The expensive variety was no better at erasing memories. And if this burned his throat, well, he deserved to burn.

Some woman was eyeing him from across the tavern, but he had no desire to be touched by cold, indifferent hands that night.

Instead, he wandered outside into the bitter Elusian winter. Blinding sheets of snow stung his face. The wind cut through a hole in his coat. It was extremely sobering. He slumped against a wall.  

I should kill myself.

How many times had he thought that since he had taken his revenge on his family’s murderers? The last bandit’s body had not even cooled before the realization sunk into him that he had nothing and no one. No purpose.

I should kill myself.

He had plenty of knives. He had poisons that would make it painless, but it would be more fitting to end his existence with a blade.

Every night Zelkov decided that he would kill himself in the morning. Yet here he was, still breathing. He provided nothing of value to the world. Assassination was his only skill set, though he had recently turned to thievery. It was not even a satisfactory challenge to sneak into the houses of the wealthy and steal treasures from under their noses. And the money could never buy anything to fill the void in his soul.

I should kill myself.

Just do it now. There was no reason to wait for morning. But he was distracted by the wind blowing through his coat. The shoulder seam was coming apart. It was… irritating.

Had his mother not taught him to sew? Fine, straight stitches to close wounds. He should repair his coat. A needle and thread, that was all he needed. But where to get them at this time of night?

Zelkov stalked through the streets of the castle town until he reached the garment district. The shops were all shut up, but it would be no matter to break in and take what he wanted. Before he could, though, he noticed a golden light shining through the curtain of snow. He found himself drawn to a small window. 

An ancient woman, wrinkled and bent, sat inside embroidering on a hoop. He lost himself for a moment in the movement of her gnarled fingers. She looked up, and they locked eyes. Hers were unexpectedly clear and sharp. He could have disappeared into the night, but instead of screaming, the old woman’s face creased into a smile.

He stood there with the snow piling around his boots as she struggled out of her chair and shuffled to the door. She shivered as she was greeted by a blast of frigid air.

“Come in out of the cold, young man. You’ll catch your death out there.”

Why not? He stepped into the room warmed by a small fire on the hearth. There was a kettle boiling. She eased herself back into her chair.

“Madam, would you be willing to lend me a needle and thread?”

He did not know why he had started emphasizing certain words in his speech. It was an idle amusement. Something to keep people guessing.

“So polite for a stray let in from the storm! You could take some lessons,” she rubbed the head of a cat sitting on the arm of the chair. “Needle and thread I have. Take what you like. But first, we’ll have a cup of tea.”

“That is not necessary.”

“I want a cup of tea. If I make one for myself, I might as well make one for you too.”

There was logic to that. “Very well, but allow me to prepare it.”

The room was filled with the crackling of the fire and the purring of the cat as he poured the water over the tea leaves. The old woman directed him to where an additional teacup could be found. It felt dreamlike, surreal. 

He set the old woman’s cup on the table beside her, then took a seat in the only other chair. He cradled the cup in his hands, though it was too hot against his fingers. How long had it been since he had had tea? 

He drained his cup. The domestic atmosphere grated on him for some reason, and he wanted to escape back into the darkness where he belonged. First, though, the coat must be repaired.

As soon as Zelkov took it off, however, the woman exclaimed, “You’re nothing but skin and bones, lad! Go get a cookie from the cupboard.”

“I assure you there is no need —”

“You'd refuse my hospitality?”

No reply came to mind, so he dutifully fetched a cookie for himself and the old woman. He felt ridiculous, like a demon who had accidentally been summoned by a faulty stitch in her embroidery. The cookie did smell good though. When had he last eaten?

He took a tentative bite. There was cinnamon and nutmeg and something else he could not place. Would she share the recipe if he asked? 

Do you plan to be doing some baking out on a street corner, you fool?

He was getting distracted. “The needle and thread, if you do not mind, madam.”

“They’re in my sewing basket there. And you may call me Hazel.”

He rummaged through the basket and found what he needed. The old woman said nothing, but watched carefully as he slipped the grey thread through the eye of the needle and began stitching up the hole in his coat.

“That’s some lovely work, lad,” she said when he was done. “You’d never know it had been ripped at all.”

He stood and bowed. “I am much obliged to you, madam. Allow me to pay you for the tea, and I will take my leave.”

“You can’t be going out into that blizzard!”

Zelkov wanted to tell her it was not that bad, but it appeared that the storm had worsened in the time he had been in her house. It was the sort of snow that would have a man lost ten paces from his home. And he did not have one of those.

“It is no matter.” Freezing might not be a bad way to die.

“You’ll stay the night here, and that’s final.”

“Why?” His irritation rose to the surface. “Why would you allow me into your home? You know nothing of who I am, and if you did, you would have all the more reason to turn me away.”

“Perhaps I wanted some company. Now you can kill me with that blade on your hip and steal what little I have of value, or you can sleep by the fire tonight and leave in the morning.”

“You are an imperious old crone.”

“That’s right. Now make yourself comfortable.”

He threw himself back into the threadbare armchair and crossed his arms. The woman returned to her embroidery. Once again he found himself mesmerized by the push and pull of her hand, the ascent and descent of the needle, as she manifested from nothing the image of a leaf.

“Those long fingers of yours can do some delicate work,” she said without looking up. “Since you’ve nothing else to do, would you like to learn some embroidery?”

“I suppose it would be preferable to idleness.”

“Come then. I have another hoop here.”

Zelkov pulled his chair beside hers, and she began to teach. With rapt attention, he absorbed every detail. His own needle began its journey up and down through the fabric.

“I’m impressed, lad. I’ve never seen someone pick it up so fast. But sleep is calling for this old crone. Let me get you a pillow and blanket.”

“There is no need —”

“I’m sure there isn’t, but I’ll do it anyway.”

He sighed, but accepted the bedding she gave him. He did not seem to have a choice. The old woman went to her tiny bedroom, but he stayed by the fire and continued embroidering. The cat curled up beside him. The world fell away as he poured his focus into each stitch. How soothing it was.

These botanical motifs did not suit his taste, however. Something else came to mind. He retrieved his coat and began to work out in his head the best way to embroider an eye.

When the old woman came out of her room the next morning, she exclaimed, “You did all that in one night? You couldn’t have slept a wink!”

“Nevermind that. Please, you must show me how to correct this.”

“Alright, calm down, lad, and let me take a look. Eh, what was your name, anyway?”

“...Zelkov.” 

“Fine then, Zelkov. Let me show you.”

His own name rang strangely in his ears. It had been many years since he had heard the sound. The master assassin had never used it.

Mistress Hazel lowered herself into her chair, bones creaking. He knelt by her side as she explained the mistake he had made and how to do it correctly. With no hesitation he ripped out the stitches he had labored over in the night and began anew. 

“So,” she asked as he worked furiously. “Why eyes?”

“It is l'œil du destin. It is… a ward against ill fortune.”

It was much more than that, but it was difficult to explain. Les Gens de la Mer painted them on the prow of their ships as a way to guide them in the right direction along the paths that fate laid before them. He had no ship, so his coat would have to do.

“Ah, I thought you might be Sea Folk. You have that look about you.”

“Yet you still invited me into your home.”

“That is the least startling thing about you, I’m sure. Now, would you mind making us a cup of tea?”

As time went by, there always seemed to be a reason not to leave. The snow was piled too deep. There was a new embroidery technique to learn. He could not in good conscience allow Mistress Hazel to make the trip to the market by herself.

He found himself cooking her meals, cleaning her small rooms, and reading to her as she sewed. It was laughable that the assassin had now become a maid, yet it calmed his mind far more than the endless debauchery he had put himself through. There was always some task to be done. He could immerse himself in it and forget for a while.

Then one morning, Mistress Hazel did not leave her bed. When he checked on her, she seemed at peace, as if asleep. But he was intimately familiar with the characteristics of a dead body.

He turned and left the house. How long did he wander until his feet took him to one of his old haunts? The tavern was dim and smokey, too loud and filled with people who probably had some place better they should be. Unlike him. He sat in a shadowy corner and stared at nothing.

He pulled his knife out under the table and ran his thumb along the blade. Surely with a knife so sharp, it would be quick and easy. A far better death than he deserved.

Despite himself, his well-honed senses picked up an uneasiness in the crowd. A soldier in the king’s livery had wandered in. He scanned faces that quickly turned away until he spotted Zelkov. He approached and held out a roll of fine paper.

“King Hyacinth has heard tales of your... particular skills. He would like to offer you a job.”

Author's Note: If you somehow stumbled across this and are wondering what the hell I'm talking about with Les Gens de la Mer, it's a headcanon I made up for my fic, Love and War.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48878800/chapters/123307018

Long story short, they were a group of people displaced by the war between Brodia and Elusia.

[chaiwrote]

*mainverse information.

name ... clover d. iselda. moniker ... age ... 34, post-time skip.

species ... human. current location ... verse dependent.

hometown ... village in the north blue. education ... educated in numerous locations; the equivalent of a family who moved around places every two years, thus attending schooling at a number of schools/locations.

father ... tbd, unnamed marine. mother ... clover d. mavis, alive. sibling(s) ... none. pet(s) ... giant wolf, link.

close friends/family ... koby, trafalgar d. water law [complicated]. sig. other(s) ... donquixote rosinante (as plotted with Makenzi/weatherw1tch), verse dependent.

position/rank ... captain in the marines, operating in tandem with SWORD. affiliations ... SWORD, revolutionary army. goal ... finding the truth about ohara and taking down the world government. bounty ... skill(s) ... navigation/a natural sense of direction, windsurfing, mechanical repair, swordsmanship, archery, rock-climbing. chosen weapon ... her left arm houses a weapons system (a reloadable gun in her index finger, while the rest of the fingers can turn into blades, and a storage in her forearm for sea-stone tipped arrows. the metal is infused with sea stone in order to use it for offense and defense against devil fruit users), a crossbow strapped to her back, arrows stored in her arms.

faceclaim / reference image ... may calamawy.

eye color ... golden, like wheat in the sunlight. hair color/style ... light brown with natural highlights from time spent in the sun, curly and thick, hanging down to her lower back or tied up in a messy bun.

dominant hand ... originally, left but had to learn to use her right hand when she lost her arm. after being fixed with a prosthetic, she practices using her left once more, so now she can make use of both. though, she's now more used to using her right for writing and more delicate procedures and left for everything else. height ... 7'2.

tattoo(s) ... tbd. piercing(s) ... a variety of piercings on her left ear, only a couple on her right, tongue piercing, a left eyebrow hoop piercing.

marks/scars ... scar that starts from the right side of her bottom lip to mid chin, scarring at the edges of her shoulder where her arm was severed.

notable body trait(s) ... a metal prosthetic for her left arm.

abilities ... armament haki, observation haki, advanced use of four out of six rokushiki (soru, rankyaku, shigan, and geppo).

fears ...

trait(s) ... outspoken, cynical, suspicious/distrustful, antisocial, selfish, determined to a fault, sarcastic, jaded, excellent memory, always late, patient, self-sacrificing to a cause.

character tropes ... fate vs. choice, the cynic looking for hope, doomed character, no one can save me but me, guard dog-coded, trapped in your own morality, truth seeker, knight-coded, losing your identity to the cause.

in-world information / lore ...

born in the north blue to clover d. mavis, iselda is the grand niece of professor clover. though, she never meets him as her mother has been away from ohara on an exploration of the world for a few years by then. iselda's father is a marine who mavis nursed back to health after finding him shipwrecked and separated from his unit.

despite her wariness, the two fall in love and iselda is born. however, after seven years, her father wishes to return to the navy. holding onto her desire to travel the world once more and to continue her explorations, as well as the knowledge that as an oharan citizen could put herself and iselda in danger, they separate reluctantly.

on the island iselda is born, there's an oracle who reveals she knows mavis' secret as an inheritor of D. she foretells that iselda will bring ruin and chaos "at the appointed time".

iselda loses her arm at 10 years old after a traumatic event, involving bandits on an island her and her mother are exploring. the event results in her cutting off her own arm and nearly dying if it wasn't for the village's doctor.

while mavis' travels aren't with the purpose of finding information on the void century and even more so now that she has iselda, she finds important information regarding the poneglyphs and makes the decision to return to ohara.

on the way to ohara, the pair are shipwrecked and separated. iselda drifts for some time until she washes ashore on an island. the very same one where she'd lost her arm, and they nurse her back to help. she's about 14-15 years old at this point.

a few days later, the report about ohara comes in and she's struck with grief. her mother had shared brief truths about the island and their goal, but had emphasized this as a secret never to be revealed. days after that, they received the wanted poster for nico robin.

at 17 years old, the island is overrun by corrupt marines, seeking to extort money from the village and use the place as a secret base for their dealings. in the year that they occupy the town, iselda listens in on their dealings and hatches a plan to infiltrate the navy to learn more about the truth of ohara.

at 18, before she leaves to enlist for the navy--- as a show of gratitude to the town, she destroys the makeshift base and launches an attack on the marines left behind there while the others had returned to headquarters.

after successfully enlisting into the navy, she is first trained within a unit headed by sengoku, where she meets donquixote rosinante, but shortly thereafter is transferred to be trained under monkey d. garp.

she rises through the ranks to captain, but stops there as she doesn't want to owe more "loyalty" than she needs to do the world government.

she's deeply affected by the death of donquixote rosinante, dropping off the grid for several months before returning to the navy to fulfill her original purpose and to exact revenge on those responsible for his death.

she later joins SWORD --- on a mission with them, she comes across the revolutionary army. from there, she begins to help the army using the navy only in name.

by this time, she meets monkey d. dragon and learns of the inherited will of ohara. (more on present arc tbd).

possible in-world connections ... iselda's world is very open to interacting with anyone, whether pirate, revo army, marines, canon and oc alike. specifically, nico robin, trafalgar law, monkey d. garp, monkey d. dragon, koby, kuzan, doflamingo, etc.

additional information/plot points/tidbits ...

iselda is often late or just on time. she has been left behind a number of times and stranded on islands, needing to seek passage to her destination. she's also late to meetings, appointments, etc.

she pretends to have a bad memory. in reality, she has an excellent memory.

she's deeply conflicted by her position in the navy. regardless of her goals and her reasons for being there, iselda recognizes the conflict it presents to her own nature + belief system.

she has a casual obsession with being a D inheritor. although, she has come to realize that the path she has taken will likely result in her death, some part of her wonders if the reason she hasn't died yet is because the will of D hasn't yet found her death's purpose.

[ziorea]

Sand and Stings

There was more than one reason she came down to Uldam.  The World Faire was a great perk.  The bounty hunters and she had been enjoying the food, treats, and the plethora of plushies being sold. 

An order had been put into the group to clean the area of scorpions bound to get too close and leave partygoers making their makers.  Of course, a regular Joe could take care of little ones.  These beasts they hunted here the size of the local camels.  The noise and sounds of the fair seemed to engage the wild creatures.  The increase of attacks by them was hidden from partygoers.

The group shared the wealth between them, however the person who got the kill always received a bonus.    Ziorea was often sent ahead to scout, with her rune she would give them the location, and then the team would show up to deal with the monsters together.  

Now she watched a single giant one skitter along into the sand.  The scorpion searched for shade to avoid the heat coming in with the rising sun.   This one was hers, she would surprise them all. 

“What you did was foolish.”  He scolded her, a cloth dabbed against her forehead cleaning up the cut.

“It was my hunt, I would have had the beast had you and the others not showed up hooping and hollering like bandits drunk of ale.”   Ziorea was never one to snap and often kept her cool.  This time bitterness played havoc on her mood. 

“What I saw was you in its claw and being tossed into the air.  We still cannot figure out why it didn’t stab you with its tail.  You could have been poisoned.  Not ragdolled around.”  Kel reached for the needle to sew up her face.  For some reason, his magic didn’t work on her.  Another question for another time. 

“I was going to tame it okay, I was making friends.  If I could have tamed that beast all the others would have listened.  He is like the king of scorpions.”  Ziorea sighed, a glance given to the rest of the group.  Scerven their leader held up one of the giant claws of the now dead so-called scorpion king.  He had made the killing blow, the extra coins they made from the kill would go to him. 

Kel grabbed her chin so Ziorea had to look at him. “This is going to sting” 

Her eyes narrowed but she gave a nod. “Try not to leave a scar.”

“Only if you stop trying to prove yourself to him and call us when you find the mark.”  

[reneees]

A light of her night.

Her sitting peccadilloes.

Prefatory bold lies.

Bandit hoops

Nascent loves on ancillary sheets of essays, her.

Fervent lover, dine me.

Her.

Sunidhi

[nightguide]

NEW AMERICAN DUBAI NIGHTLIFE PLAYLOST: UNIVERSITY

TOP 200

ANSON SEABRA FT. RIZZLE KICKS: RHODE ISLAND

LINNA RIAZ: ENEMY

NEJ: PARO

DONNA SUMMER: BAD GIRLS (GIGAMESH REMIX)

DEMI LOVATO: GIVE IT TO ME

LINNA RIAZ: HEYELLO

PERRIE EDWARDS: YOU GO YOUR WAY

MCFLY: FIVE COLOURS IN HER HAIR

KATY PERRY (LINNA RIAZ REMIX): WITNESS

MIKEY WAX: BOTTLE OF JACK (ACHTABAHN REMIX)

LINNA RIAZ FT. PICTURE THIS: INTO THE AM

JEFF BUCKLEY: PETRICHOR

ANSON SEABRA: LAST MAN

HAILEE STEINFELD: SUNKISSING

LINNA RIAZ: EXTRAORDINARY

MAROON 5: ONE MORE NIGHT

DEMI LOVATO FT. LINNA RIAZ: LIKE I NEVER NEEDED ANYONE

ANSON SEABRA: NEW EDEN

TAYLOR SWIFT: I KNOW PLACES

LINNA RIAZ: CAIRO

LAWSON: JULIET

TRAIN: THRACE

SMALLPOOLS: DREAMING

JEFF BUCKLEY: YEH JO HALKA HALKA SUROOR HAE

TINIE TEMPAH FT. ELLIE GOULDING: WONDERMAN

LINNA RIAZ: PLUTO

GOTYE: SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW

BEYONCE: RISE

KATY PERRY: TEENAGE DREAM

PARAMPARA TANDON: CHHOR DENGE

TARAN: CIGARETTE MAN

JESSIE J: DO IT LIKE A DUDE

ELIZA DOOLITTLE: ROLLERBLADES

CALVIN HARRIS FT. ELLIE GOULDING: OUTSIDE

TAYLOR SWIFT: SEVEN

FUN: CARRY ON

LILY ALLEN: SMILE

RED HOT CHILLI PEPPERS: BY THE WAY

BILLIE EILLISH FT. LINNA RIAZ: LONELY THE BROKEN

SABRINA CARPENTER: ESPRESSO

ALICIA KEYS: NO ONE

MITSKI: ME AND MY HUSBAND

JORDIN SPARKS: BATTLEFIELD

LITTLE MIX: DNA

DEMI LOVATO: UNBROKEN

JONAH KAGEN: MONSOON

LINNA RIAZ: IF HE LOVED ME

TRAIN: DRIVE BY

DEMI LOVATO: ASHES ON MY WAY TOMORROW

DEMI LOVATO: GIVE YOUR HEART A BREAK

DEAN LEWIS: EMPIRES

DEAN LEWIS: MADE

LITTLE MIX (LINNA RIAZ REMIX): SEXY DIRTY LOVE FT. DEMI LOVATO

SELENA GOMEZ: SLOW DOWN

TAYLOR SWIFT: IN BRUGES FT. THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

RITA ORA: I WILL NEVER LET YOU DOWN

COLDPLAY: A SKY FULL OF STARS

MOLLY: CHILDREN OF THE UNIVERSE

ANSON SEABRA: I CAN LOVE ANYONE (AS LONG AS IT'S YOU)

DEMI LOVATO: TOO MUCH LOVE

RED HOT CHILLI PEPPERS: SCAR TISSUE

JONAH KAGEN FT. LILY MEOLA: MADE UP MY MIND

DEMI LOVATO: EITHER WAY

NATASHA BEDINGFIELD: THESE WORDS

DEMI LOVATO: 29

KATY PERRY: WIDE AWAKE

TRAIN FT. CAM, TRAVIE MCCOY: CALL ME SIR

SIA: ELASTIC HEART

KATY PERRY: INTERNATIONAL LOVERS

DEMI LOVATO: EAT ME

JORDIN SPARKS FT. CHRIS BROWN: NO AIR

DEAN LEWIS (SCARES ME REQUIEM FT. LINNA RIAZ OFFICIAL NIGHTGUIDEBLOG: HARPER ST. JAMES): WE'LL BE

TRAIN: DROPS OF JUPITER

DEMI LOVATO: MR. HUGHES

FLAGSHIP: ARE YOU CALLING

DEMI LOVATO: WILDFIRE

JASON DERULO: WHAT IF

ONE DIRECTION: WHERE WE ARE

LP: LOST ON YOU

PICTURE THIS FT. DEAN LEWIS: MIDDLE OF LOVE

LP: OTHER PEOPLE

JEFF BUCKLEY: YEH JO HALKA HALKA SAROOR HAE

JASON DERULO: SAVAGE LOVE

JEFF BUCKLEY: SO REAL

LINNA RIAZ: FIRST GLANCE

FIONA APPLE: CRIMINAL

JEFF BUCKLEY: LOVER, YOU SHOULD'VE COME OVER

LINNA RIAZ: ONE MAN

TAYLOR ACORN: FAMOUS LAST WORDS

ALEC BENJAMIN: ZARA ZARA x LET ME DOWN SLOWLY

NICKELBACK: SHE KEEPS ME UP

ANASTACIA: HEAVY ON MY HEART

SIA: FIRE MEETS GASOLINE

DEMI LOVATO: I LOVE ME

KEANE: SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW

CHARLI XCX: GIRL SO CONFUSING

GLASS ANIMALS: HEAT WAVES

LINNA RIAZ: SPECTRUM

DEMI LOVATO: HOLY FVCK

BRIDGIT MENDLER: ALL I SEE IS GOLD

SABRINA CARPENTER: EMAILS I CAN'T SEND

JOHN MAYER: FREE FALLIN

LILY ALLEN: THE FEAR

DEMI LOVATO: HEART ATTACK

LAWSON FT. BOB: BROKENHEARTED

MCFLY: ALL ABOUT YOU

DEAN LEWIS: GRAVEYARDS IN TOKYO

LORDE: THE LOVE CLUB

ROBBIE WILLIAMS: FEEL

THE WANTED: ALL TIME LOW

COVER DRIVE: TWILIGHT

WILEY FT. MS D: HEATWAVE

NELLY FURTADO: BIG HOOPS

LET IT SHINE: GUARDIAN ANGEL

TAYLOR SWIFT FT. BON IVER: EXILE

HALSEY: LONELY IS THE MUSE

LITTLE MIX: TOWERS

TAYLOR ACORN: PSYCHO

BRIDGIT MENDLER: TOP OF THE WORLD

HAILEE STEINFELD: YOU'RE SUCH A

CLEAN BANDIT FT. MABEL, 24K GOLDN

SZA: NOBODY GETS ME

ALAN WALKER FT. INA WROLDSEN: STRONGEST

ALEXANDRA BURKE: BROKEN HEELS

OWL CITY FT. CARLY RAE JEPSEN: GOOD TIME

FEFE DOBSON: STUTTERING

JUSTIN BIEBER: NEVER LET YOU GO

AGNES: RELEASE ME

ANSON SEABRA: WELCOME TO WONDERLAND

MADONNA: HUNG UP

KELLY CLARKSON: STRONGER (WHAT DOESN'T KILL YOU)

JOJO: LEAVE (GET OUT)

HAYD: NO NOTHING

GLEE CAST: ONE OF US

SELENA GOMEZ: STARS DANCE

DEMI LOVATO: YES I AM

TRAIN: HEY, SOUL SISTER

DEAN LEWIS: LOOKS LIKE ME

SHAWN MENDES: WONDER

EMPIRE OF THE SUN: WE ARE THE PEOPLE

JENNIFER LOPEZ FT. PITBULL: ON THE FLOOR

DEMI LOVATO: AFTERSHOCK

TAYLOR ACORN: FIRST DATE

ONE DIRECTION: THATS WHAT MAKES YOU BEAUTIFUL

WEEKND: BLINDING LIGHTS

MITSKI: STRAWBERRY BLONDE

AGNES OBEL: FAMILLIAR

POST MALONE FT. MORGAN WALLEN: I HAD SOME HELP

HARRY STYLES: WATERMELON

JEFF BUCKLEY: NORMAN F ROCKWELL (AI)

CHRIS MEDINA: CUT ME

TAYLOR ACORN: BRICK BY BORING BRICK

ARIANA GRANDE: INTO YOU

THE SCRIPT: BREAKEVEN

MILEY CYRUS: PARTY IN THE USA

EMELI SANDE: HEAVEN

RED HOT CHILLI PEPPERS: CALIFORNICATION

GLEE CAST: THE ONLY EXCEPTION

KATY PERRY: THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY

NICK JONAS: JEALOUS

TAKE THAT: THE FLOOD

BIRDY: SKINNY LOVE

JOJI: DAYLIGHT

FIFTH HARMONY: THATS MY GIRL

NICOLE SCHERZINGER: POISON

LEMONADE MOUTH: DETERMINATE

ANSON SEABRA: ROBIN HOOD

DEAN LEWIS: WAVES

JONAH KAGEN: DROWNING

DEAN LEWIS: HALF A MAN

SONNY WITH A CHANCE: ME, MYSELF AND TIME

SARA BEREILLES: NO VACANCY

VICTORIA JUSTICE: RAW

SARA BEREILLES: SHE USED TO BE MINE

DEMI LOVATO: MADE IN THE USA (DEMO)

FIJI BLUE: I SHOULD'VE TOLD YOU

DIZZEE RASCAL: LOVE THIS TOWN

ARIANA GRANDE FT. KATY PERRY: GREEDY (AI)

COLDPLAY: VIVA LA VIDA

DEMI LOVATO: UNBROKEN (MALE VERSION)

KATY PERRY FT. KANYE WEST: E.T.

BRIDGIT MENDLER: CITY LIGHTS

SARA KAYS: BACKSEAT RIDER

LANA DEL REY: NATIONAL ANTHEM

MIKE TOMPKINS: ALL NIGHT LONG

FUSE ODG: ANTENNA

SARA KAYS: RICH BOY

LOUISA JOHNSON: BEST BEHAVIOUR

CHER LLOYD FT. BECKY G: OATH

PIXIE LOTT: MAMA DO (UH OH UH OH)

ADELE: SOMEONE LIKE YOU

JEFF BUCKLEY: UNCHAINED MELODY (AI)

DEMI LOVATO: HERE WE GO AGAIN

EXAMPLE: MIDNIGHT RUN

KELLY CLARKSON: INVINCIBLE

FAWLIN: FOLLOW YOU ANYWHERE

DOJA CAT: SAY SO

LAUREN DAIGLE: YOU SAY

TIM BUCKLEY: SONG OF THE SIREN

JESSIE J: DOMINO

REGULARLY UPDATED

[nvrcmplt]

With still heavy eyelids, the dragoness peered into the dark room. The faint light from the lamppost outside crept in through a crack between curtains, causing long eerie shadows. One of which that made her hair stand on end. It then became apparent what exactly had awoken her.

In an instant her eyes flew open and she sat upright in her bed, face to face with a creature she'd never seen before. Another person's tooth beneath the pillow behind her.

"I think I've had too much ramen before bed...," she muttered to herself. "Or was it the sake?"

// for Tand Fé

"Oh molars no - neither, lass." A chime in tone, movement of the giant fae was without fanfare but confusion amongst the senses. They were tall, terribly tall - shouldn't at all fit within the room and yet the ceiling near touched their crescent horns, the floor never cracked under pin-point ending limbs. Instead they chimed as if hollow metal against stone, a tune if one was to listen well beyond their prior drunken state. Mouthless but not without voice, did the Being of Teeth, lower themselves only slight to reach out with spindly arm, fingers poised with motion to pinch something from them? Well, no, not them, her, the creature that scents of blossom touched waters but beyond them.

Garments of white, glistening stars over chains rest at shoulder and throat, bangles and gauntlets and hoops, lots of them trinkle their figure as if royalty stepped from the voids above. It wouldn't be far off, but still, over dressed and oddly dressed, a presence that spoke of something of the highest of orders in their wears. Movements gentle, graceful, spidery-yet without the creep factor even though they are a being akin more to the looks of a giant insect or alien. The biggest feature was indeed a cape of the most bluest of blues, dotted in stars and fur around their neck, a fluff as misty as a lakes fog and as soft as a morning yawn.

"Pardon me, lass. Just a little something for me under here." A shift of pillow, the bone cradled in metal tin and fabric. Ah, delightful gift. A cherished tooth, though They were confused upon them, settled within the sheets. They could tell without seeking inside her jowls that she was not missing a single tooth and yet, she slept with one under their pillow. How queer. Just ignore how They tut at the lack of missing teeth from them.

Still, Tand Fé smiled, strangely a thing to be felt or just known by her, without a mouth to show it. Delight in bonfire hues, a dance of liquid flame and warmth, a flicker of adoration as tin was held within three pointed digits. "Oh, they treat me so well… This world is just delightful for keeping tradition. Do you wish to see it? Ah, no I should wait - this little gem needs my full attention." Ah, how They marvelled, almost danced upon the bloody spot in their joy of such a treasure.

Still, They had to control themselves, staring upon their toothful guest and instead lowering attention from the tin for a moment to look them over. Not of their stock, their blood was something special but not of this country or origin, a foreign little tooth-bandit. "Well, I guess should ask who it is that sleeps with my treasure." Did she steal teeth from those that lost them? A faux-tooth fairy? Wonderous, a rather noble profession but Tand Fé wasn't so sure now.. Hm.

"The fact you see me states more that meets the eye here. Whilst not rare, it is strange for those outside of my boundary to see what I am." Though itching to see the tooth in its glory, They were polite, awaiting their turn to speak… Tand Fé at the moment, wasn't sure if they could return the tin with gift inside for the toothless being to find in the coming morn with her.

[theadventurerslog]

Quest For Glory 1: So You Want to Be a Hero | Part 3

The Adventurer's Log

Onward and questward! Or something.

Things started off with a bang, by which I mean I was chewed on, stabbed, killed at least 3 times as I stubbornly tried to make it to Erana's peace with low health to sleep there for the night instead of in town. I wanted to be ready to explore!

I also needed to still get the calm spell again so it was two birds with one stone or would have been if I remembered that I didn't have Open yet after the prior money woes. Cinder Win is a bumbling hero; I'm going to just accept this fact (it's me, I'm the bumbling hero). Anyway, I made it eventually with a lot of casting flame dart for practice and run run running when that would lead to a fight. Stumbled on in with 5HP and passed the heck out.

It's the wizardly way right? Cast spells and run like hell.

I'm having a lot of gaps here both in posting and in even playing, so for the sake of you dear reader and for my own sake I'm going to list some goals here and try to get back on track:

Get Open spell!

Get money for said Open - needed 23 more silver

Go back for Calm spell with Open

Deal with that kobold and chained bear - want Open and Calm spells

Find Erasmus the wizard

Find Baba Yaga's hut

Collect green fur and fairy dust: my two missing ingredients for the Dispel Potion

I decided to go try to find Erasmus first and maybe I'd find some money on the way. Thankfully, I have kept some notes and had been told he's somewhere eastward of town. Going back to town instead of running to Erana's Peace to rest would have been the more convenient option, but I just had to play the hand I dealt myself.

I got off to a great start in not realizing that my save was before I rested rendering my previous statement of passing the hell out a lie. So I ran off!

I prepped to run that is.

I ran into a saurus. I could fight a saurus maybe! I only had 5 health and died pretty much immediately.

SO FIRST.

I slept.

For real this time.

THEN I set off.

I ran into a bandit. I got him with a couple flame darts before the battle started which got him wounded.

It was hopeful!

I died.

I beat a goblin and got 8 silver! Slowly, ever so slowly, the competence grows.

I stopped by the stable to work too which got me up to 20 silver. There were only 10 more to go.

And I beat a saurus! I'm actually starting to win fights.

After some wandering and dead ends including a place blocked off by the remnants of an avalanche I found Erasmus' Tower.

I was greeted by signs that said different things such as:

"Welcome to Magic Mountain!" and "Trespassers Will Be Toad."

Are any other 'go away' signs really needed with that one?

At the top a gargoyle guarded the entry and I had to answer some questions to be allowed in.

I flubbed the first time because he asked about the baron's name and for some reason that translated to the baron's son in my brain. I read too fast or something. I didn't remember the baron's name anyway, so either way I was hooped there. He teleported me back to the sign area, so no big deal really, except for my poor stamina that was really getting drained by that climb.

Of course it was time to examine all the things.

King's Quest! Rosella!

I tried entering to the right and got warped away. Forbidden room.

So, I behaved and went upstairs to meet the wizard himself.

And his familiar(?) Fenrus. He invited me to play a game as a wizard...

Except there was a wee little caveat...

Way to rub it in!

I asked him about a few things and got some info and scolded for asking about too many boring things. But as for the info:

Baba Yaga is good at curses and shape changing spells. She has a nasty temper.

The brigands have a supposed warlock but he thinks he's more nincompoop than necromancer. He laughs too much when casting.

In order to be a wizard you need to have undergone initiation at the Wizard's Institute of Technocery in the South. Or WIT.

He also told me a couple jokes. Such as:

"Do you know what you get when a Tyrannosaurus running eastward meets a Tyrannosaurus running westward?

Tyrannosaurus wrecks!"

Har har. He has several jokes. They're bad. I love them.

I badgered him with too many boring questions and he teleported me back.

I didn't exactly have much else to do there anyway, so I took that quick trip back and carried on my merry way.

I made my way back to the town gates and ran into Bruno who had information for money. I paid him and learned Baba Yaga is due west of the castle and if I paid him two gold he'd tell me how to get into her hut. Not money I had!

So I figured I'd get back to exploring. I thought I'd cast a Zap on my weapon, you know, prepare. I cast it in front of him... Big mistake...

I went exploring and did some panicky running from monsters which is a problem for mapping because I found the entryway to the brigand's lair...

And not touching that.

I ran and found Baba Yaga's area but where I couldn't say!

I could chat with the big skull on the gate, the gate opener. He's a bitter fellow because all the other skulls get glowing eyes and he doesn't.

He'll let me in if I can get him a glowing gem.

Night was approaching and I was going to sleep at the inn after eating there, but it would cost 5 silver! I'm struggling with money as is! So I booked it to Erana's Peace again.

I still needed to find green fur and fairy dust for the potion. I also could sell the healer cheetuar claws (not happening), troll beard (not happening) or magic mushrooms--could happen! So, it was time to explore more was my initial thought.

Until I stepped outside Erana's Peace into a brigand and managed to defeat him and he was carrying a whopping 21 silver. That brought me up to 38 and I was back in business! Open Spell and things I need it for here I come. And 9 more from a goblin! Competence! And burning through MP.

I bought back my Open Spell at last. I ran back to Erana's Peace to get the Calm spell back at last. I wasn't in the best shape, but progress!

I figured I'd find my way back to Erasmus. I want to tackle the kobold and the bear when I'm in better shape, especially MP-wise. I want the calm spell for the ogre and the bear, and open for the chest, and flame dart for the kobold? That's a lot of casting. That's a start-fresh- in a new day sort of task.

I made my way back to Erasmus and he asked if I had several spells which I did until he got to Trigger which I don't. He told me Henry the Hermit has it and is located at the Flying Falls to the south. He also informed me he set up a bunch of spells there for Henry that would then be set off by trigger, so in a way he could cast lots of spells.

I also asked him about a few more things like the curse on the baron from Baba Yaga which can be counter cursed.

For now, I guess it was off to the hermit. I've found that area before I had to find it again.

I had an oddly peaceful trip there.

Then I got stuck. I could open the door with the spell but there was no way up. I got some magic skill up in trying to cast anything I could but no other progress, so I decided to go back to exploring. Maybe I'm missing something.

I found mushrooms!

I ate one because of course. Surprisingly it doesn't kill you.

I just got a bit high... though I realized maybe I could have eaten more...

Yep, there it was. Of course you can die eating them.

Nearby I found these fellows popping in and out of ground.

Meeps!

I tried talking to them which got them chattering underground until the green popped back up willing to talk.

I asked for some fur and he obliged! And tossed out a scroll while he was at it.

The scroll was Detect Magic! Maybe that'll help with the hermit.

It did! Detect Magic briefly revealed a ladder up the cliff which I was able to climb. I knocked and the door opening knocked me off. It took me a few tries to get out of the way in time... But once I got it, Henry let me in.

We had a bit of a chat and I asked about Trigger scroll which he was willing to give me. My spell arsenal grows!

He also let me sleep there in exchange for rations and playing a game of cribbage. Unfortunately it wasn't very good sleep, so I was still in poor shape for HP and my MP was only partially recovered. Slightly regret that but night was falling, so...

Ah well, I went back to the healer to sell my mushrooms and give her the green fur. All I needed left for the dispel potion was the fairy dust.

In the meantime hopefully I have all the spells Erasmus wants. So, heading back to him, AGAIN, is the first goal for next time.

[mielmoto]

@visionkept said:

❝ if you leave now, i can hold them off! ❞

"I'M FINE, JUST GO ON WITHOUT ME!" PROMPTS | accepting

         Their words ring not as a simple statement, nor a warning, but a COMMAND—gone is the easy humor of their voice, the casual warmth and charm, replaced instead by something concise, sharp; the battle-hardened knowing of an honest-to-goodness SAMURAI. It was easy to forget, sometimes, (in the sprightly conversation and traded laughter; in teasing banter and quiet walks), that theirs was a name echoed with respect, awe, and a reasonable amount of fear in certain circles for a reason.

        It would seem, then, that she had every reason to heed such an order—wasn't that what she'd HIRED them for in the first place? protection?

        Someone to scare off the stray nobushi and other bandits said to plague the island roads; to make any leery eyes think twice about trying to accost the extravagant little traveler, a barrier between scavengers and seemingly easy, delicate prey. And it worked a charm, most days: a scuffle here-or-there when a few felt bold enough to try their steel, or when their path strayed a touch too close to some abyssal servant's camp; nothing beyond what they could handle in a quick dance of their blade and some flashes of lightning from the vision at their side.

         This was not what she'd intended, and yet had none but HERSELF to blame. They hadn't objected when she steered them off the beaten path which wove by Araumi, hadn't raised more than an eyebrow and a halfhearted question as to "what could [she] possibly be looking for down there?" as she lead them further into the broken temple, acting lackadaisical and curious as ever. She didn't—couldn't—explain the pull which so often drew her into these ancient depths... but, usually, she had the good sense to answer that call alone.

         Not like this: dragging them down into the mire of stone and mystery only to awaken the slew of ruin machines which had long slept in the abandoned chambers, stirred violently to life in an instant. Perhaps it's the suddenness, perhaps the sheer number, but either way their kimono is shorn through on one arm with a searing blow before either could gather their bearings, and another blast narrowly dodged as Tomoya quickly strafed and took Honey along with them; putting themself between her and the brood of automatons.

❝ if you leave now, i can hold them off! ❞

         Maybe so. And maybe they thought that was the best call, with good reason: get their clumsy, combat-adverse employer out of the frenzy before she could suffer any serious consequences for her carelessness; clear the way for them to fight as ferociously as they could, for however long it may last... but they were already hurt. Already a step behind, even as they threw themself back into the heat of battle and fought to draw attention away from her. She could escape, yes, in that narrow window of opportunity they'd carved out—but what about THEM?

         No time for questions. She RUNS.

         The violent violet crackle of electro in the air suddenly catches, shimmers, as it amplifies through a mist of glassy crystals, iridescent spotlights dapple the harsh automaton figures and cold stone walls as the gem at the heart of her catalyst spins and flourishes, a rhythm closely synched to the pulsing light of the VISION which laid over her racing heart. She was at their side in an instant, with an urgency seldom (read as: never) seen.

         ❝ that wasn't our deal, though, was it?❞ Honey shifts; the ornate hoops of the jeweled catalyst spin, chasing their strikes with a burst of bitterly cold elemental energy, all while a soothing shrowd of cool, cryo dust circles them, MENDING what damage had been done thus far and preparing for that still to come. ❝ I told you: I feel much safer with someone strong at my side, so I'm not about to run off all on my own now—not without MY samurai.❞

[i-am-the-oyster]

Bad Boy (Larry Williams)

Sung by John, released on the American album Beatles VI in June 1965

A bad little kid moved into my neighborhood He won't do nothing right Just sitting down and looks so good He don't want to go to school and learn to read and write Just sits around the house and plays the rock and roll music all night Well, he put some tacks on teacher's chair Puts chewing gum in little girl's hair Now, junior, behave yourself Buys every Rock and Roll book on the magazine stand Every dime that he gets, (oh), he's off to the jukebox man Well he worries his teacher 'til at night she's ready to poop From rocking and a rolling, spinning in a hula-hoop Well his rock and roll has gotta stop Junior's head is hard as rock Now, junior, behave yourself, aw! Aw! Aw! Gonna tell your mama, you better do what she said Get to the barber shop and get that hair cut off your head You shoot the canary, and you fed it to the neighbor's cat You gave the cocker spaniel a bath in mother's laundromat Well, in mama's head it's got to stop Junior's head is hard as rock Now, junior, behave yourself, whoa

Not Such A Bad Boy (Paul McCartney)

From the movie and album Give My Regards to Broad Street

I laughed at the teachers Who taught in my school They kept one armed bandits in the swimming pool They don't understand me But they never will And if was there I'd be telling them still I'm not such a bad boy no more, no more, no more I'm not such a bad boy no more, no more, no more I followed the leader Into her tent But nobody told me that she owed some rent She wanted to love me, I wanted to go. But she taught me things that I needed to know I'm not such a bad boy no more, no more, no more I'm not such a bad boy no more, no more, no more She wanted to love me, I wanted to go Well she taught me things that I needed to know I'm not such a bad boy no more, no more, no more I'm not such a bad boy no more, no more, no more I talked to my lawyer, he picked up my bail Won't someone get me out of this lousy jail? We're both in agreement that crime never pays And I should be out in a couple of days I'm not such a bad boy no more, no more, no more I'm not such a bad boy no more, no more, no more I'm not such a bad boy no more, no more, no more I'm not such a bad boy no more, no more, no more