#I haven’t played pillars of eternity yet (started nothing else)

[ranger-danger]

Maybe, mayhaps, Varric’s narration at the end of the quests isn’t meant to be dead serious. Like how there are many moments in the games that aren’t dead serious. Maybe the narration still builds up tension and worry about a situation, while still keeping it lighthearted enough. Maybe it gives you a break from the tension while still allowing build up. Maybe that’s the point, the point is to be a little goofy.

Maybe the game itself isn’t meant to be this big serious fantasy game. It still has many moments of being serious and having genuine tension & emotion, but maybe it’s not meant to always be dead serious. How do you hear Rook imitating Varric and assume that the games going to be super serious all the way through?

Please just critique the game for actual reasons it deserves to be critiqued.

And for the love of all that’s well in the world, play literally any other rpg than bg3 or accept that bg3 is not written well. I wilt everytime someone thinks bg3 is the epitome of good rpgs. At the very least play the first two baldur’s gate games. Or y’know break away from RPGs and literally any narrative game.

[wlntrsldler]

Could you maybe do Love Story for George? I will leave the details up to you but I do love the way you write him.

PROMPT: based on love story by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) George has a crush on a shy Hufflepuff. 

WC: 1.6K+

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

-

love story (g.w one shot)

George didn’t know what it was about you that caught his attention first. It was like his life at Hogwarts was divided into two parts: before he met you and after he met you. It was like before he met you, after every prank, successful or not, he would bask in the cheers and laughter of every Hogwarts student. He and Fred had that in common- arrogant, at times, but never egocentric. Okay.. maybe a little bit, he’ll admit. He would walk through the corridors of the school, high-fiving all the students who worshiped his and Fred’s pranks. He loved it, to say the least. He loved looking into the crowd of people who loved him for doing what he loved to do. 

But after he met you, when he met your eyes for the first time as you stood towards the back of the crowd that formed around him and Fred for winning a Quidditch match, he found himself looking for you everywhere he looked. When he made his way to the Great Hall, his eyes searched for you at every house’s table. He’d zone out, ignoring his twin’s incessant chatter about their next prank. He even tripped on his own feet, more times than he’s willing to admit, because he was too focused on trying to find you. Eventually, Fred caught onto his crush, taking every opportunity to tease him about it. 

George wanted to talk to you. Godric, did he want to talk to you, but he didn’t know where to start. What if you didn’t like his pranks? What if you thought he was annoying because of his obnoxiously loud laughter? He didn’t even know what house you were in! Even worse, he didn’t even know your name! George mentally scold himself, cursing that he let years pass before he even noticed you. But now that he knew who you were, Merlin, was he going crazy. 

After a few weeks of obsessively searching for you in everything that he did, he finally found you. You were in the greenhouse, caring for plants with Neville. Truth be told, he probably wouldn’t have found you if he wasn’t sneaking around to pluck a leaf from a plant that Professor Sprout was caring for, for a prank he and Fred were going to pull on Filch.

He hid behind one of the pillars leading towards the greenhouse, watching as you helped Neville properly care for the plants. George watched you as you mumbled words of encouragement to the young Gryffindor, walking away to tend to your own duties. He saw the yellow tie you wore proudly around your neck. He couldn’t help but continue to stare at you, finding your movements so captivating. It wasn’t until Neville spotted him and raised an eyebrow in confusion that he realized how odd he must’ve looked. 

Blushing furiously, he emerged from behind the pillar and began to walk towards the greenhouse. He was thanking his lucky stars that your back was turned from him, not catching him. George looked at Neville, widening his eyes a bit and using his head to motion for the door. It took a minute for Neville to understand what George was saying but when he did, the boy giggled softly before removing his apron. 

“Hey, Y/N?” Neville asked. 

Y/N, George thought, even her name is gorgeous. 

“Yeah?” You turned around, expecting Neville to be the only one in the greenhouse. When your eyes met George’s, your jaw dropped a bit, not realizing you had company. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, suddenly becoming too aware of your disheveled appearance. You’ve been working in the greenhouse all day, you haven’t had the time to clean yourself up. “Oh, h-hi.” 

Neville discretely nudged George’s arm, already understanding that George most likely had a crush on you. He was glad, he knew George well enough to know that he was a good guy. You were the only one who was kind to him and helped him fuel his love for Herbology, stating that you saw a lot of yourself in him. George was one of the few people who stood up for him when he was being teased, so for that, he was eternally grateful. 

“I forgot I had something to do today, is it okay if I leave you a bit early today?” Neville asked, already half-way out the door. 

Reluctantly, you nodded, a bit suspicious with the boy. “Sure, Nev. Meet here on Tuesday?”

“Mhm!” He called out, closing the door behind him. Through the glass, you heard his muffled farewell, “Bye, Y/N! Bye, George!”

Your cheeks turned a shade of pink, realizing that now it was just you and George. You tried to flatten out your hair, trying to salvage a bit of your appearance. You snuck a quick glance at your reflection, grimacing when you realized that it didn’t help you much. Giving up, you smiled shyly at the ginger boy in front of you, who was watching you with an amused smirk on his face. You cleared your throat, “How can I help you, George?”

George’s eyebrows shot up in surprise when his name left your lips. You said his name so beautifully. The tips of his ears turned red and all of his found confidence quickly faded away, “Y-you know who I am?” 

“‘Course I do,” you giggled, turning back around to tend to your assignment, and to hide your blush. “You’re legendary, you know.”

George heard those words from other people before. He heard it nearly everyday, but when you said it, nobody else mattered. She thinks I’m legendary, a voice in his head sang. It took all of his being to not do a happy dance right then and there. But then he realized that you knew who he was- not just that he was a Weasley, but you could tell him and Fred apart. “How do you know I’m not Fred?” 

You looked over your shoulder, his words making you doubt your certainty. Your eyes raked over his body, stopping at the small indent on his left cheek, a defining mark of George Weasley. It was almost unnoticeable, almost. Your lips quirked up to a smile, shrugging, “I just do.” 

“Hmm, I’ll learn your wicked ways one day, Ms. Y/N,” he grinned, now standing beside you. 

You secretly hoped he’d never find out. It wasn’t really easy to explain that you’ve stared at him so much over the years that you’ve now learned their mini differences. You’ve had a crush on the younger twin for years, but being the shy Hufflepuff that you are, never once made a move. You’ve admired him from afar, opting to spare yourself from embarrassment. 

You cleared your throat, “What did you need, Mr. George Weasley?”

He began to explain his next prank to you, finding comfort in the way you burst out laughing by the time he finished. You placed a hand over your mouth, wanting to silence your laughter. George bit his bottom lip, trying to contain his smile. He loved the way he made you laugh. Your laugh was like music to his ears. Once you calmed down, you placed your tools down and walked to the other side of the greenhouse. He followed you like a lost puppy, stopping when you did. 

“What’s this?” he asked when you placed a leaf in the middle of his palm. He raised it up, twisting the stem between the pads of his index finger and his thumb. He leaned over and smelled it, “Hmm, not bad.” 

You smiled, “This is the key to making your prank successful. Mix it in with his food and he should be out like a light for a few minutes.” 

George beamed with excitement, using his free hand to raise a thumb up. “Brilliant, thank you, Y/N! I owe you!”

“It’s nothing,” you brushed off, returning to your work. “It’s an honor to play a part in one of your pranks.” 

“Let me make it up to you,” George argued, leaning against the glass walls. “Let me do something to repay you for your kindness.” 

“Truly, it’s nothing, George,” you said, waving him off. 

“Blimey, Y/N,” George groaned, marching over to you. He grabbed your shoulders and made you face him. His touch sent shocks throughout your body, making you look down at your feet. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, embarrassed by the bright red blush you knew stained your cheeks. “You make it so difficult for a guy to ask you out.”

Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. Your jaw was hanging wide open, staring at him in disbelief. He stood there, hands on your shoulders, with a handsome smirk on his face. Did he really need to be that attractive? You questioned, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Dearest Y/N, I was trying to ask you out smoothly but your cute, yet oblivious self, was not catching onto my hints.” 

“I- what?” 

He chuckled, “Just say yes, darling.” 

You gulped, the sound of his laugh sending shivers down your spine. You looked down at where he held you, unable to hold back the smile that was threatening to come out on your face. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, you nodded, “I-uh, s-sure.” 

He let your shoulders go, holding the leaf tightly in his hand, “I’ll see you tonight!”

Shocked and at a loss for words, you barely managed to utter out, “Where?” 

George set you a look over his shoulder, “Quidditch Pitch at 11!”

You listened to his footsteps disappear into the hall, looking down at your feet with a large grin on your face. That night was the start of your very own love story. 

TAGS:

@rexorangecouny

A/N: i have sooo many requests to get through but i promise i’m working on them! sorry they’re taking a while. 

[bramblebeau]

What’s in a name?

Thinly sliced angst with young and dumb filling.  Heartbreak aftermath is good fun :)

Hints of F!Ortega/F!Sidestep.  Spoilers for Retribution open demo and Sidestep’s backstory.  Brief canon-typical mentions of physical trauma.  Brief mention of blood. 

*

“HC641?”

It took her a long time to realise that someone had spoken. A snake sliding through the fog of drugs and pain. How long had it been since she’d heard a voice? The beeping of machines and scraping of metal tools had been the only sounds to reach her for what felt like an eternity. 

That, and the endless screaming in her head. 

She didn’t know how she was still alive.

Maybe she wouldn’t be for long.

Bodies aren’t supposed to stay intact after falls like that. 

“HC641, respond.” 

They were speaking to her, she realised. Some part of her mind recognised her name from all those years ago. No, not a name. Names didn’t have numbers. And names were for people. 

She shouldn’t have forgotten that.

“So, what do I call you?” 

The smile was bright against blood-spattered and bruised skin. It had been a tough fight, but Marshal Charge had pulled through like always. They both had.

Now they were sitting on the concrete floor opposite one another, breathing heavily from exertion. The threat had been dealt with and all was quiet. It was just them now. 

She knew she should move. She needed to disappear, to return to the shadows before Charge started to build a lasting image in her mind. Or ask dangerous questions, like the one now hanging in the air. 

But the warmth of that smile sunk into her bones and weighed down her limbs. She could rest for just a moment, couldn’t she?

“What makes you think we’ll see each other again?” She kept her tone light, casual, even if her thoughts were anything but. 

Charge’s smile didn’t fade. Her mind was unreadable, which was still unsettling, but her intentions were written all over her face. She wasn’t getting away that easy. 

“Oh come on, you’ve been hitting some big targets lately,” Charge shuffled her foot to the side so it tapped her leg, hardly a kick but enough to make her jump from the static shock.

“You’re good,” she continued, her gaze somehow firm and gentle at the same time. “Better than a lot of vigilantes I’ve known, and without all the fanfare.”

“Huh,” she huffed in reply, too tired to argue the point, and not planning on explaining why she chose to be as discrete as possible in her operations. 

“I’m pretty confident I’ll be seeing you again soon.” 

Charge punctuated her words with a wink and, unexpectedly, she felt her cheeks warm in response. Not for the first time, she was thankful for the mask and goggles covering her face.

“Besides, I’d hate to have to start referring to you as ‘The Mysterious Stranger’ or something equally terrible.” 

“I actually think that one’s taken.”

“Ha! It is, isn’t it?” Charge’s rich laugh echoed through the space above them, bouncing between metal and concrete until it became something unrecognisable. “One more reason why you should give me a name.”

“I...don’t have one,” she answered truthfully, confident that Charge would just assume she was talking about a vigilante name. 

“Really?” A look of genuine surprise. “You’re going after assholes like this”, she waved an arm around the ruined warehouse for emphasis, “and you haven’t come up with one yet?”

She shrugged, wincing as the movement pulled at her aching and battered body. 

“Didn’t seem important.”

Charge gave her a strange look that she couldn’t quite read, then quickly slid a wicked smirk over it. 

“Well, you’d better think of one soon, otherwise I will and it’ll be really awful, I promise.”

“As bad as ‘The Mysterious Stranger’?”

Even in the low light she could see her dark eyes glinting with mischief. 

“Oh, much worse.”

“Hell,” she sighed. “Fine. Give me a minute.” 

Charge looked delighted. Smug asshole. 

A voice in her head pointed out that this was what she’d known would happen if she didn’t keep contact to a minimum. Questions would be asked. Questions she wanted to answer even though she shouldn’t, even though they were dangerous, because no one had ever sat and laughed with her before, or looked at her in the way Charge was now. 

Ignoring reason, she spent a few minutes trying to think of something. The woman opposite didn’t seem to mind the wait, closing her eyes and letting her head rest against the concrete pillar at her back. The rise and fall of her chest eventually slowed and she could see some of the adrenaline-fuelled tension slide from her shoulders. If she hadn’t just witnessed the same woman rampaging through the warehouse with lightning bursting from her fists, she might have thought she looked a little vulnerable in that moment. 

Name. Right. That was what she was supposed to be thinking about.

The corner of her mouth twitched when an idea finally came to her. It was stupid, but it wasn’t like she was actually going to use it. It was just something to say to get Charge off her back tonight. If she played her cards right, she could make sure they never even ran into each other again. She’d have to be more careful when choosing targets, pay more attention to news stories and rumours about the Rangers. The last thing she needed was to become associated with the most celebrated and photographed hero in the city. 

The woman in question opened her eyes as the silence finally broke. 

“What about...Sidestep?”

She waited for the raised eyebrows and awkward laugh but neither came. 

“Sidestep?”

A fresh smile bloomed across Charge’s face. How did she make it look so effortless? 

“Yeah, I like that.” 

It shouldn’t have mattered what she thought about the stupid name. It shouldn’t, but her lips still itched with what might have been the beginnings of a smile. 

Charge got to her feet smoothly, as though a few minutes of sitting on a cold hard floor was enough to cure all ills, and held out her hand.

She hesitated, looking at the hand like it was booby-trapped. In a way, it was. But after a moment she finally accepted that Charge probably wasn’t going to electrocute her and reached out with her own. Another static shock made her jump and Charge laughed again, the sound rumbling around them like a summer storm. 

Before she could blink she was on her feet, pulled up like she weighed nothing. Charge’s face was suddenly close. Too close. And her hand was too warm, even through layers of nanomesh and polyester. 

She didn’t have time to panic before Charge patted her arm with a wink and then sauntered off towards the exit. 

“See you soon, Sidestep.” 

No. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about... 

Pain. She was in so much pain. Shattered bones and shattered dreams. Harder to ignore when she remembered what it felt like to be real. 

She didn’t want to be weak in front of them. She didn’t want them to know how much it hurt. But it did. Everywhere all at once. And something else had finally snapped inside her, making way for tears and hysteria. 

“HC641?”

“Please...” she tried to beg through strangled gasps, but only a dry wheeze came out. 

The voice went quiet. 

No more questions. No more words.

She was alone again. Alone with silence and screams.

[aj-artjunkyard]

Trials Of Apollo Oneshot Series CHAPTER SIX

Takes place after the burning maze. Spoilers!

Meg propped her red high-tops up on the wooden table, engorging herself in a greasy chicken wing. I myself reclined on the sofa next to her, chewing on the best tasting fish I’d come across in a long time. The aurae brought whatever food the demigod, legacy or ex-god would like best. In my case, it was a typical ancient greek dinner - grilled fish with a small side dish of olives and olive oil. It reminded me of the old days, the heavenly smell wafting from my mother’s kitchen (minus the olives of course, as they had not yet been invented) while young Artemis and I played with nymphs, climbed trees and held archery competitions. Granted, my mother usually added a garnish of ground ambrosia, but that was slightly too impossible for me in my current state. Still, the thought brought tears to my eyes. I missed my sister and mother, more than words could describe. I managed to blink back the moisture welling up, but I was still glad we dined alone.

Our table looked pathetically desolate compared to the tables around us, which held fifteen demigods each. No one really wanted to talk to those who had pulled their respected leader into a quest which had gotten him killed. So, with our backs to the crowd, we ate in thoughtful silence (at least on my part) until Meg stirred me from my nostalgic reverie.

“You think Ella will finish the book thing in time?” Meg asked, pulling a chicken bone from her mouth and flicking it across the table.

“The Sibylline Books.” I corrected.

“Same difference.” 

“That’s my line.”

“Will they be ready or not?”

I sighed with exasperation at the impatience of my master. 

“I do not know.”

Meg rolled her eyes. 

“You never know anything.”

“Hey! I know as much as my father has left intact in my memories, and that is not my fault.”

Meg ignored my defence, and leaned over to my plate to prod my fish in the eye. 

“That’s gross,” she said, screwing up her face.

“Yes,” I agreed. “It is in fact disgusting to poke someone else’s food when they know you haven’t washed your hands.”

“Not that, dummy.” She pointed at my forkful of fish, which was halfway to my mouth. “That.”

I rolled my eyes and took another bite. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s hardly cooked.”

“It’s grilled.” 

Meg stuffed her face with another few bites. Her mouth was so full I was surprised she could still breathe. “Aren’t you supposed to put batter on it or something?” She asked, spraying my face with spit and bits of chicken. I grudgingly wiped it off. 

“Is there anything you Americans don’t deep fry?” 

In response, Meg lifted her feet off the low table, swivelled around and dropped them heavily onto my legs. She was now lying the length of the sofa while half-draped over me, pinning me to the soft cushioning. “Ow.”

She snorted at my discomfort, then continued to inhale her meat. 

My mind wandered around the possibilities of ever seeing my family again. My uncle Poseidon, who had always been my favourite uncle (although my only other uncles are either titans or Hades, so I guess that doesn’t come across as much of a compliment, but it is). My good friends, Hermes and Dionysus, who were always up for a good prank on Ares or ready with a bottle of wine after an awful day (but remember, alcohol is bad, kids. We only drink it because we are each over 3000 years old. Do not attempt until you are the same age, no matter what Dionysus tells you). My sister, the sharp huntress whom I would defend to the death. My mother. Sacred Sibyl, I missed my mother. I missed her warm hugs, her sweet honeysuckle scent, her soft, caring voice. I couldn’t stand the thought of never feeling her comforting presence again. I had to get home.

…

I woke, drenched in cold sweat and gasping for breath. ‘Blasted nightmares,’ I thought, desperately trying to rip the sheets off myself with shaking hands. My legs were still partially entangled when I attempted to stand, resulting in me thumping loudly to the floor. I grasped around in the dark for the small bedside table to help me stand. When I found the edge, I began to pull myself up, but the table tipped, sending me back to the hard floor and spilling its contents onto my head. The digital clock that clattered beside me read 01:38. I growled at it and stood, despite my quaking limbs. My nightmares had wildly unsettled me in ways I wouldn’t tolerate. ‘You’ll never hang onto those memories’, they taunted. ‘Give it a week and you won’t even remember their names’. 

“Shut up, shut up!” I hissed to myself. I began wondering, stumbling towards to bookshelf at the end of the long room. ‘What kind of brother forgets a sibling?’ “Stop.” ‘What kind of son?’ “Stop it!”

I began to yank old, dusty, leather bound books from the shelf, looking for anything with my name on the front. I needed to remember me. Anything. Anything at all. Finally, a large black book with the emboldened golden letters ‘APOLLŌ’ printed on the spine caught my attention. It was a few inches thick and the cover was almost as wide as my chest. Eyes widening, I harshly ripped the book out from its place, the sudden weight bearing down on my weak arms almost causing me to drop it. I did not wish to make any more noise than I already had. I wrapped it in my gangly human arms and lugged it out the door. 

I cannot say I knew where I was headed. I simply needed to get somewhere, to feel the crisp night wind sting my skin into feeling anything but numbness. I found myself marching up a hill. The extra muscle exertion distracted me from my troubles, so I kept climbing. A good way up the hill, I started to feel the pull of the familiar. Temple Hill. I scanned the assorted statues and . There was no particular order, other than ‘most important at the top’. Further on, a massive red crypt loomed, decorated with flames and human skulls. The name Mars Ultor came to me, but I overlooked it. My mind was so busy with rushing thoughts and doubts that I feared any more information might make my brain explode.

My fingers fidgeted with the tears and rough leather texture of the book in my grasp. I felt as if a band composed of nothing but timpani were performing a drumroll in my mind, getting more and more intense with each passing second. Unable to stand still for much longer, I bolted to my right, keeping my head down and following whatever path was under my feet. 

Maybe the last scraps of my godly essence guided me to the place it felt most at home. My mind was caught in such a flurry of panic that I barely noticed I was climbing marble steps until the steely cold shocked my unprotected soles. I was in an circular, open room held up by bronze pillars that were rimmed with gold. A golden dome sat over my head, and an array of my favourite items littered the right side of the room - a golden bow, a quiver stocked with arrows, an elegant grand piano. In the middle of the temple, an altar sat, waiting for sacrifices. I padded to the back of the room, my bare feet echoing on the smooth marble. Sliding my back down a pillar, I sat and heaved the book open. I was too flustered  to have possibly read a word, but the pictures soothed me. There were a few century-old ink sketches of the 'Apollo Belvedere’ in Rome, next to a modern Polaroid marked ‘Latona and Her Children, Apollo and Diana, carved 1874’ I smiled at the tranquil scene. Mother rarely appeared as such now, certainly not after the invention of many modern braid styles (she got me to teach her how to use Instagram so she can ‘see the videos all those pretty young ladies post’ and learn new hairstyles. She’s admittedly very talented. We tied on our self-held Let’s See Who Can Braid Their Hair The Fastest completion). A tear dripped onto the picture. I turned the page.

This one showed the ‘Diana as Huntress’  statue in Berlin. Artie always huffed about her statues, said they were ‘Too dramatic’. She questioned why she, a seasoned hunter, would ever stand around and wait around for the wind to blow the right direction just so she could look cool to the monsters charging at her and her girls. She can say what she likes, but I know that she prefers it when sculptors include her dogs. Just a thought for any artists out there, looking to gain Diana’s favour *wink*. I grinned at the thought of her thirteen year old form pouting up at me. The memory was fuzzy, but still clearer than usual. I turned the page again.

Again and again I flicked through photos of my relatives, skimming over the paragraphs just enough that it reminded me of their names and their relationships with me. Hermes/Mercury was my impish best friend, who I’d vowed to love for eternity. Hera/Juno was my stepmother who caused my mother and siblings nothing but pain, but somehow we respected each other enough to eat cabbage together and compliment each other’s hair. Dionysus/Bacchus was the ultimate party-man, often inviting me to play for his revelries. 

I turned the page once more. This time, I was met with an image that spanned the length of the two pages. At the top of the page, black threatening letters spelled out ‘JUPITER, FATHER OF APOLLO’ and in smaller writing ‘St Petersburg, Hermitage Museum’. Even from glancing into those blank, marble eyes, my anger spiked. ‘There he is’, I thought, ‘sitting all smug on his little stupid throne-’ I admit, my thoughts turned to bitter toddler-like insults. But looking at the god responsible for my misery made me want to throw the book across the temple and storm away. So I did just that. The book smacked into the alter (which tipped) and thumped open onto the floor cover side up, the crusty pages wrinkling under the force. I left the hook where the golden bow had hung empty as I went.

…

Twang!

The arrow just inside the red circle of the target, and I mentally awarded myself seven points. Not that it mattered. Judging by the moon’s position in the inky sky, it was now 3am - I had been at Camp Jupiter’s open-air archery range for almost two hours. No one else had been here when I arrived, and I was glad it had stayed that way. I needed time alone. To stew. I had first come out with the intention to ‘practice’ (still an alien concept to ex-flawless archers such as myself), but now, this long into the session, I was only blowing off steam. Channeling my frustration into every loose of an arrow, imagining the target as everyone who had wronged me over the course of this forsaken punishment. My knuckles tightened. My eyes narrowed. My shoulders tensed. 

Twang! An arrow buried itself deep in the flesh of Commodus’ shoulder.

Twang! A wooden shaft protruded from Caligula’s throat.

Twang! Blood seeped through the mauve suit surrounding Nero’s manipulating, insensitive heart.

Twang! Zeus howled in pain at the arrow embedded in his sternum.

Twang! Python writhed in agony, agony he deserved-

“Apollo!”

I yelped and my shot went wildly off course, flying high with no power or distance, and landing in the grass in front of the target with a thud. Whipping around, I was about to tell whoever it was to GO AWAY when I was met with an equally startled young man, dressed in pyjama bottoms and the signature purple Camp Jupiter t-shirt, with the gold letters SPQR emblazoned boldly on the front. He quickly raised his hands in a placid manner, showing that he meant no harm. Nevertheless, I remained on guard. There had been a few who had not exactly welcomed the bearers of Jason’s coffin warmly, and this had been a close friend of the son of Jupiter. I feared I could not take this particular demigod in a fight. Even though he looked to be not much older than myself, he towered above me - perhaps a few inches beyond six foot tall, which made my lanky 5”6 feel minuscule. He had handsome asian features and soft brown eyes that I wagered could shift from kindness to anger in moments. He wore jet black hair in a military cut, making him seem like the world’s youngest army general.

“Frank Zhang.” I nodded to him once before turning back to my anger outlet. I was in no mood to talk. Not after loosing any way to contact my family. Not after loosing my memories to oblivion. Not after loosing Jason. Not when I knew he could react violently, as some already had. And if his heritage and blessing from Mars went against my mortal pathetic self, I doubted I would last more than ten seconds. Thankfully, he did not look like he came to pick a fight. He came forward and stood beside me silently, watching as I drew back the bowstring. I felt his eyes bore into me, assessing my posture, my strength, my balance. It was off-putting. That, dear readers, is why my arrow went rogue. It wasn’t my fault. It thunked into the wooden leg that held up the target. I felt my cheeks redden. I glared at the stupid arrow, willing it to pick itself up and hover over to the bullseye. Unsurprisingly, this did not happen. It stubbornly stayed where it was, planted in the wood. 

I really hated having an audience for my failures, especially if the audience was a child who had once hoped and prayed for me, the Great Golden Archer, to be his father. I doubted Frank felt such a longing anymore. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He was smiling sympathetically at me, having witnessed my disgraceful excuse for a shot for the first time. I decided that Gaia coming back and swallowing me whole at that exact moment would not have been protested against.

“Here,” Frank said calmly, reaching towards me and adjusting my grip on the bowstring. “You’re gripping the string too far up your fingers. You don’t want to make a fist around it.” He peered down at my feet. “And you’re too tense. Relax your stance a little.” I obliged, already seeing my stupid mistakes. My cheeks seemed to heat up even more, and I found myself resisting the urge to bury my acne-ridden face in my hoodie. Frank seemed to notice, and backed off, instead ambling over to a small supply shed where he scooped up a bow and a fistful of arrows. I kept myself occupied from the daunting future that would have Frank humiliating me by nocking another arrow. This time, I tried to take on board what advice I’d been given.

I angled my left foot closer to the direction of the target, so I took on a more open stance, then checked my fingering was correct. Taking a deep breath, I used my back muscles to push my shoulder blades together as to take the strain off my arm and shoulder muscles - an unforgotten golden rule of archery. I drew back the bowstring until I reached my anchor point (the index finger touching the corner of my mouth), and fired. Twang! Not a bullseye, but well within the first yellow circle. I grinned in delight. Success was a rare feeling nowadays.

“Good job.” He congratulated quietly, grinning and turning to his own target. We both drew our bows.

After about ten more shots, and four bullseyes on my part (how many frank got is not relevant, moving on), Frank suggested we go back inside.

“It’s early,” he said, rubbing his eyes and letting out a yawn. He started walking down towards the fifth cohort’s barracks, so I followed. “We should get back. Jason’s funeral is later, and you’ve barely been to sleep.”

“How did you know?”

Frank scratched the back of his neck and smiled awkwardly.

“Well, you made a bit of a racket when you were leaving the barracks. What with the whole…falling and throwing books and stuff…”

Yup. The ground was more than welcome to swallow me now. I stuffed my hands in my pockets as I felt my acne-riddled face turn tomato coloured for the umpteenth time that morning, and glared at the grass.

“Apologies.” I muttered. “I panicked.”

“Yeah, you seemed upset so I told the others to leave you alone. I thought maybe you wanted some peace and quiet. But you were gone for ages, so I came to find you.”

I shot him a questioning look. ‘Why?’ He read my mind. 

“It’s my job as Praetor to make sure everyone’s safe,” he explained, his chest puffing out slightly at the little self-reminder of his recently increased status. “And, it sucks. To loose people, I mean.”

I looked up at the Roman. His eyes were shimmering with tears, but he looked me in the eye anyway. He wasn’t afraid to show emotion, which was a rare trait, especially in the legion, but one I had always admired. 

“I only knew him for a few hours. Why do I feel so awful?”

“Because Jason was a great demigod. The greatest. He made an impact on everyone he talked to.” -Frank gestured around the camp- “He really made an impact here. Especially with the loser fifth cohort.”

“He-he told me to fulfil his promise. To build temples for every god in the pantheon.”

“Yeah. He could be like that. Noble, even at the worst of times. But that’s not the reason you’ve been drilling holes into the archery equipment for an a few hours straight.”

I answered with all the intelligence of someone who hadn’t slept since 1am. 

“Huh?”

“I didn’t think to check here first,” he said. “I went up to your temple.”

I got flashbacks to my toddler-esque temper tantrum.

“Ooh. Yeah…”

“Yeah.” He responded in a tone that said ‘been there, done that, got the t-shirt’. “Families are messy.” 

“I miss them.”

“That’s normal. Bitterness is normal. You aren’t being overdramatic.” 

I smiled at the confirmation. 

“Thanks. It means a lot.”

We were back at the barracks. Frank smiled at me one last time and patted me on the back, before lumbering in. I followed. 

I slept soundly the rest of the night.

…

I walked, lead-legged, up Temple Hill. The whole camp was eerily quiet. Jason’s body had been given proper honours, and the legion had been given the day off from duties. I couldn’t stand the prying eyes of 200 kids for much longer, so, even while I had only gotten four hours of sleep and was weighed down with grief, I travelled to the only place in the camp that was truly ‘mine’. 

Tired and weary, I plopped down on the seat of the sleek, white grand piano. I ran my fingers across the smooth fallboard for a solid minute of distracted silence, before lifting it to reveal the ivory keys. They were chipped and yellowed and seemingly out of place compared to the stark white of the piano itself, were inevitably out of tune. I played a short scale, opened up the lid and tightened the loose turning pins I had hit, then continued with my scales. I repeated until I was positive that every key was in perfect harmony, which took all of ten minutes.

Satisfied with the tuning, I took a deep breath and splayed my fingers out on the keyboard, and played a tune that inspired grace and felt to me like a ballerina daintily dancing on water. After a second, the fingering flowed into my memory, allowing my hands to glide elegantly across the piano while I stared over the rim and through the gaps between the temple’s pillars, and into the distance. The sky was clear and perfect blue, and the warm breeze swept gently through my hair. I remembered sitting with my mother on Delos, our shoulders touching as together, we played two parts of the same harmony. Like two streams running down a mountain, weaving around each other and sometimes intersecting to make one stronger melody. My heartbeat calmed from the stress of what was now everyday life to me. Peril, danger and death.

A jarring dissonance of notes jolted me back to unwelcome reality. I rolled my eyes glared at the pudgy young demigod beside me.

“You know, there are ways to make your presence known without scaring flocks of birds away.”

“Yeah I know,” Meg replied shrugging. “But it’s not as fun as watching you jump ten feet in the air.”

“I wasn’t scared! I knew you were beside me!”

“Uh huh,” she grunted, turning her attention to the keys and banging a few more notes without mercy.

“I just tuned those, you monster.”

Meg smirked. Then she ordered me to shift over on the bench, and practically bounced down in the middle, leaving me with one leg hanging off the side.

“Teach me that one. The one you were playing.”

I was too taken aback to argue it’s difficulty, especially for a beginner. I thought we had long since given up on the piano lessons (Meg was not very good), and even if we hadn’t, this tune was graceful and elegant - not words commonly used to describe Meg McCaffrey. But I admit, I missed playing with someone. And so we began.

“Why don’t you watch me first, try to absorb as much of the tune as possible before I teach you the left hand.”

Meg tried to hide her smile.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Bit of a shorter chapter this time. Sorry for the long wait, I started writing out several completely different chapters and never finished them because they just weren’t good enough. Also, the point about ‘No romance’ in these chapters still stand. Frank and Apollo were written as a kid and an adult becoming good friends, NOT BOYFRIENDS. 

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E18 (May 15, 2018)

@eponymous-rose​ is out tonight, so here I am instead, tiny-footed in her enormous...shoes? This metaphor’s escaped me.

Preshow is the crew filling a whiteboard with chat-directed drawings. It includes Mollymauk covered in pyramids, Jester’s lollipop, and Caleb on fire. You know, as it happens. Liam smiles very convincingly next to it.

Anyway, tonight’s guests are Liam and Sam, who arrives late and brings his Emmy. This fool.

Tonight’s announcements: new website! Critrole.com. It’ll have updates, news, events, and Sam suggests a daily vlog from BWF. The hardcover version of VM Origins will have its launch date announced this Thursday morning on said website. Liam pulls out a copy of the thing and it looks great. Also, everyone except Liam will be participating in the Stream of Many Eyes livestream in LA June 1-3, which will include multiple live D&D games. More information and tickets here. 

Crit Role Stats! Nott currently has the most kills of the MN with 16. Her HDYWTDT on the hill giant puts her at 5, tied with Molly for the most.

Caleb has cast the most spells of the group with 146. The next closest is Jester with 100. Liam: “It’s that ritual casting, yo.” However, Jester’s cast a larger variety of spells (22 to Caleb’s 20). This doesn’t include the Wand of Smiles (Caleb: 1, Jester: 4).

Sam is still stuck in character creation in Pillars of Eternity. Liam calls BS since he asked how to walk, but Sam reminds him you walk before going into the CC. He’s spent an hour and a half making a Cipher. BWF made Pike, but picked the wrong voice. Liam suggests picking Grog’s voice in his remake. Liam played the opening nine times and eventually had to reinstall the whole thing to unlock the VM portraits. Sam has a traumatic realization that he has the same problem & will have to reinstall as well.

Caleb is strongly regretting entering the Victory Pit due to the exposure it’s gotten them. He didn’t think there would be any bigwigs this far out, but he was “shocked” to find he was mistaken.

Nott isn’t happy with the notoriety either, but she’s conflicted; “she enjoys the supportive glances of her comrades, her teammates, but every once in a while is reminded other people are watching too.” Both agree the afterparty went badly.

Re: the Trent namedrop, Liam: “I can’t believe he’s here, this far out... I didn’t take in a lot of what happened for the next twenty minutes.”

During a discussion of distractions during an episode, Sam talks about how he and Laura were drawing a shared picture last episode whose arms and legs became dicks over the course of the episode.

Nott was surprised to find she was of value to the team during the hill giant fight. She’s still getting used to her abilities, but being so small and taking down something that big was a confidence boost. “She’s super jittery and nervous about everything and she drinks to compensate. I think this is going well for her, helping the team.”

Frumpkin happened post-asylum, so there was no danger of Trent recognizing him. Liam: “He was tapped for school at 15, meets Ikathon at 16 & goes with Astrid & Aeowulf, goes home for the first event with his parents about a year later, burns the house at age 17, and then was in the asylum until age 28. He ran and was totally alone when he got out; the first step was a cat, the second step was a goblin, and the next step was a group.” Sam: “Your guy was institutionalized for over a decade? I should reconsider who I travel with...”

Nott doesn’t necessarily believe Yasha is a spy, but she doesn’t know why she keeps disappearing or what she’s doing. She doesn’t even know what Yasha is, just that she’s super powerful and scary.

GIF of the week: @trisail. It’s the Trent reveal moment with overlays of Caleb shorting out. Heh.

Lengthy discussion about the “leave the table” moment. Liam found the scene super satisfying as it played out and doesn’t regret it. However, it’s a game for his friends first and foremost, and the primary purpose must be to entertain his friends and make them laugh and gasp, and this way robbed them of their reactions. He doesn’t think there would have been an issue with them being at the table--they’re all respectful audience members, and they’ve all been present before at other reveals. Plus, his story is very complicated, so “what am I gonna do? Spill it out all over again for Fjord, for Jester? It just didn’t seem feasible.” Caleb’s story has been in Liam’s head for a long time, so he was glad to get it out. Liam got the most responses on Twitter ever after his first tweet that he’d told his friends to go back and watch.

None of the other cast members aside from Ashley & BWF have watched the Caleb scene yet. Ashley found it pretty crazy and “a lot.”

Liam reminisces about seeing Vex’s heartbreak at Percy’s death and Grog’s privy conversation with the sword, even though he wasn’t part of those scenes, and wishes he hadn’t excluded his friends from his reveal. “I didn’t get a cat o’nine tails out of Taliesin’s closet and flagellate myself, but...a small course correction.”

Caleb’s reveal clarified some things about how Nott views Caleb; neither Sam nor Nott are dumb, and they both knew that he was suffering from something terrible. This just confirmed that & fleshes out the details. Nott’s views of Caleb’s victimhood, and her wishes that he no longer have to suffer, have not changed. 

 Liam points out that the intimacy of the show has changed over time, allowing them to pursue deeper conversations between characters instead of just the wacky hijinks they started with. As an example, he points out the difference between the first Liam/Keyleth scene where people hid behind hats vs. later Percy/Vex scenes where everyone was respectful and quiet. Sam enjoys that they can now have fun-fun (getting out of tricky situations and fighting together) alongside adult-fun (deep conversations and new relationships). BWF points out they’ve spent more time with these characters already than a full 5-season primetime show.

Sam became addicted to playing D&D precisely because of the level of depth you could reach with these characters, which you can’t achieve anywhere else.

In the thirty minutes before the Caleb conversation, Liam was wildly conflicted about what he was going to do (reveal everything, reveal only parts, lie). At the same time, “it’s killing [Caleb] to keep it all bottled up,” and even though Caleb’s really smart, he’s not a mastermind, and it may have still been too soon. However, Liam was also ready to stir the pot--he’s getting antsy that so many backstories haven’t been revealed, even though they’re theoretically a sixth of the way through the show. He also points out that Caleb has achieved his goal of finally getting into the library, so there’s nothing keeping him from leaving at any time. “That’s Caleb talking, not Liam.”

Laura & Travis interrupt to Facetime in & pretend they meant to call BWF’s mom for Mother’s Day. It’s pretty darn funny, and they confirm they totally watch this show from home when they’re not on it. Nerds.

Sam also takes a moment to loudly, angrily remonstrate Laura & Travis for taking pho home to eat. “You do not take pho home to eat. You eat it at the restaurant. It does not travel.” Discussing Sam’s food snobbery, Liam reminisces about how proud he was of some homemade blueberry pancakes he made after his kids were born. He shared a picture of them with Sam, who then sent back a picture of pancakes Sam’s wife made that “looked like something out of a magazine, there were raspberries, and everyone was like OHHHH, OHHHH, and I was alone and tired in my kitchen.” Sam: “I’m the worst person.”

Sam had guessed that Caleb’s backstory had something to do with fire, but had thought maybe he’d accidentally hurt/killed someone. “It’s pretty bad to accidentally hurt someone with fire. It’s super bad to intentionally kill someone with fire who is related to you.”

Caleb has no idea what happened to the other two children. The last thing he remembers before hospitalization was the house. Liam still thinks of Caleb as young since he’s essentially lost eleven years.

Sam asked Liam why he wanted to play someone so dark after Vax instead of someone more lighthearted. Liam’s just attracted to these kinds of stories; “this is what I want to do with my spare time.” He’s fine with other people being jovial instead of him.

Fanart of the Week: This gorgeous thing by Wesley Griffith. Apparently, Travis said this is his favorite representation of Fjord so far.

Nott doesn’t think she can do powerful magic; she’s just excited to be able to do small things. Liam’s dying to know Nott’s backstory: “She’s like a little bag of knives who’s hyperintelligent and drunk.”

Sam pauses to plug a new organization, Nerds Vote, a nonpartisan encouragement to register to vote.

In re: Beau’s reaction to Caleb’s reveal, Liam discusses his other options. He thinks Fjord is very intelligent but an unknown who might be evil. Jester he thinks would be the most likely to be repulsed or run away. Yasha’s her own kind of stranger who always leaves. Molly’s a 24/7 party animal that’s wildly different from Caleb. He feels Beau was the best choice; Beau had something he wanted anyway (and had shared a secret with him) so he didn’t have second thoughts acceding to her request.

Even though Nott has forgiven him, Caleb’s not looking to be forgiven or have anyone pat him on the back. He doesn’t believe “it’s going to be okay or it’s not his fault.” He knows he’s absolutely to blame and there’s a massive degree of self-loathing, so Liam feels Beau was the absolute perfect person to tell since she was going to be dry, pragmatic, and real. “No fluff, all...elbow-corners.” He didn’t want someone to coddle him and she was the perfect person for that.

He recognizes that they’re both Empire kids and share that history. Caleb also has been paying attention to everyone, and he feels Beau is clearly not happy with the Empire regardless of what she says, which aligns with Caleb’s feelings as well. Liam thinks it was a great choice to break it to her first, & he feels it wouldn’t have been fair to exclude Nott if he were to finally spit it out.

Nott’s not concealing anything from anyone about her backstory; it’s just that no one’s asked. Caleb never asked about anyone’s backstory because he didn’t want return questions.

Sam likes Liam’s story choices and calls them brave.

The original idea for Caleb stretches back so far that Liam thought of the name Astrid even before Matt introduced Pike’s cousin, Astrid. When they started discussing character creation for the new campaign, Matt okayed repeating the name. The German accent came much later in character creation (i.e. after the development of backstory). To Liam, Caleb’s backstory reads more like KGB or Pet Murderer over Hitler Youth, since as far as he knows it was only the three children involved, not an army.

Of the choices available to the group, Sam most wants to go back to the Gentleman. Liam wonders if Pumat has skeletons in his closet. (How many closets does Pumat have, I wonder?)

Sam segues into his difficulty remembering the difference between the Soltryce Academy and the Cerberus Assembly since they both have “C-A” sounding names. Liam: “Look, folks, he can either be really funny, or he can know the details.” Sam: “And that’s... where Ikathon is? And then there are the Halls of Erudition? There are too many things!” I have never identified more with him than this moment right here.

I have a brief, violent heart attack when an accidental keypress navigates me away from this page and I think I’ve lost it all. False alarm, please reduce heart rate to under 100bpm.

After Dark: Emmy and a lovely mace for Pike Edition

Liam elucidates the difference between a mace and a morningstar. Sam just about knocks his Emmy off the shelf getting the aforementioned mace for demonstration.

Sam’s asked which 90s Disney Afternoon show his character would like best. Sam: Darkwing Duck, Talespin, Gummy Bears, Fraggle Rock. Liam: Duck Tales.

Does Nott regret saying she’s Caleb’s mother after knowing what he did to his last mom? Sam: “Oh, wow. I didn’t even think about that.” Liam: “How could you not? I’ve been thinking about it for weeks!” Sam: “Well, it’s not like he’s a Terminator-style hunter of only mothers...” Finally--no, it hasn’t crossed Nott’s mind, but Sam will inform her soon.

The ultimate food sin for Sam--transporting pho is pretty high on his list, but he decides on ten-dollar wine. (Two-buck chuck, you know what you’re getting, swillwater flavored like wine; ten-dollar wine is actual wine that is terrible.) He recommends splurging for the fourteen-dollar wine. Sam loves cheap Chinese but Panda Express doesn’t count as Chinese. “No good Chinese restaurant ever advertises, ever.” Salted vs. unsalted butter is also a big thing. This is all because of Sam’s wife, he says; Liam points out that a year after they first met, when Sam moved to LA, Liam went over to Sam & Sam’s wife’s terrible apartment where they made very fancy salmon wrapped in that clear waxy rice paper stuff I can’t remember the expensive name for.

Caleb had very little left offensively in the hill giant fight. All he had was Sleep and Shield and a weak cantrip, so all he could do was gamble and guess on the timing. When he first cast it, Sam told Laura it was a big mistake. 

A viewer question tries to goad Liam & Sam into a tickle fight. Liam threatens BWF with the mace instead. 

Sam agrees to grow a small beard for Liam’s birthday, a little “chin music.”

And that’s all for the night! Is it Thursday yet?

[masshirohebi-moved]

"Unrequited" (AinaOroJiraTsu!)

Sometimes, love could build the strongest of bonds, but then,it could also simply tear them a part.

They could write the cruelest of romances, the darkest offairytales. If Jiraiya were the knight, and Tsunade the princess, thenOrochimaru had no other place but to be the villain, an evil witch, a bitterliege that wrecked havoc over kingdoms that rejected them. But evil was not immuneto the gripping hands of love, and they have placed their hopes and dreams onthat so called knight. A hero, a sun in eternal darkness, darkness the serpentwished to escape, wished for him to pull them from. Surely everyone could seejust how beautiful he was? Everyone but the princess.

She turned her gaze away from his affections, no matter how muchthe knight craved her touch and approval. And no matter how many times he sworehe’d save her, she swore twice over that she didn’t need saving- how theserpent wished he would save them instead. They could do with it more than she.But they will keep golden eyes fastened to the man, while the man watches thewoman who sights only the grave of her once true love.  

And although she found that love, death took him away. So no onegets anyone, in the cruel laughing hands of fate. And amid their little talegoes an unspoken one. A farm girl watching from the shadows. She isn’t evenmentioned in the fairytales is she? For only those with powers of glory canmake written pages. She longs for them all, would take any of their hands. 

She would give the knight the touch and approval he is starvedoff. She would give the princess a love that wouldn’t die and leave her in suchdisarray. And how she swore she could fix and mend the villains broken heartand mind. But her sentiment is nothing but a futile wish on a still star. Itwas the shooting ones that were magic, she knows, but she’s had to settle withthe ones that always watch her at night. Because shooting stars never comepast, and perhaps she is tired of beautiful things that never seek her out asshe does them.

That’s the story like version, the romanticized tale. The fourare all far less poetic however, much as eyes who don’t know them may thinkotherwise.

“Your drink ma’am,” the bartender says, cutting the vipersthoughts and bringing them back to the present. They ignore the added ma’amwith mild disapproval. But upon seeing the drink they ordered was wrong on topof it, they quickly wave another server over. A new man, who hurriedlyapproaches and adds a quick, “how can I help you sir?”

They give up with their added names, and practically shove thedrink across the table, “I ordered awamori,” they respond with a slight rasp.It’s hurried away with a bit of annoyance, as if the mess up were somehow theirfault. The evening was kicking off to an annoying start.  This wassupposed to be a classy establishment, or so false advertising told them. Aland that was untainted by politics and feuds. It didn’t matter what headbandyou wore here, but merely how high ones income was. 

While the viper still admittedly had the social skills and classof that same orphan stumbling through filthy streets, they had managed toaccumulate wealth during their pursuits of war heroism. A strange word to useon them. A noise is heard behind the bar, for they are ever aware of theirsurroundings, even in places like these.

“Jiraiya-sama, your reservation was placed for two hours ago, wehave had to give your seat to someone else,” the apologetic doorman says. Towhich a nervous and unfazed half laugh greets him. Typical of the sage, hehasn’t taken offense. Unlike the viper who had half spilled their drink on theserver who hadn’t been the one to wrong them in the first place. His presencehowever, is alarming, and they swiftly try to tug on Aina’s sleeve to get her attention.She isn’t there beside them, and their hand snatches at air. “Surely there is another table available?” Jiraiya asks with the same nervoussmile on his face, “see I have a friend coming for her birthday, she’s reallynot the type you want to turn away at the door.”The serpent muses the date briefly, the 2nd of August, ah yes… whoelse could it be.“Jiraiya,” her voice is spoken in the usual stern tone, never having much of agentle touch both in regards to demeanor and physical affairs. Tsunade standsbelow the light of the entrance way, likely wondering what his sheepishexpression is about, likely wondering why they haven’t been seated yet. Theevening for the viper however, couldn’t be getting much worse. They certainlyaren’t happy their drink was wrong, that still no one has made an appearancewith the correct one, that their friend is no longer seated next to them, thatthe bastard who has snatched her place is puffing away on an air tainting pipe,that the very same man is trying to grab their attention with as much tact as adog begging for food, that the man they had actuallywanted and had been brooding over is now here, with the woman who had stolenhis affections the first time.

A slight huff as they treat the stranger beside them as if he were a ghost,hearing his greeting, but ignoring it just the same. They look around the roomto try and find their friend, who they have decided will need to evacuate with them.The last time they had met Jiraiya at a bar with Aina, things had gone… rather badly.They didn’t want a repeat, with Tsunade added to the mix no less. They spother, and how they should have known what she was doing. It would seem a smallbird had flown in through the window, hadn’t been able to find its way back outagain. The staff had been trying to rid the winged pest by sweeping at it witha broom. But there she was, nursing it in her hands, hands the little creatureseemed quite content in.For that was her fate, wasn’t it? Those that wanted to be saved would flock toher, the serpent surely had. But just like that bird, the moment she will takethe little creature outside, the moment she will have given it a chance oncemore, it will fly away. Her goodness never repaid. They can already imagine herstare of saddened farewell. They break their thoughts for the second time, what on earth has made them sosentimental this evening? They appear at her side, and guide her behind apillar to avoid the eyes of their former comrades. Tsunade, being diplomatic,had somehow found them a table where Jiraiya’s blunder left them without one.She didn’t seem upset however, likely amused and rather self-prided that shehad managed to fix matters again. And Jiraiya merely follows her as if she isthe light in the room otherwise cast in eternal darkness. They can see just howmuch adoration lingers in his gaze. It makes them sick.“We need to leave dear,” they state, abandoning the idea of their drink as theyglance across to the two seating themselves not too far away. It’s a hopelessdance those two Sannin swing to. He’s still chasing her after all these years,and she is still mourning.They let Aina take the little bird with, as they venture outside leading heralong without much explanation. They don’t want to stir needless emotions in her.After all, she had fallen for both members at that table. If the serpent feltso very morbid after seeing only one unrequited disaster, they dared not exposeher to the double blow of two. They don’t let her stop until they are past the outsideseating area, past the public pool filled with high rising palm trees, and thenstill some until they have arrived under the moon on the coastline. There is a faint wind, a warm breeze as they wander a few steps further, thesound of the waves running up to greet them somewhat calming. They turn to her,glance down at the bird she has so tenderly grasped in her hand.“You should let her go now,” they say, for they won’t linger on these shoresfor very long. And the moment her fingers unlace from that loving hold, wingshave flurried to life, have taken to the air. Golden eyes watch honey brownones, and they see a mixture of sadness and happiness. How many times she hadgiven them those eyes, they have lostcount. And perhaps, in this moment, it is the first time they truly feel thegravity of their rejection on her. The same crushing weight placed on theirheart when Jiraiya chose loneliness over them… is what she must feel when theychoose it over her. Guilt isn’t something they feel often, if at all. But theydo find themselves toying with the emotion briefly.Before a more dawning concept comes to mind, when Jiraiya had made them feelthis way, they had left. When Jiraiya had made her feel this way, then Tsunadesoon to follow… Aina had left too. Was it merely a matter of time before shedecided the serpent was just another love lost, before she played the role ofthe bird and departed so suddenly? They don’t love her in the way she wantsthem too, but how their selfish core is loathed to lose a beloved friendbecause her emotions took a turn for the worse. It would be kinder to let hermove on, that was what one did if they loved someone. But when had the viperever known how to love?Because sometimes, love could build the strongest of bonds,but then, it could also simply tear them a part. But they’re not thehumble knight who bows his head when told to leave. They are not the nobleprincess who carries herself away with dignity and poise. They are not the kindfarmer girl, who no matter how many mistakes she makes, will correct them asshe accepts fate is not as kind as she. They are the villain, they deny, they oppose.They get what they want whether it is fair or unjust. And if they hold lovelike they held their sword, if they forged it in to a weapon… why, the deem itpossible to control the deadly and cutting edge of passion.

They take her hand gently, drawing close to place a gentle kiss to her lips,false affections they will leave unexplained. All they need to do is ensnareher, is keep her under the belief that maybe, someday, she would be the onethey chose. Cruel, truly. But so much less cruel on them.And the serpent will let her obsession grow, will nurture it like she does herplants. And if their influence turns the kind girl in to someone more villainous,why, they’ll only feel more successful in their attempts of keeping her around.They could never join her in the light after all, had no knight to pull themfrom the shadows, so they shall secure her place in the darkness of their existenceinstead.  

[eljackinton]

Jack's End of Year Video Game Rundown

It's the start of a brand new year, that means it's time again for me to waffle a bit about the games I played and what I thought of them.

Assassin's Creed: Black Flag/Rogue

I've been out of the loop with Assassin's Creed for years, but since I was having computer problems last year I spent some time catching up on older XBOX 360 games.

Black Flag and Rogue are both two very intriguing games in very different ways, and its interesting to see the franchise stuck at a bit of a crossroads at that point. Black Flag is one of the best of the series, but it's also the one least concerned with Assassinations. Rogue presents a completely different perspective on the plot, calling into question the validity of the games as power fantasies.

I guess I'll catch up with the rest of the series another 5 years down the line or something and see where it goes from there.

Night in the Woods

An excellent game that hits upon some real struggles my generation faces in finding their place in the world. While it does have it's missteps, and some behind the scenes bullshit has tempered my enthusiasm over time, I still highly recommend it to anyone looking for depth in their video game storytelling.

Heat Signature

A random galaxy of random ships where anything can go wrong. I've sunk hours into the game but still haven't really finished it because it's more suited to short bursts. Still really good though.

Tyranny

When Obsidian released Pillars of Eternity, I found myself surprised that I didn't get that Baldur's Gate feeling despite it being a slavishly faithful spiritual successor. It's only after playing Tyranny that I realised that it was the feeling of 'new' that I was looking for.

While Pillar's was a great game, I kind of felt it was compromised by being too much, too fast. Tyranny, by contrast, is a tightly plotted tale that focuses purely on your character creating their own villainous legacy. It doesn't outstay it's welcome, but it really left me wanting more.

Halo: Anniversary/Halo 3/Halo: Reach/ODST/Halo 4

I've had a mixed relationship with Halo over the years, but I felt like a bit of a revisit/catch up. First up, while the original Halo still stands up as a classic, the updated graphics and soundtrack of the Anniversary rob it of it's charm.

Reach is probably the second best of the series, mainly because it's almost nothing like any of the other Halo games tone wise.

ODST is a weird outlier that has some interesting ideas but never really sticks the landing on any of them.

Halo 3 stands up better than I remembered.

Halo 4 does not. Way worse than I remember.

Warhammer: Vermintide 2

I've already gushed about the game enough. Everything that the first game was good at, better in every way.

Battletech

A teeth clenshingly tense turn based strategy game. Handling different damage types and stability really give it range and tactics that make you really use your noggin instead of poring over percentages. I loved it and I can't wait to check out the DLC.

Valley

A short, fun, Portal-esque puzzler with some great visuals. Feels a bit of a dry run for a better game down the line though. Would love to see the concept revisited.

Takoma

Take the well worn video game trope of exploring a post disaster environment, remove all combat and threat, focus everything else on a deep storytelling experience. That's Takoma. I loved the game, and I love it's take on a System Shock-type story but doing it purely from an investigative standpoint.

Another World

A classic that came highly recommended, and yet, I still haven't finished it. I just find it way too hard and my reaction times don't sit well with it. May get another review if I can force my way past the point I'm stuck at.

Life is Strange: Before the Storm/Life is Strange/The Adventures of Captain Spirit

I steered away from BTS because I wrote it off as an unnecessary prequel. Boy was I wrong. BTS stands on it's own as a story even better than the original LIS. I'd even go so far to suggest people play that game first.

So I enjoyed it so much I wanted to do a replay of LIS, still holds up despite some of it's problems.

Finally I checked out the free Captain Spirit. Really great and emotional narrative game that's just as long as it needs to be. Can't wait for a full playthrough of LIS2.

Fossil Hunters

A whimsical puzzle game that is surprisingly addictive. Played the whole thing from start to finish.

Hellblade: Seuna's Sacrafice

One of the best video game stories I've ever played, and the intense combat is no slouch either. Hellblade feels as though it wants to explore new places that video games can do really well but rarely touch.

Getting Over it With Bennet Foddy

Probably the best game ever made, or, at the very least, the one most focused on what it wants to be about. If you can face the frustration it's probably the greatest piece of art ever made exploring that emotion.

Wolfenstien: The Old Blood/The New Order/The New Colossus

I slept on the new era Wolf games and that was a mistake. While The Old Blood was a fun nostalgic romp that has some surprising depth, it's The New Order that is the main event. A story that really wants to hammer home the evils of fascism, all through a hyper-violent grindhouse revenge story. Near perfect from start to finish.

It's such a shame then that The New Colossus feels like a step down. Maybe it's that TNO was so good that a return feels like it's outstaying it's welcome, but it suffers mainly from wanting to tell a bigger, bolder, deeper story, and finding the confines of a traditional FPS a bad fit for it.

DOOM

RIP AND TEAR

Icewind Dale: Enhanced Edition

The Icewind Dale demo was the first RPG I ever played and my introduction to the world of Dungeons and Dragons. Getting to play and actually finish the game feels like it's laying some ghosts to rest. Now if only someone could find the source code to IWD2 and give it to Beamdog and I can do the same from there.

As for the game? It's okay, the expansion Heart of Winter is a big improvement and its what makes the experience worthwhile really.

And that's it! I'll be speaking my mind on Prey this time next year since I haven't finished Mooncrash yet, but all in all it was a pretty good year for interesting games. Cheers for joining me.

[gentlysociallypinned]

So a check-in on where I’m at in regards to Mollymauk and CR in general after a week away.  

I decided I was for whatever reason way too emotionally compromised to deal with this right now and needed to get my head elsewhere.  In an attempt to sort of salvage the parts of Molly that resonated most for me, I created an OC based on Molly and started writing an original Victorian romance novel (sequel to my other WIP original novel) with that character.  (And a character even more loosely based on Caleb.)  I didn’t get very far at all, though I got some character sketches down.  But I spent a few days intensely thinking about that, which was nice.  I’m not pursuing that further right now because I can’t really come up with a POINT for the book or an arc so it’s a little wishy washy right now.  It might one day become a thing.  

I’ve been intensely playing Pillars of Eternity: Deadfire and I’m in LOVE with Travis’s character Tekehu.  My player character is Gilmore and it really makes me want to write something for that pairing, cause it’s kind of amazing.  But I have to, yanno, play the game first.  

After a few days  I was able to tentatively read some Widomauk fic, all AUs and mostly smutty.  That was healing, a way to visit the characters while not feeling like ice picks were being jabbed into my chest.  But even as of a couple days ago, I still get panicked feelings when I see somethings about the death or burial on my Dash.  (I’ve blocked a LOT of CR tags, but some people don’t always tag and then I have regrets.)  I haven’t watched ep 27 yet.

Last night I totally forgot it was even Thursday until I started seeing stuff about Tal’s new character cross my dash.  Having seen the art, umm, wow, he’s amazing looking.  Nothing else has really made me want to return to watching until that.  Because it’s absolutely not that I can’t enjoy Taliesin playing another character, I absolutely can.  The part that is more painful to me is actually having to watch the continuing characters either grieve or move on without Molly.  

I don’t know if I can handle that yet.  I really, really don’t know if I can handle watching them leave him in a shallow grave.  

I really am still more than a little perplexed at the strength of my reaction.  But it’s very real and I think must be tied to my partner of 20 years nearly dying 6 weeks ago.  But I started writing this thinking “maybe it’s time to come back” and now I’m all “nope, still can’t hang.”  I do miss the fandom and see you guys off having fun without me.  

Is there a place to hang out with sad Widomauk shippers who are living in denial?

[xsunqueensx]

TWO FOR TRYING

Jooheon took me into a section of the the castle that was hidden to most guests, the servant’s quarter. The smell of fresh bread reached my nose and it instantly made me hungry.

A few older women were hard at work peeling potatoes while others were chopping some carrots and onions. The smell was delicious, it reminded me of home. “Hungry? We didn’t really get to eat.” I nodded and he led me into the next section of the kitchen. We turned the corner and the smell intensified; at this point I was practically drooling. “Well, well, well; are they not feeding you enough up there?” A heavy-set middle aged woman said, approaching the both of us. “Aunt May, it’s been awhile.” Joohenon headed straight to the woman and hugged her tightly. “My gracious, what on earth happened here?” Her expression went from sheer joy, to confusion, concern and or disappointment; I wasn’t sure, it was too soon to tell. “Now you know your mother raised you better than this” she said checking him over once more. “Com’on, You know I was raised by wolves.” Jooheon said bouncing his eyebrows. “Hush that now...even if it’s true.” The woman joked with bright eyes. The two shared a genuine laugh. “Aunt May, I want you to meet someone. This is our queen, well as of tomorrow... “Ms. May, wiped her hands across her apron and then curtseyed with a lop sided smile. “Highness, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The poor woman, I could only imagine what the two of us looked like soaked to the bone like this. “Please, please we don’t have to stand on pleasantries; it’s nice to meet you Ms. May. Please excuse my attire, our dear Jooheon has an appetite for bringing out the mischief in the best of us.” At this Ms. May let out a boisterous laugh. “No truer words have ever been spoken; he’s had me question myself a many a time!” The woman started to dig into a bin hidden behind some cabinets. She handed Jooheon and I a couple of towels. “Here, let me fix you something warm to eat.” Joohenon be a gentleman and make her comfortable, won’t you.” I smiled at how freely she talked to him, it reminded me of a mother and son. Jooheon patted the cushion of the bay window, he held my hand as I tried to hop up modestly. His cheeks turned red as I tried to keep my dress together but, I was failing miserably; the dress seemed to have a mind of it’s own. “Here, this should warm you a tad; Jooheon has your mother seen you two?” I grabbed the bowl, it had to be as old as me. “Sure did, you know how she has a sixth sense for spoiling any kind of fun.” I sampled the soup and it sent a chill through me. “Delicious!” Joohenon and Ms. May both lit up, “Thank you child, have as much as you wish.” I enjoyed their banter for a while, it reminded me of papa. “So child, how are you enjoin’ Kydith? Was the tide welcoming?” I nodded, “Quite.” “The grounds are marvelous, not to mention the food! I’ve met some interesting people thus far, the townsfolk were so welcoming. I honestly couldn’t ask for much more, well… maybe some dry clothes…” The three of us continued to converse. I learned that Baekhyun was indeed the castle fuck boy. “Charlene almost burnt down the entire damn kitchen, I found the two of them in the flour cupboard.” I choked on my beverage, “I’m telling you, that man is nothing but trouble.” Jooheon spoke next, “That man is a prodigy. He’s as dangerous with a sword as he is with his coc- um, bed habits…” Ms. May eyed him, “What have I told you about that filthy talk?!” A deep sigh left my fiancé, “I’m sorry May, old habits die hard.” I nudged him with my elbow. “Well, this kitchen isn’t going to run itself; Majesty, it’s such a treat to meet you in person. If you need anything, you know where to find me; especially if Jooheon is giving you grief.” Her eyes were warm and piercing into me, “Yes ma’am.”

“She was pleasant, how long have you known her?” I asked locking my fingers in his as we headed up a narrow passage into the castle. “Since birth, she’s been like a second mother to me.” There was something so gentle in the way he spoke of her, “I can tell she cares deeply for you.” The smile he gave me next was beaming, “I hope the two of you can become good friends.” Before I knew it, Jooheon led us to a paneled wall and pushed it open. We were right back inside the castle, “Well, that’s neat.” My fingers ran over the perfectly sealed edge of the hidden door. “Mhmm, we have several of these throughout the castle; I can’t count the amount of beatings I got as a child for playing in these with my cousin.” We waited as servants made their way past us carrying a pillar over their shoulder, no doubt it was for tomorrow’s events. Butterflies tickled me at the thought, I remembered the clock was just ticking away, every single second bringing us closer to our eternity. “Are you referring to Prince Kihyun?” Jooheon nodded, “Tell me about him?” We turned a corner and the castle started to look familiar, I believe we were headed back towards the main entrance way. “Well, at first glance he can come off a bit calloused but; once you get to know him, his kindness might blind you.” I thought briefly of my sister, “ I think marriage will do home well, he needs a womanly touch as he’s a little rough around the edges. Growing up without a mother’s nurturing touch will take it’s toll on anyone.” I sighed, “I can relate, I never got to meet my mother, I often wonder how I can miss someone I never even met but, Mothers are special in that way.” Jooheon squeezed my hand. “His mother, she was executed, right?” His face turned somber, “Yeah, my uncle is one cruel man. I’m still not sure if he’s truly moved past it yet. The relationship between him and his father is beyond strained. After she passed Kihyun built a wall and very few people have been able to climb it.” I frowned, “How sad.”

“Ah speak of the devil, I presume he’s been nothing short of a gentleman?” I sucked my teeth as Na’eva and Kihyun starred bugged eyed. “Never mind us, what the hell happened here?” The prince asked. I went to speak but Jooheon beat me to the punch, “We went for a swim, duh.” Na’eva and I both dropped our heads into the palm of our hands. Kihyun took my sister’s hand and gave it a light kiss, “Please excuse me; I have some business I must tend to, I’ve put it off for as long as I can.”The perplexed look on Na’eva’s face didn’t slip my notice. “Shall I see you for dinner?” Kihyun asked, still holding her hand. “Of course highness, I’ve enjoyed chatting with you; thank you for the tour.” I watched as she took her hand back a little too hastily. “Jooheon, I think I’ll retreat to my chamber for a rest; will you be alright with out me?” Jooheon grabbed his chest and played as though he was about to faint on the spot, “How will I ever man-age-oh no, I’m not going to make it.” I laughed at his non-sense once more, “I’m serious, are my services required else where?” His brow flicked up and I could feel my face getting warm. Those damn dimples. “Ahem.” We both came out of our silent conversation. Na’eva stood there looking at her shoes. “No, you’re free to do as you wish; let someone know if you need anything.” I curtseyed and he bowed before leaving us there. “You have some serious explaining to do missy. Come on, lets get you out of what ever this is…” Na’eva said holding up a completely limp feather.

“A sword fight, huh?” My sister asked. “Yeah it was actually a lot of fun, he’s pretty quick on his feet.” She laughed, “I can’t wait to tell father.” I gasped, “What, you wouldn’t?” I splashed water at her, the bath felt wonderfully warm and inviting. “So tell me about your afternoon, you and Kihyun looked rather, what’s the word? Oh, awkward.” Na’eva rolled her eyes and completely submerged into the water.

“WHAT!?? She choked you?” Jooheon stood there in disbelief, “She misinterpreted something I said and just reacted. I still can’t believe that was her first response.” Kihyun said honestly confused. “Nathan, can you bring some wine?” Jooheon asked, knowing good and well they we’re both going to need it.”

“He’s not romantic- at all! He is devilishly handsome though so, I guess that helps with his assholey tendencies? Hell, I don’t know. He wants me to come and visit Peth, much sooner rather than later. If the circumstances didn’t seem so dire,I wouldn’t even go.” I ran my fingers through my thick curls, “Dire?” Ameerah asked. “Yes, apparently Pethians are plagued with such a low morale; he invited me to come and let the citizens lay eyes on their future queen; to remind them that a new era is soon to come.” I loosely braided my hair, “Not to mention, they haven’t seen you since you were a child-I’m sure that would be refreshing.” Na’Eva was still lost in thought, “What aren’t you telling me?” For a brief moment, she weighed if should��but she didn’t. “Nothing, I’m just still a little shaken from my meeting with Kihyun. C’mon, let’s hurry- I have make sure you’re ready for supper. Lord know’s we’ll have to redeem you after today’s afternoon dip.” She did this all the time, brushing things right off- it infuriates me to no end. If I didn’t want to know I wouldn’t have asked in the first place. Truth be told, she looked like she needed to share more than I needed to ask. “Yeah, yeah- BUT NO FEATHERS!”

“Now, you see why I need your assistance?” Kihyun said with his arms crossed. “Man, for starters, let’s not piss off your fiancé to a point of physical violence.” Kihyun dropped his hands to his side, “ I told you that wasn’t my fault!” Jooheon spoke over him, “Secondly, you’re acting as though you’ve never romanced anyone befo..re…oh….yeah, well you’ve come to the right person. So, what did you two do today? Tour the gardens? Eat lunch? Explore the castle?” Jooheon said with vigor. “I found her in a hallway and took her back to my room, we spoke for a bit and then she choked me.” Jooheon downed his glass, “Fuck…Ki, this is going to be harder than I thought. Well, baby-steps I suppose. Tonight, you’re going to have dinner together- just the two of you. I’ve already planned a dinner with Ameerah. Granted, it’s a little non traditional to not eat with the house before the wedding so, we’ll break away for dessert. “Ki, I’m leaving you in charge of your table; decorate it as you see fit. Nothing bland! Remember she’s a princess….YOUR princess, try to woo her. You got this.” Jooheon said placing a hand on his cousins shoulder. Kihyun nodded, “Piece of cake.” Jooheon flashed his megawatt smile, “That’s the spirit, now chop chop!”

Jooheon was having a ball, he adored the idea of spoiling his fiancé. “Hmm, lets go with the pink.” He said to a servant in the kitchen, “She looked rather pretty in it this afternoon.” The servant agreed and began decorating the strawberries. “What sort of flowers do you suppose would match?” Jooheon asked, jutting his hip to the side.

“Orchids my lord,I hear she’s loved them as a child.” Jooheon looked at the servant stunned, “Wow, how’d you know that?” The servant’s cheeks turned a bright pink, “You’re mother highness, she’s quite thorough.” Jooheon rolled his eyes, “Indeed she is. Alright, Orchids it is; I’m in your hands.” He added with a smile.

This was an absolute disaster, Kihyun was realizing that he didn’t know much about his queen. He sat with a pen in hand making a list of things he assumed most any woman would enjoy. However, he only had two items; himself and her. An exasperated sigh left him, “Damnit. Damn it all to hell!” He knew he needed help but, from who? Not Jooheon, he was busy with his own endeavor to capture Queen Ameerah’s heart. He didn’t dare ask Ameerah, he was sure her mind was on much more important things at hand. Kihyun stood up from his desk and decided that a walk would do his mind good. As Kihyun made his way through the castle, he noticed many of the wedding decorations were starting to come together nicely. He couldn’t help but smile, his beloved, goofy cousin was finally getting married. A lopsided grin came over him, along with some heartwarming memories. “How many times do I have to tell you, I want more silk on these chairs.” Kihyun was quickly kicked out of his own thoughts as the queen mother walked past him with a gentleman. He looked vaguely familiar, Kihyun thought for a brief moment before it hit him. Jamison, that was his name. He hadn’t seen him since they we’re kids. “Pardon me Queen mother but, I must beg of some assistance from your current company.” Katherine eyes bulged a bit at his request, she looked at Jamison and nodded. “That’s perfectly fine, I must review the menu for this evening. Jamison, I appreciate you keeping this old queen company. If my nephew gives you any trouble, come find me. She said picking up her hefty skirt and quickly floating across the marble floor. Jamison smiled and bowed. “My king, how may I be of service?” Jamison tried to control his heartbeat as a wave of jealousy swelled in him. “How have you enjoyed your time in Thear?” Kihyun asked. “My lord, Thear has treated mother and I well. We’ve been very busy keeping our promise to you lord, teaching your queen the ways of our kingdom.”Jamison could feel the bile rising in his throat, he hated this small talk and calling Na’eva anyone’s except his. “You’re both to be commended, I’ve heard great things. I hear you’ve become quite the opponent with a sword?” Jamison laughed, “Well, that depends on who you ask. Remember, my duty is to teach and protect; I’m only doing what’s asked of me highness.” Kihyun grinned at his candor. “Very well then, I have another task for you.” Jamison raised a brow, “I’m always up for a challenge majesty.”

“Na’eva, which earrings? Crystals or the diamonds?” The two took turns holding the current options over her silk and pearl gown. The diamonds looked very brilliant as the lights bounced off of them, yet the crystals had a very soft glow that swallowed any color it was against. The girls squinted and replied at the same time, “Diamonds.” That happened quite often, finishing each other’s sentences or thoughts. “So back to your afternoon dip, how handsome was he wet?” Ameerah cut her eyes at her sister and laughed, “I can’t even put it into words- his body looked incredible underneath his shirt.” A blush hit her cheeks again, “His smile could talk me into just about anything….I’m terrified at how easily he tempts me.” Na’eva perked up at that last line, “Tempts you? What ever do you mean? You did save a little fun for tomorrow evening, did you not?” A giant smile creeped across her lips, “RUDE! You’ve lost all story privileges!” The two shared a laugh and continued to get dressed. Na’eva traced the brim of her eyes with dark coal, “Have you given much thought to tomorrow evening?” Ameerah blotted her lips with mint leaves and rouge. “Of course I have, I’m every bit anticipating and dreading parts of that ceremony.” Na’eva nodded, a royal wedding will take it’s toll on anyone; especially, the happy couple. Na’eva nodded, her sister would be taking the final step into womanhood. “Well, hopefully your reign will boil down to more than intimacy, childbirth and being obedient. Jooheon seems to have a great reputation amongst his people though, the air about him seems, different?” Ameerah sighed, “Tell me about it! He’s a great listener and has just a keen interest in everything it seems, I don’t know I could be partial? I certainly hope not, I hate how long it takes getting to know someone but, it seems like he’s excited to try to. I honestly can’t complain- that’s more than most queens get in a lifetime.” The two shared a comfortable silence and started on their hair. “So, do you think the sex will be good?” Ameerah twisted a curl into her palm. “Sister!” The two giggled. “I’m serious, if all else fails, may the gods’ grant you the perfect cock!” Na’eva said with a complete straight face. “Well, since we’re speaking on his member, I got to size him up first hand….I mean it wasn’t my intent but, things led to one another. You know, that’s besides the point, he’s a damn tease!” Na’eva sat there with a goofy grin, “Um, what the fuck sis?! TELL ME EVERYTHING.” The girls slipped into their respective gowns, “So you sat on his damn lap?” Ameerah turned sideways checking her reflection, “Yeah, that was the only way to win!” She said very matter of factly. “Poor mother Katherine, what kind of daughter is she inheriting?” Na’eva said flattening a crease in her dress. “She should be worried about her son, I believe he would have consumed me right then and there; servants be damned.” Na’eva smirked at that, “I still don’t see the problem?” She hated to admit it but, it sounded like a current problem of hers.

The evening came quickly. The boys chatted about the events to come, “All set, right?” jooheon asked. Kihyun adjusted his jacket; “Of course. I asked for a little help but, it was mostly me. My neck should survive our next encounter.” Jooheon shook his head, “Well, deep down I want to say that is the saddest thing that I’ve ever heard BUT, I’m mostly proud. Look at you, doing man stuff.” Kihyun scoffed, he knew he needed to mend any possible damage from earlier that day. He dared not speak that he was actually nervous; his ears always gave him away. “Let’s go, we don’t want to keep them waiting.” Kihyun took another deep breath and followed his cousin up the marble staircase.

Ameerah rubbed her newest cub’s round little belly, Nova was purring contentedly on her lap. She was such a precious little spirit, her paws were too damn soft. “Laila, has the castle been treating you well?” The big cat unfurled with a yawn onto its side, a lazy chirp left her. “Should I take that as an yes, my lovely lazy bones?” A knock sounded interrupting her, “Yes?” She spoke. “Princess, I’ve come to escort you to dinner.” Ameerah’s mouth went dry, was he really coming to fetch her for dinner? Her servants generally would do that. “Of course, you may enter.” Ameerah placed Nova onto the chaise’s cushion when, the door opened. “Wow, what a lovely sight you are.”

Jooheon said still holding onto the door knob. Ameerah brushed her gown to eliminate any possible creases. “My lord, you spoil me with your words; many thanks. Might I add, you look more handsome as the day passes.” She said stepping towards him. His cheeky grin was back, I t was the combination of her words and gown. She was rather bold in all aspects it would seem, a trait Jooheon was becoming more attracted to by the minute. “I think we compliment each other well princess, thank you.” Jooheon took in her silhouette, the silk outlined her in a mouth watering way. “See something you like, Sire?” She said with the same tone that became her on the boat. “Indeed, I’m curious about these; may I?” Ameerah breathed in his scent, it was different from earlier; it was soft but dark? When did he get this close, she thought? “Sure,” she answered before she realized what he was even talking about. His fingertips grazed over her hip, “I’ve never seen a piercing here before.” Ameerah silenced a shiver that was fighting to run rampant, “Ah, yes. I actually have two.” She grabbed his other hand and placed it on her hip, “See? You feel this one too?” Joohenon just nodded and enjoyed the quietness that sat between them, he unconsciously rubbed his thumbs into both of her dermal piercings. His cock was was turning him into a barbarian, all he could think of was slipping his hands underneath her dress’s slit. “Interesting, what made you choose these?” Ameerah smiled sheepishly, “My mother, she had the same piercings too.” Jooheon smiled, “Well someone is a softie.” The two laughed but didn’t move, the comfort that came from him holding her was addicting already. “Well, I believe if we don’t head down now, mother will send a search party after us.” Jooheon removed his hands but extended his elbow. Ameerah happily took it, she was excited for their first evening together.

“Highness, it’s lord Kihyun.” Na’eva sighed, what could he possibly want now? She almost didn’t respond but, she knew the servants would have something to gossip about if not. “A moment please!” Na’eva quickly adjusted her curls and straightened her back. “Enter.”

A servant opened the door with their head bowed. Kihyun stepped through looking even more delicious than before. I blinked trying to take in his appearance. His hair was swept back and his jawline looked as if it could cut. His dark eyes held mine as he walked in. “Good evening princess, I’ve come to walk you to dinner.” Na’eva wanted to roll her eyes, she could do that her damn self. Her resolve weakened as he spoke next with a smile, “I’m well aware that you don’t need me for that but, I’d like to redeem myself. I’m not the greatest with words but, hopefully my actions will speak much louder.” Kihyun looked almost shy, his ears were bright red. “I would like that very much.” Na’eva extended her hand and he took it.

The dinner table was grand, it really reminded the girls of back home. The table was filled with lots of familiar dishes, there was quite literally something for everyone. The giant navy velvet cushions were welcoming, along with the current guests seated. The chandeliers casted the room in comfortable glow. Ameerah and Jooheon entered the dining hall and the room fell silent. The attendees stood and bowed as the couple found their seats at the head of the table. Jooheon pulled the chair out for his queen. “Thank you,” Ameerah said adjusting her gown one final time before sitting. “You look stunning,” Katherine stated from across the table. Jooheon gave his mother a kiss on the cheek, “Doesn’t she mother?” Ameerah giggled, “Well, you’re certainly too kind. I hope all the wedding plans haven’t stressed you too much?” Ameerah spoke to Katherine. “Not in the slightest, I’ve been planning for this since many years ago. If anything, I believe I’m more excited than you two. It’s a mother’s pride and joy watching a child grow and marry.” Ameerha went to speak when the chair next to her moved. Kihyun was pulling the chair back for her sister to sit. “Nice of you to show up,” Jooheon said behind the brim of his glass. Once Kihyun was seated the conversation flowed effortlessly, the warmth amongst the household was very evident. Ameerah felt as though she could get used to this- not to mention the spread was delicious. “I’ll be sure to tell Ms. May how delicious this is,” Ameerah said preparing for another bite.

Dinner was promptly coming to a close when a servant nodded to both Jooheon and Kihyun. “Well mother, thank you for supper. The dining hall looks amazing, I can only imagine how everything will look tomorrow.” Jooheon guided Ameerah from her chair. “Pardon us, we’ll be having our dessert out here. The giant French doors were already open with sheer drapes fluttering in the evening’s wind. Jooheon escorted his fiancé onto the balcony and an gasp left her lips. “You did all of this? For me?” Na’eva and Kihyun smiled at the happy couple unconsciously. “I suppose that’s my queue, would you care for dessert outside as well? I’ve had a table prepared, that’s of course if you feel comfortable, princess.” Na’eva thought it over, the sourness of the day leaving her minute by minute. A part of her warred, would she be foolish and put herself in another volatile situation deliberately? Or, would she give this handsome man a second chance? Oddly enough his demeanor looked rather nervous….she hated to admit it but, his puppy eyes were working. “I would like that.” The smile Kihyun gave was radiant and it caused Na’eva to return it tenfold.

“This is gorgeous, you really outdid yourself Jooheon.” Ameerah took in all of the candlelight and delicious sweet options before her.

The sun had set not too long ago, casting the sky in a pretty shade. It was indeed wondrous how the sky was blanketing the two just right. “Who would have thought, you’re quite the romantic?” Jooheon smirked while rubbing his chin. “Let’s not tell the rest of the castle, I have a rep for being a bad boy.” The two shared a laugh. “Well, I’m certain the servants are well aware of this hidden weapon of yours.” He tilted his head, “Weapon?” Ameerah smirked, mhmmm; I see how the female servants ogle you.” Jooheon paused at her revaluation, “Is that jealously I hear, Queen?” His eyes starred into hers playfully, “Somehow, I think you would like that.” She said turning towards the scenery just beyond the balcony railing. “Pardon my bluntness but, I haven’t the slightest doubt that I’ve captured your eyes, you could’ve burnt a hole in my dress if you simply willed it so. Besides, I’ll soon hold your name and acquire your heart.” Ameerah walked to Jooheon and traced the ‘V’ of his blouse, “Just think, you have yet to even hold all of me. You can rest assured, wandering eyes are no threat to me.” Her hand cupped his chin gently. A lady may play well with others but, a woman knows how to keep her toys from becoming dull, Understood?” She said placing a soft kiss to his lips. “Yes.” Was all that he could muster, his focus was now on the growing tension within his pants. Jooheon kissed the back of her hand, “So the saying is true? That man is really that simple?” She joked. Jooheon dropped his head, all he wanted to do was take her to bed, “I fear you may be correct.” The two finally sat and began pouring wine, sweet hints of pear surrounded them. “It smells amazing, is this home gown?” Jooheon nodded as he poured his own glass. “Oh yeah, this is actually one of my creations. Believe it or not, wine making is rather relaxing; it’s one of my favorite pass-times.” Jooheon looked on excitedly as Ameerah took her first sip. “Wow, this is delicious….any other hidden talents I should know about.” Jooheon took a gingerly swig, “You’ll see first hand tomorrow evening.” Ameerah choked on the crisp liquid. “Highness!”

Nae’va followed behind Kihyun as he led them to their next destination. She was finally able to take in all of him, his shoulders sat rather tall complimented by a delectable span of neck. He was quite handsome in the day but, the way the moon was casting a shadow over his sharp side profile; Na’eva found herself starring even harder, he looked like perfection. “See something you like?” Kihyun said flashing a toothy grin. “What? N, No absolutely not. I was looking at the beading on your collar, it looks rather intricate.” She finished a little too quickly. “Ah, thank you. My mother had it made for my father when they were courting. Heh, kind of fitting for the evening, no?” He said glancing back; his eye were much different from earlier today- they seemed warm. “So, we’re courting now? Na’eva asked quickening her pace to match his. “If her highness finds it to her liking?” Na’eva smirked, “I believe it’s too soon to tell dear prince; besides, I still have no clue where you’re taking me. Atleast you’re allowing me to walk on my own…and the views are exquitie.” She said peeking over the never ending balcony. “What is that? The scent is lovely.” Na’eva asked closing her eyes and trying to place it. Kihyun stopped and looked at her, “Our table.” He said beaming from ear to ear. This was the first time he had ever done something like this….romantic. His palms were already starting to sweat.

Red and pink petals met Na’eva’s eyes as she looked down. “Roses…they’re lovely.” She said tiptoeing over the silky petals. They rounded the corner to a quaint stone gazeb; roses were cascading from the top and up it’s legs. The fact that this was tucked away in this little corner of the castle was beyond romantic. past Islet lace ran from one end of the table to the other, dessert was bountiful and the smell of fresh chocolate carried in the wind.

Shadows danced upon them both as candles surrounded the small table. “You did all of this for me?” Na’eva asked lifting a rose from the stem to her nose. Kihyun stepped closer, “Yes, it’s the least I could do. I know I’m not the greatest with words but, how I handled today was appalling. I’ll never treat you like that again, I’m sorry.” Na’eva reached for his hand, “Ki, I understand you’re under a lot of stress. I can’t imagine everything you’ve been going through; all alone at that. Listen, I’ve given your proposal some thought.. I’d be delighted to visit Peth with you.” Kihyun’s eyes widened and the first true genuine smile crossed his lips. “Under a few conditions, you’re to wine and dine me this evening.” Kihyun perked up at her request, “Oh? What else, my queen?” Na’eva plucked a a petal and rubbed it between her fingers. “You’re to fill me in on your plans with your father, if I’m to help; you’re to hear my suggestions.” Kihyun took a step closer to her, “Not even married and you’re already making demands?” Na’eva smirked, “You learn quick, maybe there’s hope for you yet, dear prince?”

[officialravendc]

Nature of Hell (for the Caffeine Challenge 24/02/17)

Caution to all readers: the following story contains graphic descriptions of extreme bodily harm and other assorted body horror. Please do not read if you are not comfortable with this. Thank you.

Nobody ever tells you how big empty is.

 Not empty like an empty box or an empty room. We’re talking about the Empty. Tentatively known by humans as ‘Hell’. The eternal nothingness that is life after death.

When you die, you might expect to encounter… nothing. And you’d be right. Half right. Because what you’re expecting is an ending, a cut-off point, a sensory completion followed by total brain death and the loss of your personality. You, a whole human being, just gone. And maybe you’ve come to terms with that. Maybe you’re happy with it. Maybe you’re not. Whatever the case, the truth will surprise you.

When you die, you might expect to encounter… an afterlife. And you’d be right. Half right. Because what you’re expecting is a beginning, a new start, a total epiphany followed by pure human completion and the loss of your personality. You, a whole human being, just become pure love. And maybe you’ve earned that. Maybe you’ve done good in your time. Maybe you haven’t. Whatever the case, the truth will surprise you.

When your consciousness transcends the veil, it is in fact making the passage into another dimension entirely. Separated from the material flesh, it should be left to drift – but the body is all that anchors it to a single spot. The plane on which it exists has been warped by some malevolent force into an eternal downwards spiral, an exponentially increasing funnel that descends into what might well be a hellish pit of eternal flame.

A while back, primordial evil decided that ‘eternal flame’ wasn’t the worst torture that could be inflicted on a thinking life-form. The worst torture had to be something else. Something simpler. Something so simple and so terrible that a child could have conceived it in a daydream.

And of course, because the god of chaos is a child, one who loves breaking humans with the ease it takes to snap a matchstick, the most abhorrent destruction came to mind quick as lightning. The Empty. The Void. The Cage. Incredibly simple, yet unfailingly horrific.

 Nobody ever tells you how big empty is. You can’t comprehend the vastness of the ocean or the limitless expanse of space. Your head can’t contain their sheer deathly magnitude. Only when you no longer have a physical head to speak of can you fit eternity into your mind. Because that’s the nature of the Empty. Whoever said ‘hell is other people’, the darkness decided, was wrong. Hell is nothing. Hell is yourself, for all eternity, all alone. Hell is rotting on the inside and never on the outside.

 There’s always confusion, when they wake. They’re not anywhere, not any more – not occupying any physical space or residing in any finite enclosure. They appear to have a body, for the most part; but that’s just a projection of the personality, a mental creation designed by the brain to protect it from the truth of the hundredth dimension. They have no eyes, no ears, no nose, no mouth, no fingers or hands or arms or heart. There’s just the space the head fills in around them.

The blank white void has no dimension or texture. Depth perception doesn’t exist in Hell. If there were anything physical to actually see, this might pose a problem. All it does instead is cause your vision to blur into an empty nothing where you’re left apparently floating in a sensory deprivation tank. That doesn’t mean there’s no light, mind. No, there is definitely a muted white light, but it doesn’t stem from any individual source. It is universal. After a time all the colours, even those of the perceived body, blend and fuse back into the whiteness.

(The devil also made the light occasionally flicker at a frequency right at the edge of human visual perception just to piss you off. This happens when you throw an endless force of hatred into a bottomless pit and expect it to stay put for eternity. It gets annoyed.)

It goes without saying that you can’t die in Hell. The Empty sustains your existence to the point of literally forever. There is no mental decay. And that leads on to the worst part.

 You cannot go insane.

 Essentially what this means is that there is no relief. You cannot dream. You cannot sleep. The darkness engineered it so that your mental state never changes. You always have a perfectly clear head.

There is nothing to hit in the Void. Nothing to swear at and nothing to hide under. There is nothing to talk to, nothing to hate, nothing to love. There is nothing to cry for. But that doesn’t matter, because it is made so that no matter what, you cannot cry. Some people try as hard as they can to stave off insanity. The strongest last a hundred years or more before they discover that that wasn’t an option in the first place.

Some people swear, scream, try their hardest to wear their throats ragged. They don’t realise that their throats don’t exist any more. They can’t even take their frustrations out on themselves. Some stay silent, in the belief that there’s nothing worth talking about. But their minds are forced awake, forced into overtime, ticking away like perfect dark clockwork, keeping them constantly in a loop of disgustingly cursed life.

 Some people make reference to a ‘fate worse than death’. There isn’t one. There never will be. After a hundred thousand years in the Cage, eternal torture seems like a luxury. Then at least you could feel something. Anything. Some of them fantasise so readily about driving spikes into their own flesh, or dropping themselves into vats of boiling water. It really takes something to make people wish for the relief of evisceration.

Each and every individual in the Empty has perfect recall. There is always and forever a constant knowledge of the time spent, the aeons passed. And so it is that after maybe a billion years or so, they start to realise how big the space is.

 Eternity is impossible. Eternal time and eternal space are the same thing. Einstein proved as much back in 1905. Despite the total lack of time or space in Hell, however, there is still something… big. Something so, so big. Something impossibly huge. The vastness of the ocean and the unlimited expanse of space are nothing compared to the power of eternity. It floods into your soul through your non-existent eyes and stills your vanished heart to nothing. The seconds and minutes and days and weeks and months and years and decades and centuries and millennia force themselves into your brain like existential toothpicks and crush the love out of you.

Each and every individual in the Empty has perfect recall. Perfect recall, that is, of lives left behind. Of people loved and lost. Of summer days and long starry nights and walks in the rain. Everyone remembers the rough street corners and the violent arguments and the days where everything became flat and grey.

See them, now? The people? Single them out. That one. The one with the sparkling eyes and the perfect smile and the sharp, witty mind. The one who you vowed to die for that night on the beach. The one who vowed to die for you. Aren’t they beautiful? Their very presence makes your heart strain in your chest.

 Now picture pulling their teeth out with pliers, one by one, and decorating your empty sky with a row of tiny tombstones. Picture sliding their ribs from their heaving chest and wearing them like bloodstained trophies. Picture forcing your arm down their shattered throat and tearing their heart out through their mouth and raising it to your own where all your slicing little beauties crunch down, scythe through the living meat and let the blood run from your mouth and doesn’t it taste good so good it’s beautiful sweet oh yes it is and then with a wicked smile that unzips your face all the way around and down the back of your segmenting neck you plunge your head into their screaming carcass with the howl of a million starved animals and –

 That’s what eternity does to you. There they all sit, now, plastering the walls of infinity with the slow drip of blood, sitting atop pillars of twisted corpses, wearing the thick skin from the faces of their loved ones like masks. That is the true horror of Hell. Hell is rotting on the inside and never on the outside. It makes everyone want to be the Devil.

Nobody ever tells you how big empty is.

Nobody ever tells you how cruel.

You might call on the cruel sea,

Sharp on the rocks by the dark beach,

But you’ve been played for a fool.

Let’s dance with the devil in the pale moonlight,

Let’s love us to death in the water.

You can’t run away

From the devil’s gaze,

For love makes you long for the slaughter.

Because of time zones and my work hours, I was unable to finish this during the time constraints of the Caffeine Challenge itself. But it’s here now. I doubt you’ll enjoy it as such, but it’s something. Horror concepts have always come easily to me.

For some reason.

- R.R.

[asuranecromancy-blog]

Into Chaos ( fanfiction file no. 1)

It was cold in the hall. The Priory could be a great place for knowledge and experience, but not for confort. Well, the weather was great for preservation. No brain would go rotten there, for sure.

This time, however, Cassidie was there not to read books or make any experiment. She had gotten a letter from the steward, and it sounded urgent. She hated that. Urgent letters made her feel unconfortable, like she had done something wrong and was about to hear about it. There was no motive: her missions where done and all reports were redacted and filed in the archives.

"Magister, i require your presence in my office for a urgent matter."

So, the asura was now looking at the office doors, nervous. There were voices on the inside, and her perception of life forces told her there were others with Steward Gixx and Ogden. More than that she could not infer.

A deep breath. And a push to the doors.

"Ah, Magister Cassidie, glad you came. I trust you already know Councillor Suzzia."

"Magister."

How could she not know her? Her nice face, her fair brown hair well done, the soft skin. She could be the nicest asura on whole Tyria, and to most she certainly was. Hardworking, sympathetic to most, well educated, and tolerant. Cassidie hated her, an hate that grew deeply within. It all started when they where no more than meere young progeny...

.

The young progeny Cassidie was then a student in Thaumanova. The Thauma Magitech Labs United had a small lab dedicated to forming the progeny of their workers. Some would then stay there and just naturally enter one of their labs. In her case, her mother worked there in the Golem assembly lines, and she hated it there.

Suzzia was almost her age, and a smart young progeny. Her father was famous for inventing some relay crystal, so there she was, an example of a progeny. They became friends when Professor Tarkk assigned them a little project. After that, they where together doing projects or exploring the city and annoying the vendors.

That was, until...

When again their professor gave credit only to Suzzia, Cassidie decided she was too tired of being less considered just because her parents were not famous. Suzzia made a funny face, of someone who was trying to look cute and crying at the same time. That was it. Not only he put her in probation, as latter Suzzia ignored and started moking her with new friends.

With that she just got out of it. Ran away from that lab, and all of them. She would find a new teacher, a new lot of troubles, but hoped had seen the last of Suzzia.

Not.

.

She was in the College of Synergetics when she saw Suzzia again. It was a strange fate that, of all three asuran colleges, they had to choose the same. Except this time Cassidie was no longer a timid progeny, but a bitter necromancer apprentice with a bit of Inquest medling on her background. So, instead of being happy when the two where assigned a project, she dreaded it. But had to work hard for it. It was college, after all, expensive and extenuous, but rewarding.

However, during the presentation her name was cut out, like she wasn't even in the project. It was not on the papers either. It had been the last drop, and the two got out of it with a fight. Cassidie got a black eye and a suspension of two weeks.

Only much latter she found a place in Varkk's krewe, and by that time Suzzia was already graduated and gaining fame among asuras.

.

"Steward, Councillor... I came as soon as i could. You spoke of an urgent matter."

"Indeed. Councillor Suzzia brought us an urgent matter; they have found the cavern from where the Inquest extrated crystals used in Thaumanova. The place is still controlled by them, but an investigation would be in order, to at least understand what happened in Thaumanova. I have assigned you this mission. I trust you can do your best to enlighten us in this situation."

To work with Suzzia again... she would rather go directly to Arah completely naked.

"The cavern is located in Iron Marches, west of the Old Piken ruins. Arcane Eye agents are already securing the place. We believe some Inquest are inside. They either were displaced there when it blew up, or are preparing something. Not good. The sooner we get there, the sooner we'll get to the bottom of this."

"The Arcane Council thanks your suport, Steward Gixx."

.

The place was littered with Arcane Eye agents. Most of them didn't say anything when Cassidie entered the perimeter, but a few still remembered when she got Professor Gorr out. They hadn't exactly ended in good terms, even if Councillor Flax dropped all charges on her and Batanga.

"Wonder if she's here to bail her necromancer teacher out. What is Councillor Suzzia thinking?"

"I don't care what Councillor Flax said. She tries that here, i'll show her some Arcane Eye force."

She hadn't considered that. After the Thaumanova disaster, she avoided any thought on her former teacher. He was an active researcher in the Inquest facilities when the reactor blew up, and one of the many that simply went missing. No one else cared; he was old and mad, completely deranged even for Inquest standards.

And that was the motive Suzzia came to request her. She planned to use the necromancer against her old master. Well, Inquest or not a master is a master, and she did not plan to do what the councillor told her. To hell with Suzzia and her pretty plans and popularity.

If only she didn't feel like she had to impress Gixx...

Once inside the chaos was evident. Broken Inquest golems and bodies amidst the bursting crystals. The air was filled with static and strange energies. Yet, she felt it as familiar. She had grown up with that strangeness around, studying chaos within and around herself. So many questions. Would there be answers in that cave? Had her old masters the answers she seeked?

There was one researcher alive. When interrogated, he begged to be spared; he had a brokken leg, and blood was dripping from his nose. He had no idea if there were others alive, or where were they.

She had to find him before Suzzia or the Arcane Eye.

Using life force perception, there was a faint sign of life there, either to far away or to weak. They went looking on the other side of the cavern. But the chaos crystals were acting up, shrinking some agents, pulling creatures from everywhere, or even altering the course of time. For once she thought she had seen a steam creature (those foul creatures she had... well, it was better not to think about it. The Infinity Ball was stripped of power and stored away safely). And time was flowing backwards sometimes, or stopping and then jumping foward.

Up some pillars there was a hidden chamber. There, she saw him.

He was not physically hurt, but it was evident he would not live much longer. Feeble and breathing hard, he was muttering to himself. In the last years he had gone bald, but never lost that spark of mischief. As soon as she entered the chamber, he knew she was there, and he knew it was her, and nobody else.

"Ah, if it isn't my young gloomy little apprentice. Tell me, Cassidie, did you come to see your old master die? Have you finally gotten tired of playing good asura in college and embrace who you truly are?"

"You know that's not it. I was worried... I... I know i've been away. I couldn't stay with the Inquest. Look at what happened."

He laughed, and then started coughing hard. All of that had taken a toll on him.

"I know you better than that. You didn't look behind, and you did right. Be free, from the Inquest, from them... you don't need them. But tell me, you come for answers, don't you? In all your travels and adventures, and believe me i know of them, you haven't found anything quite like you."

"You know...?

"I can't tell you. Sorry, my young demon. It is not from me you'll hear it."

That was him. He had a dirty secret, and he would take it to the grave. Good old master, always a selfish prick.

"Suzzia dragged me here. To study the crystals. To do whatever she wants... with you. I hate her."

"I wont live long. I can already feel the final minutes ticking away from me. I'm finally going to study the Eternal Alchemy up close, touch it. What's happening here is a twinning effect. We messed up with this crystals, we were idiots to use dragon magic with chaotic material. Now, the chaos reacts to himself after the Thauma blow up. Take my things: my insignia, my research. Don't let those councillor idiots take it. Do whatever you want with them. But know this: you have something, and it's time will come too. It won't be easy, or fair. But you're not like us."

Outside she could hear the councillor and agents looking for her, as if she was an escaped criminal.

"Don't you dare to cry, you idiot. And do me a favor, and punch however that Suzzia is in her face."

"I told you councillor she would run away with him. She's no better than them."

"Quiet. Until there's proof of it, they can still be here. And we need him to..."

"He's dead." Cassidie said, suddenly relaxed, like she was just taking some tea and waiting for friends to join her. "Anything more, councillor?"

They looked like idiots. Pawns in the hand of a beauty saint-like manipulator.

"Oh dear, i'm sorry you have to go through this. It's okay Savant, you're at ease here. We're just going to get some samples, and you are free to return to the Priory. Agents, please, take what it's needed."

But not even when they were alone she dropped that mask. For that the necromancer found her absolutely hedious.

"I know you hate me, Savant, Magister, what title you wear. But that doesn't change the fact that I won prizes before you, and am by far best located among our asuran peers. You have to respond to me."

"Is it, Councillor Suzzia? I don't know what you did to ever get to the Council, or who you did. But i don't have to give you nothing. Unlike you, i'm free. And i'm done here."

.

One week later her report was done, and she was about to submit it to be archived. His Inquest insignia was now resting inside one of her backpack pockets, the research papers where actually a heavy binded book in her collection. She hadn't dared to read them yet. Perhaps one day latter, when all of that was but a bad distant memory.

After all that, Suzzia had come again to speak with the steward. It seemed like she had a great delight in speaking with Gixx, even more when Cassidie was there doing her obligatory Magister chores. It made her blood boil, but her mouth was sealed shut. After all, as long as she remained quiet, she had something Suzzia didn't, and that was a victory. Even if she didn't understand what the councillor really wanted from him.

She had also a headache. Not something big and hurtful, but something that remained there for days, tiring her. Could be from the chaos within the cavern. On her way to the enfermary to grab some pills, she found Historian Garrod there, getting stitches.

"What happened? You look terrible, Historian."

"We were attacked by some massive shadow creature in the swamp. What about you? I believe you haven't come to the enfermary just for a visit, Magister."

"Nothing heroic, just a strange persistent headache that's bothering me for seven days now."

"That's funny. That is exactly when that shadow behemoth attacked the swamp..."

.