#I love these two please come join me on this piece of driftwood

[setaripendragon]

Yin and Yang - Part 1

I’ve been feeling pretty crappy today, and for some reason writing about these two depressing assholes makes me feel better, so have some super self-indulgent mpreg!Itachi/Hidan. I have no idea where I’m going with this, I just have this image of Hidan listening in rapture to a baby’s midnight screaming fit, so I’m hoping to wend my way to that point, eventually.

General warnings for this whole story include: Hidan’s religious sadomasochism and Itachi’s suicidal martyr complex and depression. Also, obviously, mpreg. Please be careful and take care of yourself <3

Despite everything that had happened in his life, Itachi still disliked violence. It wasn’t the visceral disgust of his youth, but he still acknowledged that he found it unpleasant. Still, as an S-rank criminal for hire, he was forced to see a good deal of it. Thankfully, with a partner like Kisame, who not only was well suited to violence, but seemed to take a simple sort of pleasure from a fight, Itachi mostly got to stand to the side and look intimidating, instead of having to engage in the violence himself.

Most of the time.

This was not one of those times. There were really too many of them to expect Kisame to handle them all by himself, and at least three of them were lightning users. Sighing softly to himself, Itachi stepped forward, putting himself at Kisame’s side. The larger man smiled nastily. Their enemies attacked.

Itachi immediately surged forwards, sharingan spinning, caught a handful of them in a genjutsu before they’d even realised what happened, took another two in the throat with kunai, and spun under the first attack to actually reach him. Kunai in each hand, he flicked his wrists, sending the blades spinning out, and got another foolish ninja with a simple yet debilitating genjutsu.

Behind him, he heard Kisame laughing, but he paid it no heed. One of the better fighters engaged him with a flurry of spinning blows, and even though Itachi could predict every one and move out of the way with ease, he could also see that she was driving him into a knot of her allies. He let her, and then, at the last minute, when victory lit her eyes and her allies dove for him, he replaced himself with a leaf off the tree above them.

Looking down, he saw them drive their weapons and jutsu into each other, and devolve into a screaming, disoriented pile. He had been planning to throw another genjutsu at them, to further their mindless panic, but he got distracted. There was a foreign source of chakra inside him. It couldn’t be a genjutsu, or his eyes would have caught it long before now, it couldn’t be a compulsion jutsu, because he regularly fluctuated his chakra to throw them off. It didn’t seem to be affecting him at all, except, he realised as he studied it more closely, that there was a miniscule flow of his own chakra into it.

Exactly like he’d seen on his mother, less than a year before the Kyuubi attacked.

At first, incomprehension was what held Itachi immobile. Then, slowly, tendrils of panic began to creep past the fog of his usual indifference. Because the sharingan never lied. The sharingan saw through lies, dispelled genjutsu, picked out every tiny deception. The sharingan recorded the truth, and with enough practice could even be used to predict the immediate future with startling accuracy.

Itachi could not doubt the evidence of his own eyes, and his eyes were telling him that he was – inexplicably – pregnant. The impossibility of that was its own problem, but Itachi remembered the day Sasuke was born, he remembered standing at his mother’s bedside, looking at this tiny, screaming thing, and being overwhelmed by how indescribably precious this new life was.

As a child, a boy of only six, he’d been… a little jealous, that he couldn’t do that, too.

As a teenager, still just a boy of thirteen, he’d slaughtered his own mother in cold blood. He’d given up any right he’d ever had to call himself a good person, the sort of person who deserved to have a loving mother and adoring little brother. He could at least still call himself a good shinobi, but that was as far from a good person as one could get, in his opinion. He knew intimately the feel of his mother’s blood, the sound of his brother’s screams.

As a man, just barely twenty-one, he was a rotted, festered husk of a person, sick in body and soul, and far too damaged for this to possibly be… real. He had murdered his mother, destroyed his brother – oh, with a purpose, with a reason, but all violence had a reason, and all violence was still wrong – and he didn’t know if he remembered, if he’d ever known, how to be anything else with family.

Kill or be killed.

Somewhere past the ringing in his ears, he heard someone shout his name. Somewhere past the tingling in his extremities, he could feel the roughness of tree bark. Somewhere far, far beyond the memories of blood and terror in the eyes of the person he loved most in the world, he saw leaves scatter as a man with an unreasonably huge mace in his hands flung himself across the branches at Itachi.

At Itachi, and the new life that was resting inside him.

A new life that was so tiny, still so much smaller than Sasuke had been, that first time Itachi had ever laid eyes on him. Tiny and helpless and dependant; entirely, utterly, completely dependant on Itachi for the oxygen in their lungs and the blood in their veins and the beat of their heart. If Itachi did nothing, if Itachi failed, the baby would too.

In that moment, Itachi felt for the second time in his life an overwhelmingly fierce devotion to another person. Sasuke was his little brother, and this baby was his child. He had murdered his own mother to keep Sasuke safe in Konoha and out of a madman’s hands. He would do it a thousand times over if it meant protecting his child.

Black pinwheels spun to life in crimson irises. The world became orderly, predictable clockwork, and Itachi moved. The man in front of him wasn’t looking him in the eyes, unfortunately, so Itachi dispersed into crows, and reformed behind him, kicking him to the ground and following him down, letting gravity slam him into the man’s abdomen, crouching with the movement to drive his knee into his sternum and to slam his hand down onto his throat. The man gasped, eyes flying wide, and Itachi swallowed him in black flames.

Then Itachi looked up, assessed the battlefield, and marked out every potential threat. Too many. Far too many. He would change that.

With only a little blood and a few handsigns, Itachi summoned every crow that would answer to his call, and set them on his enemies. Crows, most people didn’t realise, were vicious birds, given the opportunity. They were carrion birds, scavengers, and that meant that they were not only capable of shredding corpses to get at the meat, but also sneaky, suicidally brave little shits, fully capable of stealing a meal out from under the beak of a fully grown eagle, given sufficient motivation.

These birds were bound to Itachi, they were his allies, and his protective fury was theirs, and more than enough to inspire them to murder. Itachi followed in their wake with black fire and madness in his bloodied crimson eyes.

A whirlwind of movement and screaming and death later, Itachi halted, and watched the last few amaterasu fires dwindle into nothingness. He stood very, very still, and breathed with lungs that were already more rot than lung. He let the sharingan fade away and looked with eyes that were as good as useless, with how little detail he could make out past the blurs of colour and light. He calmed the maelstrom that had swept through a mind so thoroughly overtaken by madness that he could easily slaughter an entire battlefield without a second thought.

Grass shifted under a shinobi sandal, and Itachi just barely turned his head to indicate to Kisame that he was aware the other man was there. Kisame whistled, low and impressed, and then, after a long, awkward pause, asked “You alright?”

Itachi laughed, startled into a moment of genuine, absurdist humour. He had never in his life been alright, long before this moment, long before he’d killed his family, long before he’d even so much as laid eyes on Sasuke. He was not the sort of person who could ever touch ‘alright’, wasn’t capable, wasn’t permitted. He was allowed just enough sanity to protect Sasuke, just enough lucidity to know to prepare him for when Itachi could not, just enough self-awareness to know that he deserved nothing more than death.

But he couldn’t die. Not yet. Not today or tomorrow. Not for years. Not until this new responsibility could stand on their own two feet and face down Kage if they needed to. He had been so close, so damned close, to finally meeting his end, to gifting Sasuke his own mangekyou, that ultimate power, and now… Now, despite his lungs and his eyes and his poisoned soul, he suddenly had to live.

His laughter choked off, curdled in his throat as tears spilled over his cheeks. He pressed a hand over his eyes as if that might help, but they continued to stream, regardless. His breath shook, his shoulders hitched, his throat constricted.

“Er…” Kisame began, and laid a tentative, awkward hand on Itachi’s shoulder. “I guess that’s a no.”

“I’m pregnant.” Itachi announced, although his voice came out far quieter than he meant it to, far more strained under the weight of his hysteria than he’d wanted it to. “I’m pregnant.” He repeated, in bewildered, horrified disbelief.

“I… What? Are you… sure? I mean, I was pretty sure you’re male, and-”

Itachi snorted, but delicately. He’d learnt that trick from his mother. Mikoto had been able to make just about anything look elegant, and Itachi had always been pleased by the fact that he took more after her than his father. In more ways than he’d expected, apparently. “Yes on both counts.”

There was a long silence, until Itachi felt, through the hand on his shoulder, Kisame shrug. “I suppose having a giant mouth on your chest is still weirder.” He capitulated easily. “Or having a giant flytrap around your head. Or turning yourself into a puppet.”

“Or being half-shark?” Itachi suggested, with a hint of wry humour.

“Well, that seems pretty normal to me.” Kisame retorted with a grin that showed off his jagged, pointed teeth. Deliberately.

Itachi did appreciate Kisame’s sense of humour. Truly. “This… does not seem very normal to me.” Itachi admitted, letting a hand drop to his stomach. There was… Now that he was looking for it, now that he was aware, he could feel the barest beginnings of a bump there, beneath his navel. And he had been feeling unwell for the last month or so, but he’d put that down to his deteriorating health.

“No idea this could happen, then?” Kisame checked.

“None. I-” Itachi started, then stalled. He did not talk about his clan. Only one person was privy to his thoughts and feelings about his clan, and it wasn’t Kisame. He couldn’t make the words leave his mouth, couldn’t allow the truth of it out before… before what? Before Sasuke killed him? He could hardly allow Sasuke to kill him now.

“Any records you could check?” Kisame asked, skirting around the issue with surprising grace.

Itachi hardly knew what being friends meant, but he rather thought he liked having one in Kisame. “Perhaps…” Itachi hedged. “And I think a visit to a skilled medic-nin would be in order.”

“Probably.” Kisame agreed. He looked around the small clearing. It was nothing but a green, brown, and red blur to Itachi, but he had seen the aftermath of the battle with the sharingan, and the memory was vivid and clear in his mind. “Are the killing-sprees going to be a regular thing?” He wondered, completely without judgement.

Itachi wanted to say it wouldn’t happen again, but, well… He still felt very uncertain and off-balance about this whole pregnancy thing, and if he thought too hard about it, he could feel the hysteria rising within him again. “Only if someone threatens me.” He hedged.

Kisame winced, then shrugged. “Okay. Let’s head back to the base.”

Itachi’s breath hitched, but he ignored it and the side-eye he got from Kisame, and nodded. When his partner didn’t move, Itachi turned and started walking. Kisame fell into step with him. They walked in silence for a while, and Itachi did his best not to lose his mind over the fact that somehow he’d wound up pregnant.

He wished he understood better the logistics of the thing. He had been having a fair amount of sex lately, penetrative sex, both giving and receiving. There had been plenty of exchanged bodily fluids, and even some chakra usage. But Itachi didn’t have the first clue how, when, or where the child had begun to grow. There had to be some sort of jutsu involved, surely, because Itachi was fairly certain he did not have the right organs, usually, to bear a child.

Except, he’d been thirteen the last time he’d seen a medic-nin for anything. He had no idea how his body might have changed during puberty. There were some pretty strange mutations in certain ninja clans, physical alterations that frightened or disgusted most civilians. Itachi would have thought that as the clan heir, he would have been made aware of all the pertinent details of their clan’s traits. But, of course, he’d been thirteen when he’d killed everyone who might have been able to explain, and most people, even ninja, did seem to think that was a bit young to be talking about sex. Never mind the fact that Itachi had been killing people since he was six.

Why sex was supposed to be that much more traumatising than murder, Itachi did not know.

Kisame’s sudden question knocked Itachi out of his increasingly hysterical thoughts; “Is Hidan going to try and kill me for knowing before he did?” He wondered, without seeming very bothered by the prospect.

“Why would he?” Itachi wondered.

“He is the father, isn’t he?” Kisame checked, although he didn’t sound very uncertain at all.

Which was fair. Hidan was not a subtle man. Everyone in Akatsuki had known they were sleeping together less than a week after they started. That was a full six months ago, and in that time, they had slid seamlessly from what Kakuzu had crassly termed fuck-buddies to what Deidara had called ‘disgustingly and creepily married’ with a visible shudder.

“Yes.” Itachi confirmed, even though he was fairly sure he didn’t need to.

Kisame nodded. “So, do I need to watch my back?”

“I cannot see why you would need to take any extra care.” Itachi replied. Kisame watched him for a moment, then shrugged and seemed to accept that for what it was. The rest of their journey passed in an easy, companionable silence.

[cosmiccandydreamer]

Insecure chapter 3

Otis driftwood x Reader

( I do not own these gifs)

Masterlist is here. Please see warnings ⚠️

The next day the eve before Halloween, you were at work; you worked about one or two days a week at Captain's Spalding's gas station and chicken roadside attraction. Spalding had become a father figure to you in the years you've known the family. He knew your father too briefly when home; this is where your dad would always fill up his truck before leaving again. You'd still hang out in the shop with your dad while he chatted or killed time. He knew you were a good kid; that’s why when he found out you were dating his adopted son Otis he was overjoyed. You would help him outrunning the register while he would make fried chicken in the back. It was a fun environment, you talking with Spaulding for hours and laughing until your sides hurt. So that night, you're sweeping the gas station/ art exhibit while admiring Otis's art around the place. It filled you with pride that your guy was so talented and creative. 

The shop bell rang, and in walked two young men who were not from around here. You listened in on their; conversation, and apparently, these groups of young people were on the road in hopes of writing a book on offbeat roadside attractions. You watched and held in a laugh from behind one of the shelves as Spaulding messed with one of the young men you learned was named Bill; he always liked to press people's buttons, and this time was no separate thing." oh, I'm just messing with ya son! Look take a load off. I’ll have y/n get ya some refreshments or something. At the same time, I set up the ride y/n Darlin c'mere would ya" you set down the broom. You walked over to the men, your boots clacking on the wooden floor. " Evening gents, I'm y/n does anyone want any water, sprite … burdon?" 

You chucked a bit, which seemed to loosen the guys up; you learned the other was named jerry. " Oh, we're good; we’re just gonna go get our friends who are out in the car. I'll be back" as Jerry leaves, you turn your attention to Bill, you lean slightly against the counter "so roadside attractions, huh? Seems interesting" "Yeah! It's been pretty cool so far being to a lot of interesting places," you noticed Bill was giving off some you assumed to be nervous body language, I mean, you couldn't blame him; this was placed in the middle of nowhere with a loud clown gas station owner. " Is Spaulding making you nervous? He's a lot, but I wear he's just a pussycat he won't hurt ya ``'' oh no no he's fine it's just been a long drive, so how long have you been working here you like it ?" Bill asked while seemingly eyeing you up and down " I like it's it's.." your conversation was cut short by the two women coming inside. They seem to turn their nose up at the place before setting their sights on you with an unimpressed expression, sigh, so it was these types of girls. " Evening ladies! Can I get you anything? We have " " Jerry Bill, when are we going to leave? We don't want to go on this stupid ride," the one you later learned was named Mary said. You took this opportunity to walk away, passing Spaulding toward the backroom; he winked at you as he passed, " everyone ready for the ride; let’s go, people ''.

Afterward, you got your coat and waited for Baby; usually, Otis picked you up from work when you worked nights at the gas station and call him old-fashioned. Still, the idea of you driving alone didn't sit right with him. But this was different; you insisted o. Still, the picking you up because 1. She was already heading into town to get people from red hot pussy liquors, and 2. You knew Otis wanted to work on his art and let off some steam with the cheerleaders there 3. You suddenly saw your guests for the evening event tomorrow. While the group was on the ride, you decided to call the house and inform Baby of the plan. While the guests loaded up into the ride, you pulled Spaulding aside and informed him of what you planned to do. He smiled wide and said, " this is why you're one of our kiddos.” Baby agreed to have you drop her off on the road toward the path of the tree and instructed Rufus to blow out the tires while you went along to the house. 

Everything went off without a hitch. As everyone sat down for dinner, you hurried down the stairs from freshening up in the bathroom; you eyed Otis sitting at the front of the table, god he was so handsome, and you were so in love. You walked over to him when you heard your name "y/n wow hey!! You live here what a small world" you turned to see Bill smiling at you, " oh hey Bill! What a small world indeed" you turned back to Otis ``honey you want a beer?", Otis didn't answer at first; instead he looked back and forth to Bill and you, eyes shifting ever so slightly, he cleared his throat " yeah sure Darlin I'd love one" as you passed him he grabbed your belt hook and pulled your toward him, " give me some sugar first" you happily obliged leaning down to give him a soft kiss on the lips. He kissed you back, never taking his eyes off Bill, who awkwardly looked away from the scene. 

You came back with a beer for Otis and went to take a seat next to him; he instead pulled you down into his lap. You quickly got comfortable not minding the PDA at all; this was your family; they were used to this kind of affection between you both. You looked over to Denise's ring on her hand; it was beautiful, a ruby, you thought. " Wow, that is a gorgeous ring! Is that a ruby" you leaned forward a bit to get a better look, to which Denise pulled her hand away and set her hand on her lap. " Um yeah, it is, and it's a real Ruby too it's from Jerry '' she looked over to him "wow, that was a nice gift," you said " yeah, well I deserve it," Denise replied. " You want a ruby someday y/n? '' Otis asked, causing you to turn back to look at him " I'll get you one day if you want,” “ I wouldn't say no to a ruby someday,” you replied. The rest of the night went on as planned; the group was tied up and used for the family's party favors. 

As the night winded down, you stood out in the backyard smoking; the house had been pretty humid with the rain and hot air; it was a nice stillness standing under the porch watching the rain. " There you are the fuck you doing out here, shoulda told me you were going for a smoke" Otis appeared behind you, standing in the doorway biting his lower lip. "Sorry handsome, you looked so focused and didn't wanna intrude on the art project" he sat down next to you on the porch bench as you passed him the joint. " This was a good day, '' you told him, leaning Into him as he put his arm around you. " Yeah, it was huh," he takes a long drag of the joint and slowly blow it out, " you think you could see yourself doing this forever?" " Doing what? smoking in the rain, yeah, of course ``'' I mean spending your days doing fucked up shit with me"  you take the joint back, also taking a long drag, " nowhere else I would rather be ''.

 He removed his arm from behind you and turns to face you. "I've been thinking," he scratches his face and looks down at his hand all stained with blood, " I know I ain't the most attentive or expressive kinda guy. I'm not good with the mushy shit," you start to protest. He puts his hand up " let me finish like I was saying I ain't good at the mushy shit or telling you how I feel. I know I can be a pain in the fucking ass to deal with, but you are the greatest thing I've ever come across." He looks at you fully this time with sincerity and vulnerability you've never seen; it was rare to see this much from Otis, usually only showing you got some pieces of his soft side when you two were alone. 

You didn't Dare move or speak after that. It was almost like you were seeing a baby deer in front of you. You didn't want to spook him, the forgotten joint just burning between your fingertips." For one, you're as sharp as a tack; I can't talk to anyone else about what I can talk to you about. You're patient with the fact I'm a grumpy asshole; you like my huge art; most people can't stand to look at it, but you not only encouraged me to do it, you offer to help. You're loyal and don't ever show signs of hightailing it no matter what you see here. You're funny; you got some comebacks that I never thought would come out of Lil ol, you mamas, and you're sexy as fuck like God damn, I saw the way Bill what's his face was looking at you, and I don't blame him. I don't even know what I did to have you. I mean, look at me, I look like shit," he chuckles; you still hadn’t moved from when he began talking. " I guess what I'm saying is I know I have made you feel insecure this past; weeks, but like I'm sorry ok, and I don't want you to ever doubt how I feel about cha" he then reaches into his pocket and pulls out the ruby ring.. "so I was wondering" " oh my god! " This pulled you out of your trance. “ Are you... I what are you" " hey, can you shut up and let me finish?" " Sorry, sorry," he starts again, " I want you to know I'm in this for the long haul your mine forever, alright? So you ok with that or no?" " You nodded a huge clumsy nod feeling the tears start to form in your eyes, " I'ma need a verbal yes or no here you are crying doesn't tell me shit" " yes a thousand times yes" he slipped the ring on your finger which shockingly was a perfect fit, you jumped onto his lap and straddled him linking your hands around his neck into his long hair, he rested his hands under your butt gripping them, " I'm your forever Mr. Driftwood." 

You both sat this way for a while, just taking in each other's smells and listening to each other's heartbeat; the only sound to be heard was the falling rain. "Otis?" "Hmm," he hummed, buried in your neck, nuzzling. " Can I help today?" You usually helped with the artistic side of the whole ordeal, helping him assemble, get supplies, clean the bodies. Still, you never joined in on the actual killing despite all the time you've been here, but something about today seemed like the right time to jump in. How eyes shot open, and he looked up at you with a wild surprised, yet aroused look, " you sure sugar? You don't have to know, but God damn, it's so sexy to hear you say that '' he gripped his hold on your waist, leaning forward, and kissed you slowly yet profoundly, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into his mouth, tightening the handle on his neck; you pulled back, gasping for air " yeah, I'm sure I wanna do this with you" " shit mamas, let's go then HELL YEAH'' he hoisted you up bridal style and carried you into the house down to the basement. 

[thebluelemontree]

Hey, sorry to be a bother but do you know any metas about Driftwood and the mythological significance of have Stranger called such? If not, could you please help me find any metas about the importance of Stranger (the horse and the god) to Sandor's future? Thank you!!

It’s no bother at all.  I love talking about this stuff.  I don’t recall any other metas specifically on that topic, but I do go into the meaning of Driftwood/Stranger in Part VI of my Winds prediction essay for Sandor.  I’m staying narrowly focused on your question here, but mythological significance branches out much farther and features heavily throughout each section of that essay if you have any further interest.     

And the seventh face … the Stranger was neither male nor female, yet both, ever the outcast, the wanderer from far places, less and more than human, unknown and unknowable. Here the face was a black oval, a shadow with stars for eyes. It made Catelyn uneasy. –  Catelyn IV, ACOK.  

Of the Seven, the Stranger is the one most regarded with fear for his/her association with death and the unknown.  He/she’s either depicted as a shrouded half-human, half-animal, or with a blacked-out void for a face.  Sandor has that thematic aesthetic going on with his hound’s head helm, which gives him the appearance of being both a man and a beast.  That is a reflection of the duality of his identity between Sandor and the Hound.  He frequently enters a scene by stepping out from the shadows, so he also fits with the shadowy figure version.  Sandor also isn’t one to allow others to know his true self, at least until Sansa, Arya, and the Elder Brother.  Rarely does any worshipper pray to the Stranger as few are eager to invite death itself in, of course.  It’s no wonder that the outcasts of society might identify with that lonely aspect of being an unwelcome presence and having nowhere to belong.  

For Sandor to give his horse such a blasphemous name, it’s because he views himself as someone who is feared and misunderstood, and as an outsider who stands on the outside looking in at the world.  This is especially true as he is immersed in the culture of knighthood but emphatically rebels against it.  There is much of ordinary life that is closed off to Sandor, and it’s not all due to his trauma response and poor coping skills alienating him from other people.  A lot of it is just unfair.  His perceived ugliness in a society that overwhelmingly favors physically beautiful people and despises disability or disfigurement has hindered his ability to create meaningful connections with others.  That resentment has only built up throughout his life.  He’s a second son who is forced to make his own way in the world since Gregor is the sole beneficiary of the Clegane lands and incomes.  It’s Gregor that got the home and wife (three to be exact), which is the domestic life that would normally ground a man, giving him a sense of purpose and satisfying his emotional needs.  Gregor doesn’t care for any of that, but there is a hint that Sandor feels this is something that has been denied him.  Since many people fail to distinguish Sandor as different from his brother, Gregor’s infamy and the rumors surrounding the deaths of his wives and family members really don’t help either.  After the BotBW, Sandor is really cut adrift from society by his desertion.  He’s unfairly marked as a craven, and then in a tragic case of mistaken identity is wanted for the rape and massacre of the Saltpans.  That’s about as hated and reviled as one can get.  

Like other instances of named horses being a reflection of their riders, Stranger’s nature says a lot about Sandor’s.  He’s proficient in battle, brave, disciplined, but extremely ill-tempered, and dangerous; however, with gentle handling from a master that has earned his trust, he’s able to respond in kind.

The horse was a heavy courser, almost as big as a destrier but much faster. Stranger, the Hound called him. Arya had tried to steal him once, when Clegane was taking a piss against a tree, thinking she could ride off before he could catch her. Stranger had almost bitten her face off. He was gentle as an old gelding with his master, but otherwise he had a temper as black as he was. She had never known a horse so quick to bite or kick.

There’s a bond there.  The horse isn’t just a tool or weapon to be used.  Sandor cares for this big, scary boy that no one else can get close to.  After rescuing Sansa from the riot, his next thought is to go back to find his horse in the chaos and fire.  Because Sandor gave him the name, it shows that he has the self-awareness of how his issues and anti-social behavior have only served to increase his sense of isolation and cement other people’s negative opinions.  The only reason an animal would so readily bite or kick indiscriminately is that it’s in constant fear of being hurt by people (*sob*).  It’s possible Sandor recognized a warhorse that was trained with brutal methods, not unlike his own childhood and adolescence.  One can imagine how much patience, kindness, and courage it took to bring such an ornery beast to the point where he can trust and reciprocate.            

People are more complicated than animals, of course; however, this is definitely meant to mirror his relationship with Sansa and her gentleness, compassion, and courage in the face of his anger issues.  Though not many are not keen on giving attention to the Stranger in their prayers, Sansa does pray for Sandor’s safety and well-being.  The Stranger is the last deity people turn to for comfort, and yet Sansa views Sandor as her protector and ally.  She wishes for his presence at times, even after seeing him at his worst.  And I love, love, love this line from Cersei about Sansa, who is deep into the unkiss rabbit hole at this point:

“… but before I am done with her, I promise you, she will be singing to the Stranger, begging for his kiss.“ – Cersei IV, AFFC.

So that brings us to Stranger’s renaming to Driftwood, but first, we need to ask what exactly is the Quiet Isle?  Quoting from Part IV of my essay:

“The Quiet Isle is also a place to cross over into the afterlife in more than one way.  Sometimes the dead and dying wash up on the shores, as did the Elder Brother.  Sometimes they are brought there like the Hound or the people of the Saltpans after the massacre to die or be healed.  The metaphoric and most common way is for penitents to abandon their old lives to be reborn in a new monastic life.  In a sense, the brothers on the isle are dead to the outside world.  They don’t speak with few exceptions.  Many cover their faces as well, obscuring their past identity.  Their brown robes and cowls are like the dead driftwood that washes up there, but even driftwood gets reborn as beautiful polished furniture and cups.  If you want to come on the Quiet Isle, you need Elder Brother’s or one of his proctor’s permission.  There’s a ferry to the isle which is evocative of Charon.  So that makes Elder Brother, like Garth Greenhand, a psychopomp.  He’s a gatekeeper between life and death, literal and metaphoric, and can also return people to the world of the living.  The imagery is evocative of the Elysian Fields and especially Avalon, where King Arthur was taken to recover from wounds sustained against Mordred at the Battle of Camlann and is destined to return from. ”  

Driftwood was dead and washed up, but then it is collected, reshaped and polished into something beautiful with a new purpose in its second life.  Driftwood in this context is a metaphor for healing and redemption.    

“The furnishings were strange but simple; a long table, a settle, a chest, several tall cases full of books, and chairs. All were made from driftwood, oddly shaped pieces cunningly joined together and polished till they shone a deep gold in the candlelight.” – Brienne VI, AFFC.

Amazing Grace, How sweet the soundThat saved a wretch like meI once was lost, but now am foundT'was blind but now I see

I zero doubts that Sandor’s character is undergoing a radical and profound transformation on the Quiet Isle.  He was broken down enough to be open to it when the Elder Brother picked him up from the shore of the Trident.  Also kinda miraculous that Stranger must have allowed himself to be led by another person while Sandor was incapacitated; however, it’s obvious Stranger is never going to spend the rest of his days as a plowhorse.  

Brother Narbert sighed. “The Seven send us blessings, and the Seven send us trials. Handsome he may be, but Driftwood was surely whelped in hell. When we sought to harness him to a plow he kicked Brother Rawney and broke his shinbone in two places. We had hoped gelding might improve the beast’s ill temper, but … Brother Gillam, will you show them?”

Brother Gillam lowered his cowl. Underneath he had a mop of blond hair, a tonsured scalp, and a bloodstained bandage where he should have had an ear. – Brienne VI, AFFC.  

This makes me laugh because although I believe Sandor has learned to have a healthier mindset through humble service and meaningful penance, he probably has been a veritable pill through the process.  As Stranger kicks and rebels, we should definitely conclude that Sandor’s time with the holy brothers is not permanent.  Especially considering that the horse adamantly refuses to be gelded, Sandor will not be submitting to the celibate life of a monk.  The new name likely won’t stick, because Sandor didn’t so much need a whole new identity, but to restore his original one.  The Hound is dead, but Sandor Clegane lives, polished and remade with a new purpose to his life.               

[taehyungsgrowl]

The idea of Older!Duncan having this pretty summer house at this exclusive beach is almost canon. So in his mid life crisis he bought a boat (bc ofc Duncan knows how to sail) and takes his sugar babies sailing like all the time, having some romantic and sexy times under the sky (plus points of Jim tries to teach him how to surf, more plus points if y/n records the whole thing in her phone) Duncan LOVES every second of it because hes with the people he adores -drunk anon

amiga! sorry it’s taken me bit of time to get to this, but after our earlier convo of Duncan x Jim & Y/N as his sugar babies feat. roleplaying - I was reinspired. Sorry if I went a little off the request + idk anything about surfing lmfao hope you enjoy babe!

Duncan would have multiple properties throughout the country; spacious modern condos for when he was in the city, quiet mountain side ranches that we swore he’d have the time to visit, but he never did, but his favorite was his beach front summer house.

White driftwood side panels complimented by deep navy accents on the window sills, elevated porch with white wood encompassing the stairs leading to the door; it was gorgeous (Better Home and Gardens had featured it on the cover last season.)

And the view. The view was worth the hefty price tag Duncan dished out. Located on a private beach front, the ocean was but a mere few feet away. He hadn’t met his surfer boy when he purchased the house, but now it all made sense to him.

-

“You guys are gonna love it. It’s right on the beach. Nice, quiet, secluded.” Duncan drove with one hand turning into the private lot that led them closer to his house.

Jim was on the edge of the backseat, his face looking over Duncan’s shoulder. Both Y/N and Duncan could feel the excitement radiating off of him; he was like a kid on Christmas morning.

“I, for one, was ready to get out of the city.” Y/N yawned, propping her feet up on the dashboard.

“I think we all needed it, love.” Duncan smiled over at her.

Jim’s chin rested on Duncan’s shoulder watching the curvy turns in the road, anxious to see even the slightest glance of an open body of water. It had been too long since he’d been in his element. He missed salty hair, tan skin, and the feeling of sand between his toes.

After what felt like an eternal car ride they arrived at Duncan’s (what would now be theirs) summer home.

Jim and Duncan carried the bags in for Y/N. Jim could hardly turn his attention away from the sea.

Jim and Y/N rushed to the beach like a couple of kids after being settled in. Duncan following behind, carrying a couple of towels. He wore black swimming trunks and a dark pair of sunglasses; Duncan found a spot on the sand to lay and tan while Jim and Y/N hurried into the water.

He watched them from behind his dark shades; Jim in his tiny yellow trunks almost made him salivate in addition to watching Y/N in a white string piece. He was only waiting for the right time to pull him to his side to ravish them.

“Dunc!” Y/N called out, a hand shielding her face from the sun, “come join -” she was cut off by Jim grabbing her waist and playfully tossing her back into the water.

“Jim!” she squealed, “you little shit!” laughter erupted as they splashed each other.

They eventually tired and joined Duncan out on his towel. They each laid their heads on his tummy, earning them a groan from him. The three enjoying the warm sun on their skin, listening to the crashing sounds of waves.

It wasn’t until Duncan heard Jim snoring softly that he chuckled and brought them back to the house.

Their first night was spent sitting on the porch drinking chilled white wine.

Y/N sat in Duncan’s lap pointing out the constellations in the sky; something they couldn’t easily do in the city.

Jim nestled himself in between Duncan’s legs so Y/N could play with his hair. Simply being surrounded by his loved ones watching the darkening ocean made him happy.

Y/N smiled proudly as Jim rambled on and on about how he was going to teach Duncan to surf.

“No baby..” he shook his head, “I’d rather just watch you do it.” his nose drawing a line down Y/N’s jaw.

Jim’s blue eyes peered up, “Please, daddy.” his smirk said he knew exactly what he was doing by using that word. It made Duncan go crazy for it. And if he were being honest there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for these two.

At the break of dawn Jim was up and nibbling on Duncan’s earlobe, “Duncan..” he’d whine quietly, “C’mon..”

Duncan only pulled Jim back into bed, holding him firmly into his chest; Y/N snoring peacefully besides them.

“Shh, baby.. Don’t wanna wake up our princess yet.” the tip of his nose would brush Jim’s.

“Why don’t we just.” he pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “sleep,” another kiss, “in..” his tongue slipping in Jim’s mouth.

Surfing momentarily forgotten, Jim melted into Duncan’s kiss before falling asleep on his chest again.

–

Jim rested his hand on the small of Duncan’s back while he laid tummy down on the surfboard. “Just move your arms.” he laughed, guiding Duncan further into the water.

Y/N couldn’t help but find the interaction so endearing. Reaching for the polaroid in her beach bag she snapped pictures of her boys playing in the water.

Jim was enjoying being able to teach Duncan something. With Duncan being much older than both Y/N and him, the slight power rush of teaching the older man something filled his mind with an infinite amount of ideas.

Water dripped from their hair and bodies as they finally made their way out of the water. The glared at Y/N who sat pretty on her beach towel giggling at the pictures she’d taken.

Exchanging a look between the two of them, they gently tackled her, taking the pictures out of her hands and covering her in kisses.

“What’s so funny, princess?” Duncan spoke into her neck, “Daddy can’t surf quite as well as Jimmy?”

Jim laughed, nuzzling his face into her.

Trading another look and silently nodding -  Duncan scooped her up and ran into the water with her. She squealed and kicked her legs, “sorry sorry sorry!” she pleaded in between fits of laughter.

Duncan felt like his summer house finally became a home. Full a life and laughter with his babies.

Visits to the beach were going to become a routine for the three.

[kedreeva]

I am very amused (and very appreciative) of how you are now the source of all knowledge for both fowl and cats. However, I must inquire how your tanks are doing?

The most hilarious thing is?? I don’t know The Most about cats at all. Everything we’ve been talking about is really basic knowledge. The problem is that it’s not really common knowledge. The common knowledge regarding cats, for some reason is, that you acquire one and then you basically don’t have to do anything except give it food, water, and scoop its litterbox, let it outside to do wahtever, maybe play with it once in a while. And that’s just... not what cats are at all. There’s so much basic knowledge missing from the common knowledge that it seems like someone who knows anything at all knows a lot. But I do know a lot about fowl, that part’s true lol

Anyway you came here about tanks! I am pleased to inform you they’re doing great! We finally added the last two little driftwood pieces to the 55g, and transferred back a few of the favored swordtails. I JUST pulled all the massively excess java moss to put in other tanks, so it looks a bit bare right now, and a good, thorough vacuum and water change is due this weekend, so don’t mind the mess:

I also, a little over two weeks ago, stumbled upon some absolutely gorgeous calico mollies (so beautiful that I even bought one of the bowtail ones, when I usually only like the lyretail mollies). They’ve been in quarantine, but have officially joined the crew, and have no qualms about arriving to food time with everyone else!

The axies are doing well, in their *ahem* extremely frosty tank. The temp is getting up there now, so the chiller is working overtime to keep them nice and cold. Unfortunately it means we don’t really get to look at them much...

But that’s okay. As long as they’re happy, I’m happy. Here’s the worst photo of them chilling out in the dark corner (the flash made it bright, and also the worst). Don’t worry, the orbs on the bottom are condensation under the tank, not gravel:

The tank for my sister’s wedding present is coming along. We went up north to scavenge a little sand from a lake we used to frequent as kids, spent some time baking it to clean it of anything bad, and added it to the tank with the bonsai tree driftwood. I’ve been attaching moss to the branches of the tree, to make it look more tree-like, but it’s still... a work in progress, don’t judge me. I did get the planters for the top, and started growing things.

And since the 30g was clear, I snagged a couple of crayfrish from the same lake I got the substrate (the crayfish are Rusty Crayfish, an invasive species here, so we’re welcome to take as many as we can find), and brought them home to live. I’ve been adding rocks to the tank and building structures for them, and they’re so fun to watch come out and 1st threaten the new structures with their claw waving, and then climb all over them investigating. They’re sleeping rn, but here’s the tank so far!

We had to buy a canister filter so I could keep the water level low, because the boy keeps trying to get out and I’m planning on putting “shore” plants in this one eventually, in the little riparium planters. On the bright side, that means I get to grow duckweed!! I LOVE DUCKWEED!!

And then there’s the little betta lady’s tank. I actually think I like her best, she has such a great little personality. She’s new to the house, and her fins were pretty beat up, but she’s active and responsive and curious as can be!

She’s in with some neocaridina friends currently because....

We are in the process of setting them up their very own nano tank in the kitchen! I say nano, but they’re each 5g, and honestly I’m not sure what constitutes “nano” in regards to tank size. Anyway, I have a second one like the one on the right that still needs to be set up, which I will be doing later today. These are my birthday tanks, because it’s my birthday today!

[btsimaginefactory]

At the Beach with BTS - Moodboards and Scenarios

{{i’m sorry that these are messy but it was so hard trying to paint the picture without the board looking too busy and iM SORRY. It’s less “oo aesthetics” and more that these are to give you pics for your mind. But I hope you’re still into this💖}}

Seokjin

“Are you happy?”

You smile gently at Seokjin words, twining your fingers with his as you both sit on the riverbank. More than a dozen stripped box turtles, all in various sizes and ages, paddle cutely at the edge, waiting for more pieces of carrots to be throw from their generous new friends. “I am so happy Seokjin.”

Seokjin’s smile gleams in the light of the sunset, and he leans to kiss you on your temple. He’d wanted to go to the beach with you for a long time, and now you finally had the time. Seokjin rented a house situated strategically between the secluded shoreline and the marsh. What had drawn him to this beach was the privacy, yes, but it was also the beautiful variation of landscapes and an abundant amount of wildlife. In the morning you watched wild horses play on the beach from your balcony, naming each one and giving them elaborate back stories, narrating their interactions. Seokjin was startled by how close they came to the house and how at peace they seemed living side by side with humans.

Almost every afternoon was spent under the umbrella on the sand with packed lunches; idly fishing for minnows before letting them free again as you watch the vibrant sunset over the horizon, and nights spent counting endless stars.

“Listen I’m telling you, THAT one is the big dipper,” you stress.

“No, it’s not because that star should be over there if it’s the big dipper!”

“...Jin you can’t just move stars around to prove yourself right.”

Several days the two of you went to local shops, exploring all the beautiful and wacky things you could find. He was especially drawn to a hobby shop that had all kinds of intricately made sculptures from shells and driftwood. Seokjin commented that he liked he couldn’t find any two alike, and in that same way he could never find someone exactly like you who he loved so much. A slap is quickly delivered to his arm at his gushy words, making him laugh, but getting a kiss from you in the end.

Yoongi

“Yoongi you do realize coming to the beach in the winter kind of defeats the purpose of coming to the beach,” you sigh, looking out the sliding glass doors of your hotel room overlooking the ocean shore. He’s already outstretched on the giant king-sized bed, humming in satisfaction when you come and kick his leg.

“Ow sheesh,” he exclaims, eyes meeting your crestfallen face. “Okay well, I did in fact plan this very carefully and invested many hours to make things perfect.” 

He rolls over and leans down to his bag, pulling out some pieces of paper and holding them in front of his gummy grin. You have to squint, but the bright letters of a pamphlet for a well know indoor water park is undeniable.

“NO WAY,” you gasp, snatching them out of his hands and rifling through the packet. “Are you serious?”

He nods.

“Really really? As in you’re actually gonna play with me and not be a lazy potato chip?”

“I am! I promise,” he laughs. “Why do you think I spent so much time picking stuff out for us to do? Don’t you see the view,” he gestures dramatically at the balcony. You can’t help but laugh and pull his cheeks in for a kiss, making him look very pleased.

Yes it was true you’d agreed to go to the beach with Yoongi during the dead of winter, but the surprise and lively atmosphere you found was exactly what the two of you needed. The hotel was connected to the water park by an indoor bridge, and surprisingly, Yoongi cared the giant inflatable unicorn proudly each day, bopping you in the head with it constantly. After swimming and playing, and him throwing you down one to many insane waterslides, you crash in the hotel room with warm comfort, room service, and movies.

Yoongi kisses your forehead and smiled as you lay in his arms. “So should we do the same thing tomorrow or should we go see some of the other things around here?”

Hoseok

When you were looking for a place to rent at a nearby beach online, Hoseok was immediately drawn to the strip of brightly colored buildings on the boardwalk. “Let’s go there! That’s so pretty! And there’ll be lots of places to go.” And so you did, spending loads of time in different shops, buying way too many souvenirs, and an equal time relaxing on the beach.

It was probably a bad idea to suggest a sandcastle building competition because 3 hours later you realized you’d both spent the whole day building a mini-utopia; giving up the competition after signing a treaty to no more sand thrown and opting instead to build your own joined kingdoms. Hoseok desperately tried to save one crumbling wall as the tide came in, but sank to his knees in defeat, promptly having a wave crash over his head from behind as if to add insult to injury. He comes crying to you as you laugh at his dripping wet, salty face, but is sure to trap you in a hug to get you wet as well.

“Baby how about we just shower and order takeout,” he suggests when you arrive at the condo, panting after climbing the 3 flights of stairs.

“How can you be tired from that, you literally can dance nonstop for way longer,” you huff, throwing a towel in his face.

After taking a soothing shower together, the two of you crash on the bed with your take out and TV, while finding all the little red areas you missed with sunscreen where each of you were now burned. “See I told you-you should have put some behind your ears,” he scolds and you simply cover his face with your hands.

“Shh, shh, shh, don’ worry ‘bout it.”

Namjoon

It was the best surprise you’ve ever gotten in your life. When you told Namjoon you were staying at the beach with your family, expressing that you wished he could be there to experience it with you, he decided to do just that. After secret communications with your family, seemingly out of the blue he shows up at your door and you almost knock him over completely in your enthusiastic hug. You introduce him formally to your family, and they immediately like him, if only by the way you glowed around him. They realize quickly he must be an incredible person and one who was absolutely good for you.

Being able to share this important time with him was everything; watching him grow comfortable with everyone, and hiding in embarrassment at all the stories they spilled from your childhood; everything felt so at home about him. The next day you were dragging him out of bed much too early to spend it all with him on the beach. Needless to say he was terrified when you warned him about not swimming in the ocean because of sharks, but he excitedly dug for sand-fiddlers and mole crabs, putting them in a bucket and examining them before letting them free again. That very evening, you two were lucky enough to watch sea turtles hatch, lining up with the other people watching, and giving them a protected path to the ocean as Namjoon squeals in delight.

Every night was filled with good meals and laughter, playing in the heated pool under the stars, and cuddling up in bed sharing stories, relishing that you had him there in the flesh. He pushes your hair behind your ear as he cradles you in his arms. “I wish I could stay here with you forever.”

“Me too Namjoon,” you say with a sad smile, trying not to even think of this time together ending.

“But we will soon.”

Jimin

It wasn’t Jimin’s most favorite idea when you told him you had booked a shared home at the beach; he didn’t know if he felt comfortable staying with strangers. It was an older couple who, after their children grew up and left, opened up a section of their house for travelers so they could share this place with people from all around the world. Jimin agrees though, and in only a few hours of being there, he was so glad that he did.

When you arrive at the bungalow nestled in the seaside forest, the couple takes you on a tour around the house, and more importantly, outside on one of the many trails. After getting over that initial little bit of awkwardness, you and Jimin didn’t turn down a single activity they suggested, for all of them were so perfectly new and exciting. You slowly watched Jimin come out of his shell, bouncing around like the happy, adventurous boy you loved. His favorite part was kayaking through the marsh and inlet, canopied by tall, vibrant trees, and hundreds of different species of birds chattering amongst the reeds.

“Woah look at that one,” Jimin yells in a hushed voice, pointing at a bright white, gangly crane fishing at the bank. “Did you see how it just snapped it’s beak in there and grabbed the fish? It was so fast, like whoosh! I could probably do that.”

“... Jimin what are you even saying?”

“It’s because you don’t believe in me, that's why I can’t grab a fish out of the water with my bare hand.”

You have to stop your eyes from rolling all the way back into your head as he giggles. When you return to the house, you’re all gathered around a fire pit in the backyard to eat dinner, eagerly telling the couple all about where you were from. You fall asleep on his shoulder as you lay beneath the stars, peacefully breathing in the salty air and wondering what tomorrow will bring.

Taehyung

“Greece?!”

“Greece!”

You can only pause. “Greece?”

Taehyung nods in confirmation. “Greeeeeece!” He’d seen a picture float across the internet somewhere of this beautiful resort, and he immediately knew he had to take you. Taehyung is one who is always ready for an adventure and travel, so he expects you to be the same. The resort is at the foot of a mountain, the bright blue sea as a backdrop, making the large sanded smooth white buildings look majestic and nothing short of magical. You have a cabin to yourselves, one in front of a small private pool that glowed purple in the evening; one that you convinced him to go skinny dipping in. It’s easy to have fun with Taehyung, even in a foreign place, but he takes special care to make the trip especially romantic and appreciative. He pampers you like royalty and announces that you are going to be his official model for all his pictures he had yet to take.

“Wow you are a natural,” Taehyung chuckles as he snaps a picture of you posed beneath a twisted tree. “I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.”

“Practice makes perfect I suppose, and so does such a handsome teacher,” you say, pecking his lips. The day is spent on the sand under a large tent, and yes you did have to wait before starting to drink your fancy drink because he wanted to photograph it all, but with his cute grin how could you say no?

Jungkook

“Jungkook don’t you think this is a bit much,” you ask, setting your bag down in the foyer just as Jungkook runs past you around the expansive dining room.

“No no of course not! We’re only young once; when else would we have this opportunity? Come on,” he grabs your hand and pulls you along, peeking in every room as if looking for something. After ‘oo-ing’ and ‘aw-ing’ at the bright coral walls and happy paintings, you head downstairs to find perhaps the biggest reason your boyfriend rented this particular beach house.

“Oh my gosh now I get it,” you say, holding the bridge of your nose but getting equally excited as you’re greeted with a giant arcade room. A flat screen tv, new video games as well as classic arcade games, a ping pong table, and even a pool table were all sitting shiny and tempting and Jungkook is giggling like a kid in a candy store.

You barely have time to reach him before his eyes meet something outside the window in the backyard. “Oh. My. Gosh. There’s a jet ski,” he whispers, instantly bolting towards the door with you yelling behind him.

“Jungkook for God’s sake please don’t kill yourself!!”

You’d thought it was a little wasteful to rent a three-story house with 8 bedrooms for only the two of you, but he quickly washes away your worries with the private pool and access to the dock with a jet ski and kayaks, as well as running around the large house and screaming your lungs out just because there was no one there to stop you. The house was at the end of a small, private cul de sac, and a mere golf cart ride to the shore. It was quieter than you would’ve imagined you’d enjoy, but as you sit on the crows nest overlooking the inlet, watching Jungkook photograph the sunset, you couldn’t imagine anywhere else on earth you’d rather be.

{{I’ve actually experienced three of these imagines AND IF YOU CAN CORRECTLY GUESS WHICH THREE, YOU GET *spins roulette wheel anxiously* ... ah... ha ha... apparently to punch me in the d💫}}

-Admin Chaejeong

[thatbluegibson]

CH 35

“All right, get out,” Liz leaned against Dave and Krist’s table and gathered up their empty beer glasses. They both looked up at her with bleary eyes as she wiped down their table with a wet rag, but they didn’t move. “Don’t make me sing the song, guys,” she called over her shoulder with a laugh, taking their glasses back to the bar.

“Sing it!” Krist slumped back in his chair with a grin.

Liz went about closing up the bar as she loudly sang the Semisonic song as off key as she could. Dave laughed as Krist drunkenly tried to head bang to her song before joining Liz at the bar. She looked up when he leaned against a roughed timber post.

“Need help?” he watched her finish loading the counter top dishwasher and press the start button.

“Nope!” she smiled at him and threw a rag over her shoulder, “I’m all done! Where are you two headed after this?”

Dave looked over at Krist who was leaning forward on the tabletop with his chin in his hands, watching them with interest.

“Oh, jesus,” Liz laughed, “I’ll drive you home.”

*

Liz slid into the front seat of Krist’s electric car while Dave shoved his friend in the backseat. She looked all over the dashboard for an ignition, but found nothing that looked even close to one.

“Start!” she yelled at the steering wheel, “Please?”

Dave climbed into the front seat next to her and held Krist’s keys to a small square next to the radio. Liz shook her head as the car quietly started.

“Goddamn rocket ships,” she muttered, putting her seat belt on.

“Your car will be okay here overnight?” Dave asked, looking around the dark parking lot behind the bar.

“Oh, I didn’t drive,” Liz said as they backed out of their parking space, “I was going to take the beach home.”

“She means walk,” Krist leaned forward into the front seat.

“You can just walk along the beach at night?” Dave looked at Liz, surprised.

“It’s the Oregon Coast, not Watts,” she laughed and turned onto the town’s main drag.

The entire town was closed down for the night, though it was only 10:30. A few couples were walking towards the hotels, but the sidewalks were otherwise deserted. Liz drove just a few blocks before turning down a short gravel road that ended with a public beach access and pulled over in front of the last house.

“Ever been here before?” Liz asked Dave as they followed Krist up the flagstone path to the bright blue front door.

Dave shook his head and looked over her shoulder towards the ocean where a fishing boat’s lights bobbed a few miles out.

“You’ll love it,” he could see her smile in the dim light and turn to Krist as he struggled to get his key into the deadbolt, “I’m gonna go through the back, Krist. Night, guys,” and before Dave could speak, she hopped off the porch and disappeared around the side of the small cottage.

Krist managed to get the front door open and Dave followed him inside, heading straight to the back of the house to see where Liz went. The small backyard was illuminated by a half moon and he could just see her walking up a little hillside to the house directly behind Krist’s. It was bigger, at least two stories, with a wraparound porch on the lower level and deck on the upper. He watched her walk inside and the lower level lit up as she closed the door behind her. A few moments later, the lights in the upstairs flickered on, revealing a dining room and kitchen. She appeared in the kitchen window, busy pulling her hair into a knot at the top of her head when Dave’s phone beeped. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket and grinned.

You look like a fucking serial killer lurking in the window like that.

He looked back up at Liz, who was now leaning over her kitchen counter with her phone in her hand. She waved and walked out of sight as Dave tapped out a reply.

Just making sure you got home

He went to find Krist and heard his phone go off again when he saw him in the kitchen.

And you want to wear my skin to your birthday party?

Dave laughed a little, I was working up to that, but now that the subject has arisen…

“Gross,” Dave looked up at Krist’s voice. He was leaning back in a dining room chair, shaking his head at the look on Dave’s face, “Come see what Dee found.”

Dave tried to ignore the notification beep on his phone and sat down at the kitchen table. Krist slid a shoe box towards him and nodded when Dave looked up at him. He opened the top of the box and pulled out the yellowed piece of paper resting on the very top of a pile. It was covered in brightly colored flowers, clouds and birds, a rainbow and a person on what looked like a surfboard. Dave flipped it over and noticed faded pencil marks in a child’s handwriting.

Mr. Crist,

I am sorry about your friend. He was my friend too. He helped me plant flowers and sang me a song about sunshine. I can sing it for you if you want me to.

Love,

Nicole

Dave’s eyes flashed to Krist, who was looking at a photograph with a faint smile. He handed the photo to Dave, who braced himself before looking. The picture was taken from the back of the cottage, out into the backyard he just watched Liz walk through. A little girl about nine or ten was sitting in the bright green grass, smiling happily up at a blonde man in a white shirt and blue flannel, holding an old acoustic guitar.

“It used to be her grandparent’s place before she bought it,” Krist explained, “Those kids spent every summer there. Kurt came down for a week to get out of Seattle and… well…”

Dave set the photo back on the table and ran his hand through his hair. “She failed to mention any of this.”

“She doesn’t talk to me about it either. Why would she?”

“Everyone else wants to talk about him,” Dave said bitterly.

Krist sat up and leaned his elbows on the table top, “She’s not everyone else though. She understands it’s in poor form to dredge up shit like that.”

Dave thought about his words for a moment, then looked back in the box. Several photographs of her through the years were stacked inside, many of her surfing or riding a bike on the beach.

“Dee adores those three,” Krist laughed, “Shelli… not so much.”

Dave smiled and flipped through the photos, “Shelli didn’t even like me and I was the most lovable out of the three of us.” He frowned at a photo of a teenage Liz sitting on a driftwood log next to a large bonfire. She was smiling, but one side of her face was shaded in a dark blue and yellow bruise. He held the photo up to Krist, “What the fuck happened here?”

Krist looked closely at the photo and thought for a moment, “That was quite the small town scandal,” he finally said. Dave remained silent, waiting for him to go on. “She was dating the mayor’s kid and he beat the ever loving hell out of her one night at a party. She went back home early that summer and the kid got off scott free. The locals ended up running his entire family out of town within a summer.”

Dave threw the photo back in the box and continued to flip through the stack in his hand, processing that information before he commented on it. It explained her reaction in his kitchen the other night and he thought about the kid’s picture on Nate’s wall. He wondered where that kid was now, then turned back to the box. There were birthday party invitations for her and her siblings, an engagement announcement for her sister, a baby shower invitation and three graduation announcements for Liz that Dave paused to read.

“A Masters in English and Musical Composition and a BA in Political Science and History,” he read aloud, “What a nerd.”

“And she chose to fucking act,” Krist shook his head.

“Who’s this joker?” Dave held up a photo of Liz standing in the tattooed arms of a tall, grinning man.

“Ex husband,” Krist stood up and walked to the sink. “Kyle, I think. His brother is her security guy.”

“Travis?” Dave examined Kyle’s face, seeing the resemblance.

“Yeah. Kyle went a bit off the deep end after she finally left him. Wrecked his bike out here on the 101 not too long ago.”

Dave set the photo down and sat back in his chair. “I just don’t know anything about her.”

“Of course you don’t. You’ve known her for a week.”

“I’ve learned more about her sitting at this table than I ever did directly from her.”

Krist shrugged and looked out of the kitchen window to Liz’s house. “Maybe you just need to ask her.”

[oddferalair]

characterization quotes

Robin Support   See, now you're just not thinking logically. We've killed countless people in this war— what's a few more souls on the ledger? Seems like an arbitrary line to me... But all right. You're the tactician! No more unholy summoning sigils. Heck, I always obey orders! Well, except for stupid ones like "don't fight the enemy." If someone tried to tell me that, I'd cut 'em in half and feed them to the crows! Lissa Support If you don't rest up before a battle, you might find yourself resting up in a grave.   That does seem like a problem. War is killing and death, ya know? Keeping people you care about alive means making the other guy dead. Nya ha ha! Just a little touch of Henry's Super Sleepy-Time Magic! ...The nonlethal version. First you don't want any allies or enemies to die, and now BIRDIES are off the table? ...You're a strange one, Lissa. Nya ha ha! Me? Sweet? That's a new one. Besides, you're the one who's always concerned about people dying and stuff. I don't know how you do it, honestly. I couldn't go a week! I'm not much of a mood guy, I'm afraid, unless we're talking gruesome bloodshed... Well, how about this: I did get you a ring! Will that work? 

Frederick Support

I want my dying thought to be about blood! ...Or maybe ichor. H-hey, Frederick! Easy with the bear hugs! These little bones might snap like...Oh, whoa! Are you CRYING?! You really think people notice what I do around here? 'Cause I doubt it. I mean, what kind of things do they say about me now? Nya ha ha! If you lay it on any thicker, I'll be smothered to death! But I'm not training to make myself look good in front of my comrades, you know?   Well, because the more I practice, the more stuff I'm able to do. I like being good at lots of things. Sully Support Absolutely! I'll need a pound of flesh, seven fingernails, and your left kidney. Nya ha ha! I jest. A single hair will do just fine. Yep yep! That's it, all right. I can curse till I'm blue in the face, but if their will's stronger than mine? Pbbt. Aw, you're going to make me blush. I'm nothing special. Miriel Support You have? That's great! I cast hexes all the time, and I've never come up with ONE theory about them. Nya ha ha! Oh, stop it, Miriel! You'll make me blush. Although it's pretty much true. When it comes to hexing folks, I'm the master. Why, this one time at mage camp, I killed 100 people with one curse! Er, I don't remember when. ...Or where exactly. But it totally could have happened. Henry: Well, you know that town we passed through a few days ago? I saw a pregnant lady on the main street with a load of cheese and fruit in her arms. She looked pretty tired and worn out, so I stopped to help her carry her wares.     Right?! Anyway, the more I thought about it, the more I realized pregnancy is dumb. So I'm planning to help the mothers of the world by inventing a special curse. I'm gonna create a hex that conjures new kids right out of thin air! Sumia Support I'm a mage! I just wave my wand and mutter a little incantation... Humina humina humina... Presto! The busted bowls are busted no more! Yeah, it's just a temporary hex, unfortunately. Tomorrow they'll be in pieces again. But at least folks won't have to eat out of their hats tonight. Oh, that spell can certainly be used for evil. All it does is reverse time. See, so if something bad happens to someone and you cast it on them... They have to experience that same tragedy over and over again! Nya ha! Isn't it obvious? You're me, and I'm you! Clever curse, eh? Well, you're about as magic as an old sock, so this was the only way. And while you cast some hexes, I'm going to ride your pegasus all over camp! Woo-hoo! I'm gonna swoop down on people and drop stuff on their heads! Ricken Support Oh? I thought word had gotten around. Yeah, Gangrel was toppled before I got the chance to fight any real battles. A shame, too. It would've been fun to face off against the Shepherds! Then there was Mustafa. He always gave me a bag of peaches whenever I visited. He said I reminded him of his son and that I should consider myself part of his family. Yep. Dead as driftwood, they are. And it was you Shepherds who killed 'em! Their friends and families are probably still crying their eyes out. No! I'd be very sad and angry. And I'd find out who did it, hunt them down, and exact bloody revenge! ...Oh yes. There would be blood. When I was with Plegia, I didn't think much about this kind of thing. Maybe because in that army, I didn't have real friends like I do here. I guess, sure. Honestly, I'm not much good with touchy-feely stuff. You know what I'd rather talk about? The next battle! Maribelle Support Talking to the flower. She says she's very grateful that you spoke to her. Also, she says she'll stay strong as long as you do, too. I'm not feigning anything. I'm just really in touch with the natural world. I can talk to any living thing you want. Trees. Flowers. Maggots. Ooooooh... Maaaggots... Meh, not to me. Everyone kicks the bucket at some point, so why fret? See, now that I can understand. But get this—I've got a special curse ready, see? Been working on it for a while now. If you're mortally wounded, it kills you off before you suffer any pain! Just...poof. Off ya go! It's 'cause I'm not scared, Maribelle. Fighting is actually pretty simple. I just have to kill the other guy before he has a chance to kill me. Panne Support That's not very neighborly, now is it? What difference does one's religion make? I just want to be friends! Ylisse is weak enough as it is. If the exalt were assassinated, I worried they'd lose the war in a week! That would have been a terrible waste of a perfectly fun war. Er, the beast half, I guess. I love animals! I wish I could be one. Even a half one would be okay with me. My parents abandoned me in the woods when I was little. So it was mostly the nice animals there who raised me. I still love their smell. It relaxes me in a totally nostalgic sort of way. So if I went out and killed them all, could we be friends? I'm not that young, and I don't think I'm stupid. But hey, who knows, right? Cordelia Support Oooh, lucky guy. I wish someone would make ME a nice cozy scarf! Ooooooooooooooooooooooooh. Say, what if the wife was dead? Could you give it to him then? That's kind of like making yourself sad on purpose, isn't it? You want help? 'Cause I've got a curse that'll REALLY make you miserab— I asked Lissa for advice, and she told me to take you on a big shopping trip. She said a few hours trying on dresses and armor would fix that broken heart, pronto! I don't really get all this "feelings" stuff, but if you say so. Er, but if you're REALLY grateful, you could join me for a fruit pie... Nya ha! No, it's a scheme to make you fall in love with me. Nowi Support Yep! They're probably quivering in fear under their beds and crying like babies. But no worries! There'll be more victim—er, that is, village kids—at our next camp. Right. You can't actually touch her. My magic is good, but not THAT good! Hey! I spent a lot of time and effort on this, you know! Tharja Support Hee hee! Smiling? This is how I always look. Sorry! Nothing sinister over here. I'm just a hale and hearty mage. Nope! Not me! Although I do own a cloak and a couple daggers. Aw, I don't get into politics. I just want to toss fireballs at bad guys. Hey! Tharja! You forgot to remove the curse! Oh, well. I suppose it'll fizzle out eventually. La la la... Do you need a death curse? Please say you need a death curse. Yeah, dispelling curses is kind of my specialty. Right now, whoever cast that curse must be in one confused pickle! Too bad we can't be there to see it. That would be swell! Oh yeah. I guess so, huh? Although you didn't really need to put a truth curse on me, you know? I don't have anything to hide, and I've never told a lie in my life. Olivia Support You're a crazy lady. Why would I do that? I love doggies! I want to save his life! Right, boy? Who's a good boy? Aren't you glad the crazy lady wants to help us? Yes you are! Hey, that's a medical condition! Show some respect! Oh, will you look at that? It's blood! ...Wonder where it came from? *Lick* ...Oh, hey! It's MY blood! Nya ha! I must have been wounded in battle! Oh man, good times. Oh, I've got a high pain threshold. It's a genetic thing. Nerve damage. I've had a lot worse than this! When I was a kid, my parents put me in this exclusive wizard school. Well, as you can imagine, some of the experiments got a biiit out of hand. Once, I almost set my face on fire! Nya ha! Those were the days... Meh, my parents didn't care what I did as long as I wasn't expelled. Heck, the whole reason they sent me to wizard school was to get rid of me. But hey, no worries! I turned out fine! That's what all my psychiatrists said. But nope! Not true. I'm just a happy guy. Look, crazy lady. I like you. I really do. But you have GOT to let this go. I smile because I'm happy, all right? There's nothing more to it. Olivia? H-hey, Olivia. ...You being crazy again, Olivia? Olivia?! Aw, come on, Olivia! You can't die now! NOOOOO! OLIVIAAAAAA! Come back to me, Olivia! Stay out of the light! STAY OUT OF THE LIIIIIIGHT! Cherche Support Sure have! She's as cute as a button, that one. ...Well, if buttons were cute. We had wyverns in Plegia, you know, and also the occasional fell beast. But we didn't have a single wyvern that was as pretty as Minerva. Yep! I make four-legged friends wherever I go! And even some two-legged ones. I'm also pals with a three-legged bear, but that's a story for another time. Well, when I was young, my best friend in the entire world was a giant wolf. My parents ignored me most of the time, so that wolf became my whole family. Then one day she came to visit me, and some hunters in the village... They shot her full of arrows. Killed her on the spot. But they paid... Oh, how they paid... They paid in BLOOD. Er, but yes. None of my magic could bring my beautiful wolf friend back. So I guess that's why I hang out with you and Minerva. 'Cause it reminds me. I know I'm here a lot, but I always feel safe and happy when I'm with Minerva. Kellam Support I think I get it now. Seems to me you're barking up the wrong tree, tin man. Visibility isn't the problem—you're just lonely! So all we gotta do is find a way to make you stop feeling lonely! It's true. When I was a kid, my only friends were wolves, so they ended up raising me. Thing is...that made it tough for me to learn about basic human warmth and affection... Like just now. I tried to be nice to you and show you that I care and stuff, right? But I got it all wrong and instead made you freak out. Sorry about that... Gaius Support Not many, no. Back in Plegia, we hardly have any cakes or sweets at all. We don't get the plentiful harvests that Ylisseans and Feroxi enjoy. So the dishes we make are kind of basic, you know? Nothing like those, anyhow. Yup. It's hard to make cakes out of turnips, though that doesn't stop people trying! Anyway, the point is, I've never seen so many tasty-looking treats all in one place! Well, thanks for showing me your treasures, Gaius. It's been lots of fun! ...Oh, I almost forgot! I brought something to show you too! Yeah...something like that! They're baked in special ceremonies as offerings to Grima. Never eaten one myself, but as you're the expert, I figured you'd like to try it! Libra Support Like, I dunno...you're a priest, but you wield a weapon and smash people with it, right? I bet it causes you all kinds of anguish to have to splatter the life out of others! Aren't you overthinking things a little? A weapon's just a tool for killing! Wouldn't it be a whole lot easier to just accept that and move on? Who knows—you might wind up like me and start to really savor the joys of slaying! I mean, when you get down to it, aren't you and I both doing the exact same thing? I mean, I guess it's hard for an altruist like yourself to respect an egoist like me, but... They do, huh? Well, I don't believe in the gods, so it doesn't really matter what they think! (in response to Libra calling him out for saving other people) ...

[anneway-nitheliniel]

Demands

(Continuing from “Life in a Pack”; anyone else who did not like Saheila and her mother?)

Had they not saved Saheila from the grip of the Lone Wolfs? Were no the elves blissfully happy? Had they not only stayed alive but were also, at least for the moment, save and sound? Lohse could not help the feeling that the past day and its actions had largely been very successful. Why then had the night taken this awkward turn?

Sebille still stood plastered to the place where Ifan hat left her, rigid and unmoving, her arms protectively wrapped around her body. She was biting her lower lip and when her eyes met Lohse’s she looked at her imploringly. Lohse’s heart reached out to her in her apparent loneliness.

“Come!” She stretched out her right hand, grasping the other woman’s elbow. “Sit with us, Sebille! Are you well? What happened to you after you left us?”

But when she started to lead Sebille towards the fire, Saheila interfered. The seers words, as usual, soft spoken but firm.

“Sebille, it is important we speak!”

Lohse felt the tension that had only just started to recede return into Sebille’s body. Irritation rose within her. – Hardly a feeling she appreciated, as irritation strengthened the lodger. Someone was chuckling in her head at this thought.

“It is also important, that she rests,” Lohse snapped rather uncharacteristically. Ifan had had it right. They were a group, a team, a pack. They looked after each other. She felt shaken by the sudden rift that had opened between Ifan and Sebille, although it had not been hard to guess at its cause. With Ifan gone, Lohse felt responsible for keeping things together.

“Sebille, please! Tomorrow you may want to leave. Today we must speak,” Saheila insisted, touching Sebille’s other arm and the elf yielded. She send Lohse a half-hearted but grateful smile before letting herself being led away by Saheila towards the place were her mother was seated at the rim of the camp.

“I do not like this!” Lohse exclaimed, in lack of a better option, looking at Fane for help. The undead did not give away much of what he might be thinking, but to Lohse’s surprise he bowed his head in agreement.

“I agree. How did you put it so profanely but aptly in Driftwood? There is something fishy about this.”

Lohse gaped at him.

“Fane, was that… a joke?”

Besides her concerns she could not help a grin spreading over her face as the undead, lacking mimic ways of expression, shrugged.

“We will keep your eyes on the situation,” he continued, leaving Lohse behind speechless when he turned to find a place to sit closer to where the elves were talking, while still maintaining enough distance to not appear obtrusive.

After a moment, Lohse joined him, but it took a while before the two found back into their own conversation. Fane was studying his notebook intently, turning pages back and forth, stopping here and there to read a passage. Lohse suspected his thoughts were frowning as he seemed unsatisfied with his findings. Finally, he let the book sink in exasperation and turned to the singer.

“I lack information,” he conceded.

“On what?” She was intrigued.

“Human interaction. Or, more precisely, human-elvish interaction. My notes are not sufficient and I cannot recall that any of the books I read in the past had the issue of inter-racial relationships.”

Lohse’s eyes widened, then she chuckled.

“Are you referring to what was passing between Sebille and Ifan?”

Fane nodded, seeming embarrassed.

“I think you might want to consult books on relationships in general. This has nothing to do with humans and elves. - Or, …” At this point she laughed. “… you could just ask me. No-one better than a bard to unravel the mysteries of courtship and love.”

“Or shroud them even more,” Fane commented sarcastically. But he was listening, and Lohse, appreciating the opportunity to shift her focus away from Saheila and Sebille, who sat cross-legged facing each other, did her best to inform Fane on the subtleties of love between those who still had flesh on their bones and a beating heart. She was not sure, whether her elaborate tales satisfied the scholar at all or whether he was only trying to be polite – something that Lohse and Ifan had recommended he should try from time to time whenever he felt that blunt honesty and a display of superior knowledge could be mistaken for arrogance by those of inferior intellect. It had made living with Fane so much easier, especially since practice seemed to be giving him the knack of it. She ended with the only just beginning tale of Sebille and Ifan, telling him about the almost-kiss in Effie’s Emporium that Ifan had not been able to keep a secret, when she had prodded him the next day about why Sebille was acting so weird – staring into nothingness for minutes on end before bustling about aimlessly.

“I assume, they did not yet take the time to talk this through,” she analysed the current situation.

“Or find it,” Fane concluded. He was right, they had been rather busy emptying the landscape of Reaper’s Coast of basically who- or whatever crossed their pass and did not get out of the way in time.

“So what you are saying is, that while they are both aware that they care for the other they are unable to act on it because the convention of romantic love amongst the living has it that they need to drift apart before they can finally admit their feelings? Tell me, with your experience as a bard, are your tales and songs build upon the analysation of tangible examples, or have they become the reality so that lovers cannot move outside their borders?” He had taken up his notebook again, pen at the ready, and seemed so excited at the prospect of learning something new, that it pained Lohse to admit that she had not yet thought about the connection of love and lore in such a philosophical way.

“I will, though,” she promised, taking a mental note.

It was only when they fell silent that they noticed that the conversation among the elves had increased in volume – single words and sometimes even bits and pieces of sentences floating over to where they were sitting. The discussion, though not yet heated, had apparently grown in intensity. Lohse frowned, Fane turned his head, both struggling to decipher what was going on. Saheila was still maintaining close contact with Sebille, while Sebille was clearly trying to regain her personal space: the seers face looking intent, Sebille’s defiant turning towards angry.

“I… was forced to,” they heard Sebille counter a charge by the blind seer, whose hand now rested on Sebille’s scarred cheek. Saheila answered, talking about fear and faults, concluding that “If all elves die, the fault is yours!”

Lohse wanted to protest, to run over, pull Sebille away, and to scream at Saheila to mind her own business. But that was probably what the seer was doing: Minding the elves’ business. So she remained seated, though on the ready. She felt more then saw Fane getting up on his heels next to her and she fervently wished that Ifan would return, with his greater knowledge about elvish history, to explain to them what was going on.

Sebille had stopped struggling. Instead she looked compelled into Saheila’s murky white eyes, her own self no longer present but lost somewhere far away. She kept talking, though, and Lohse and Fane kept listening closely, no longer keeping up appearance.

“… death and domination…” Sebille told the seer and her mother. “I hated…, fled from her!”

“We demand… heart!”Saheila implored.

At that, Sebille was finally able to pull away. She removed Saheila’s hand from her face and struggled to her feet. Her next words, shaking, but decisive, carried all the way to Lohse and Fane.

“The Mother, the Master… We’ll see. It is not a decision for today.”

She had already made some halting steps towards her friends, when Tovah started to assist Saheila in her plea. By now, Lohse had gotten to her feet as well, Fane at her side. They reached Sebille when the elf turned around one more time. Since their own movement had made them miss Tovah’s words, Sebille’s poisenous answer did not make much sense to them.

“To be the heart, or to be heartless, is that it? I wouldn’t count your chickens just yet...”

And that was when Sebille’s own anger finally failed to keep her on her feet. Under her touch, Lohse felt the last of her friend’s strength and resolve drain away, felt her stumble, faint, and sink to the ground. She caught her just in time, sinking on her knees with her, softly securing Sebille’s head before lowering her into the grass. She realised how Ifan must have been feeling before, when concern and anger made her want to leash out at the elves. At Saheila’s and Tovah’s concerned questions, she just glared at them with black, darkly ringed eyes, stopping them immediately from coming any closer.

“We will take it from here!” Fane told them icily, ignoring their protest.

Fane and Lohse did not have to speak with each other to agree on their course of action. They bedded Sebille in her bedroll, Lohse spread hers next to her, Fane seating himself on the other side of her. He quickly checked her for injuries, only mumbling to himself how she had managed to run so far with a sprained ankle. When he was satisfied that nothing was severely wrong, Lohse lay down as well, drawing close to Sebille and wrapping an arm protectively around her waist.

“We’ve got you!” she mumbled reassuringly, weariness finally overwhelming her too. Her last thought went out to Ifan. “Come back, chief! We need you here!”

[fourteen--steps]

Thank you so much @headbuttingunicorn​ :D :D :D

I’m not 100% sure where my little guys originally came from but odds are good it was a feeder tank. The LFS if I’m being optimistic but probably like Petsmart. I rescued them from a bowl after about a week and a half dying in the lobby of my apartment building, they were definitely pretty sorry looking then :/

For the last year and a half or so the three survivors lived in this 50 g

Which technically could have sustained them for most of their lives (I think even by bare minimum standards a 65 would probably be necessary eventually for three fish), but it has weird dimensions (15x36x20″) and honestly?? They were just outgrowing it. They’re over 6 inches now at just a little over two years old. But I’ll talk about their care in here anyway because that’s where they’ve done most of their growing and living the majority of their life.

LOTS of filtration. I've had two Aquaclear 70s on this tank the whole time it’s been up, and for the last 4 months or so, a SunSun HW-304B canister as well. The AC’s are 300 gph (gallons per hour) each, and the SunSun is hOLY SHIT 525 gph oh my god how have I not noticed that.

(Weird story with that one??? I thought I ordered the 265 gph model, found I’d accidentally ordered the 370 gph model, and when the box arrived they had sent me this one which is oh my gooooodddddd 525 wat)

So I had around 600 (and then 1100 whooopps that’s maybe a little too much) total turnover per hour, or about 12x the volume of the tank. With goldfish I always recommend at least 10x, minimum. It really makes such a difference. Even if your water tests come up clear on water change day, the quicker you’re getting the ammonia and nitrite processed out of the water, the less stress the fish’s systems are under in the long run.

They're not expensive either! The Aquaclears are about $45 each online, and the canister is similar. Although sunsun being an Asian company their prices fluctuate a bit. 

I have a shit ton of pothos on my tank too, for nitrate munching purposes since my water comes out of the tap already at 10-20 ppm. I.... think it’s going to eat me someday o_O this is it with like four feet of trimming at least. 

And even with all that, water changes! I’ll admit I wasn’t always solid on my w/c schedule, my health is iffy at best and running on a 10 day schedule happened fairly often, although I DO NOT recommend that. To make up for it, I almost always do 60-90% changes. Contrary to popular belief, large water changes are not harmful to your fish or your cycle as long as you match the pH and temperature of the fresh water going in. I refill in chunks over the course of an hour or so to avoid shocking them, they pout during the process but as soon as I restart the filters they’re back to normal.

I recently, and I mean recently, as in last week, upgraded to a FRICKIN’ ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY GALLON TANK??? OMFUCKINGFUCK LOOK

I LOVE IT SO MUCH AND SO DO THEY :D 

Holy shit I’ve been fighting with the manufacturers over this thing for wEEKS IT’S FINALLY HERE. 72″x24″x20″ which is such a good shape for goldfish, much better than the standard 150 which is taller and thinner. Ahhh they’re so happy they just go nyoooooom nyooom from one end to the other, and I can add more friends!! Right now I have Remy, Lilac, Ludi, and little Ametrine in there. Plus Sumi in quarantine, but she’s really sick all of a sudden which is why this post took longer than I meant it too, sorry :( I don’t know what happened she just dropsied out of nowhere the other night. She was due to join the others in a week or two, but if she pulls through she’s getting an extended QT now to be sure she’s really healthy

And a skinny lil blind dude I picked up not long ago who may or may not live by himself depending on if I think he can hold his own with the others or not? He’s a spunky cutie but Very Tiny.

Anyway the tank is kind of a mess cause I just chucked every piece of spare decor I have in there to give them something to do, but I have some nice driftwood and just bought a ton of anubias and I’m gonna try actual planted this time!!!

Food food yum yum :) Variety is the spice of life. This pic is from a while ago, I’ve added more to this now probably

I use the Omega One and Thera A as daily staples, rotated with smatterings of the other pellets, as well as Repashy Soilent Green and some of my own homemade gel foods. I really wanna try Northfin pellets too, or AAP Paradigm when I get around to it. I do veggies a few times a week, I’ll buy a bunch of stuff fresh and then blanch and freeze it in baggies to feed over the next couple months. Zucchini, peas, bok choy, cauliflower, kale, spinach, collard greens, broccoli, watercress, etc etc. I usually have four or five at any given time. The frozen proteins I do once every week or two. I’m super allergic to bloodworms so those are a special treat I only feed with gloves :P but they get mysis or brine shrimp usually. 

It looks intimidating, but it’s not that difficult. I acquired this stuff bit by bit over the course of a year so you don’t have to go spend a ton of money at once. If I ever just happen to see something that looks fairly good quality for an okay price I’ll grab a small container to try out. Some I end up liking, some I don’t, but even the mediocre stuff I sometimes use as a junk treat, or as snail food. Like I wouldn’t use any of the foods here besides the Repashy, Omega One, Northfin, or NLS as staples. The Aqueon is okay-ish if you have no other option, but the Cobalt is too high in protein for daily feeding, and Hikari has gone so downhill in the last few years. I honestly wouldn’t even buy it, I just feel obligated to use up the bag I already have. Pick maybe two of those staple foods to keep on hand, rotate in veggies a few times a week, some frozen protein here and there and you’re set, don’t absolutely need anything else. Of course more is always better, if you can. 

And yes, sigh, dumb as bricks aren’t they? Picky too sometimes. Try a bunch of different vegetables, leafy greens are a good place to start, or zucchini. Boil them soft (you can just chuck it in a glass of conditioned water in the microwave for 2-5 minutes) and cut it into little bite sized pieces. If they don’t go for it right away, keep trying for a couple of days in a row. Eventually they’ll get hungry and warm up to it. Keep your plec occupied with something of his own to eat and feed the goldies at the other end of the tank to try and get them all a bit of something green to eat. 

Veggies high in carotenes are really good for enhancing color. So besides your obvious ones like carrot and sweet potato, that’s also going to be your dark leafy greens! If you can get your lil guys onto stuff like collard, spinach, chard, etc, that’ll definitely make a difference in their coloration :)

Gel foods are also a really good option for picky eaters. I’ve never heard of a goldfish that doesn’t like gel, seriously, they adore that shit. You can get premade mixes like Repashy, which you just mix up with some hot water and set in the fridge or freezer. Or you can make your own! Here’s some recipe ideas, or just google “goldfish gel food,” you can scale them waaaaay down if you want. I make pretty small batches that last a long time. And feel free to swap out ingredients too and experiment, or make up your own completely. Just stick to lean, low mercury seafood, and produce without too much sugar and you can mix and match as you please. The one in my freezer right now is mostly watercress and bok choy, a couple spoonfuls of NLS, some cloves of fresh garlic, spirulina, a few baby carrots, a bunch of gross string algae I scooped out of the snail tank, and a dash of paprika. The kids adore it.

Uhhhh let’s see, anything else? I treat with prazi once a year or so, preventative maintenance, like deworming your dog. Besides that I keep medicating to a minimum unless it’s really dire. Minor scrapes and bumps I leave be. Have pretty hard high pH water, usually around 8-8.2. No heater or chiller but the water temp stays low-mid 70s most of the time

I dunno, just plenty of love and attention! I redecorate their tank and make them little toys (try some sturdy nontoxic plastic beads threaded on fishing line, especially if you can find somewhere to wedge food in, enjoy the ensuing adorable) talk to them, draw on the glass...

I love them!!! So much!!!! I owe them my life many times over, that’s not an exaggeration at all. Seeing them in their new tank has really reminded me of how far they’ve come and how much they mean to me. I’m not always a perfect owner and there are times I fall down on their care, but they’re still fat and happy and I’m always trying to do better

[ocuk-dnd-5e-blog]

Side Session - Family Values

Participants 

Dave – DM

 Dan – Darvin – Sorcerer

Andrew – Eriden – Druid

Alex D – Fyvel – Fighter

John – Dwon Fai – Monk

 Missing

 Alex H – Chance – Bard

Stu – Hendel – Barbarian

Dave R – Galath – Ranger

  Darvin, Dwon, Eriden and Fyvel arrived in Neverwinter and with evening setting considered their actions.

“It’s probably too late to get to the temple and fetch Freya.” Darvin groused. “We’ll have to get an inn for the evening.

“Well if we’re at a loose end I will go spend some time with the family.” Eriden said. “With Hendel not being here, let’s be honest I wouldn’t trust him round my family, you are more than welcome to join my family for a meal.”

The group readily accepted the offer of a meal and set off with Eriden toward his home. He directed them over the bridges, past the looming, oppressive Castle Never and round through the Bluelake District to the slowly rebuilding and renovating area around the old docks.

As they walked the streets Fyvel seemed more alert than normal and turned to Eriden. “Have you had any trouble with the Lightfoots in this area? They were pretty notorious back in the days after the eruption and I know they’re restoring the area but still…” Fyvel glanced around in the growing darkness, hand resting on one of his crossbows.

“In the early days when I was sailing out of Neverwinter the crew of the Solemn Echo we had a few run ins with the Lightfoots as the old docks were being restored and they were trying to keep hold of their territory. I think I hinted when we had some chat around the campfire that I may have had some jail time, well it was because of these incidents in the Driftwood Tavern that I ended up locked up for a short while. Eventually they backed off after Atrista, the ships steward, had a word with them so they may have worked out some kind of deal I don’t know about. Either that or she threatened them with her magic, that woman even scared me at times. They haven’t bothered my personally much since then, even when I stopped sailing with the Solemn Echo though they have never had much of a reputation for bothering their own kin unless absolutely necessary.” Fyvel was nodding along but still keeping a wary eye on the dark alleys they were passing as Eriden chuckled to himself. “As you say things have improved over time in this area but back in the day when we were first together Fyria used to have a few of them bothering her wood working business back in the day but she used to scream at them in Infernal which set them running with the fear of the Gods in them, it’s a good job they didn’t know she was a pacifist.”

"Your wife knows infernal?” Fyvel asked quizzically.

“You’ll see.” Eriden replied with an enigmatic smile.

The group arrived at a house, a wooden creation with stone foundations, the wood itself elaborately carved and painted gaily, some may say luridly, which set it apart from its dull neighbors. A small waist high gate set in an equally as tall dry stone wall led into a well tended, bountiful garden which for the twenty foot to the door the group felt although they were treading through a lush, vibrant forest as opposed to a relatively modest sized city garden. On either side of a bright yellow door, human size the group noted, hung a pair of lanterns carved as trees which illuminated, Sylvan script carved into the very door itself. The message read simply “The Grove”

“This is a… remarkable home you have built Eriden.” Darvin commented glancing round the garden.

“Thank you, the area was mostly ruined so we had a lot more space a lot less scrutiny when building it than we normally would have so we took advantage.”

“You’ve done a great job.” Fyvel said admiringly.

With a sharp knock Eriden entered and the group followed into a small hallway which was as elaborately carved and gaily decorated homage to nature as it was outside; distant sounds of children playing could be heard from the upstairs and at Eriden’s shouted greeting a woman emerged from one of the doors to the left.

The group were somewhat shocked by the sight of young looking Tiefling woman standing before them. She was almost twice the height of Eriden though still shorter than the rest of the group, she had snowy pale skin and her features are what someone cruel (DM Note; like Hendel) may describe as bizarre. She had shoulder length mauve hair, strikingly luminescent green eyes and from just above her ears, curving backward were two thin, dark horns. Eriden stepped forward and briefly embraced his wife. “This is Fyria… and somewhere around here are my little angels Yulaia and Rhea.”

She was a striking sight and Darvin was the first to recover, he stepped forward and fished in his pocket offering her the Jade Frog the group salvaged many weeks earlier he introduced himself.

"Hello, I am Darvin Sha, unfortunately we have heard almost nothing about you from Eriden thus far so it is a true pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. Pleased to meet you.”

“Hello I’m Dwon, nice to meet you. Word of warning about the jade frog, a poison dragon may have breathed and died near it. I wouldn’t keep it anywhere near the food, I’m actually amazed it survived the encounter.”

Darvin shot him a look and the two burst into a whispered argument. “It was well away from the poison!”

“You literally offered it to the dragons face about two seconds before it melted the bear, why is it even back on your person?”

“Because it didn’t breathe at me, it breathed at the bear then Galath. I’m not poisoned because I was nearby!”

“Yeah, well, still it was on the ground, it breathed poison, it died near it. I wouldn’t have it in the house.” Dwon turned back to Fyria. “I’m sorry Miss Flyvel I don’t mean to scare you but these dragon folk are a bit… odd.”

Eriden turned to Dwon. “Uh, Dwon? What did you just call her?”

“Miss Fyria, surely you are used to my accent by now.”

Eriden let this slide as Fyria stepped forward accepted the offered gift from Darvin. “Thank you for the gift, it’s a pleasure to meet the people who have provided us with such great tales of adventure when Eriden visits.” Her voice was sing song and melodic which was somewhat incongruous with her appearance. “I think the statue will fit perfectly on Eriden’s shrine to Goddess Mielikki.”

“It will.” Eriden agreed smiling up at her. “Sorry for not warning you that we were coming to visit, we had a bit of a detour on the way back to Phandalin to pick up an additional person.”

Darvin smiled at the couple. “This is a lovely home you have, it is beautiful and the attention to detail.” Darvin ran his hand over a wooden vase carved to look like an owl. “I can’t tell you some of the places we have had to rest recently. Your company as well, it is a distinct improvement from some of our travelling companions.”

“Charming.” Dwon replied.

Darvin looked around. “Oh I forgot Hendel isn’t here, I don’t need to generalize my insults to him now.” Everyone laughed easily at this.

“Come, come.” Fyria invited the group and disappeared into the room off to the left she had first emerged from. As the group followed her in she was pulling an apron on over her simple robes and she gestured round a large dining chamber come kitchen with a large cook pot putting forth delicious smells over in the far corner away from a large table that could easily sit a dozen. It looked although it could have been carved from a single piece of wood, its luster and quality clear to behold. “You must all be famished from the travelling, would you care for something to eat? I have some pork stew cooking right now.”

At that moment the group heard the stomping of hyperactive feet coming from the upper floor, descending the staircase and the door to the dining area burst open as two Tiefling children burst into the chamber in an explosion of noise and energy.

Eriden pointed at the taller of the two girls who stopped in front of the group, she was not much over two feet in height, not too much shorter than Eriden, with pale blue skin, long messy black hair with washed out pale green eyes and a single horn stump on the left of her forehead. “This is Yulaia and this.” Eriden continued gesturing at the other child who was shorter than her sister with the same pale white skin of her mother, short white hair tied in a bun with similar bright green eyes of her mother, two horn stumps poking out her hair on the top of her head and poking out from below her dress could be seen a small, forked tail. “Is Rhea, the second of my twins.”

Rhea stared boldly across at Dwon. “It’s the one that falls!” She loudly declared and Eriden looked at her with a surprised expression.

"Shh Darling.” He hushed her. “Don’t say that.”

Darvin knelt in front of the children and muttered a couple of phrases and suddenly a load of magical, coloured sparks danced forth from his palms and sparkled in the air.

Dwon, for his part, stepped forward and tripped on the falling in an exaggerated and dramatic fashion landing on the floor in a heap in front of the two children who burst into laughter and applause. “How could you tell.” He said, standing and mock dusting himself down. “That I’m the one that falls just from looking at me?” He asked confidingly and the children laughed with glee as Eriden and Fyria looked on smiling at the antics.

“I guess you weren’t expecting such a big house for a such small guy.” Eriden said with an easy smile gesturing the group to be sat at the table. “Well, as I said, the area was mostly ruined and this was one of the few surviving structures in the area. It used to be one of the warehouses for the Solemn Echoes goods but Captain Y’denvor sold it to me for a cheap price when I left the crew, a pension of sorts I suppose you could call it, so myself and Fyria decided to turn it into a house. With Fyria being such a skilled woodcarver and my own abilities with nature, I like to think we have done a pretty good job.”

As Eriden was talking Darvin had kept up his magic show, crouched down on the floor before the girls. “Magic!” Yulaia shrieked excitedly and pointed at Rhea who excitedly motions with her hands and mutters a phrase in a guttural voice that was easy to identify as demonic. A wave of energy leapt from her hands and slapped into the floor before Darvin causing him to jump backward and his small light show to flicker out of existence.

“Rhea!” Fyria shouted. “How many times do we have to tell you, no magic in the house!”

“Sorry mum.” The girl replied, then giggling she turned to Dwon and gestured and a magical hand shaped like a demons claw scooped up Dwon and deposited him back on his feet.

“Woah, nice spell!” Dwon said loudly with a mock wideness to his eyes. “You make a better mage hand than Darvin!”

“I’m sure.” Eriden said, ushering Dwon into a seat. “I tend to indulge them a little much on the magical front.” Then muttering under his breath he adds. “Much to Fyria’s annoyance.” Then back at normal voice level he continues. “I also may have entertained them on my visits with a more… refined, version of our travels and I must have let slip, no pun intended, your penchant for falling over at the wrong moment.”

Dwon smiled back. “No need to apologise Eriden.”

Fyvel having had a few sips of ale that Fyria had placed in front of the group eventually spoke up. “Good evening madam, it is a pleasure to make meet you and your fine children.”

The two children turned to look at Fyvel and he stood, ensuring his weapons were well tucked away, and waved his hands in the air then suddenly he was holding two candies which he offers to them.

Yulaia and Rhea rushed straight over to Fyvel like a pair of manic pups grabbing, verging on snatching, the candies from his hands and snaffling them as quickly as they could.

Eriden smiled. “You will be popular handing those out… wait a moment, how long have you been carrying around sweets.”

“Yes, I don’t remember you offering us any sweets Fyvel.” Darvin added.

Fyvel smiled down at the two children and offered them another two candies which they grabbed again, as quickly as they could. “I have nephews and nieces. I always have some sweets somewhere. None for you though Eriden, you will spoil your meal.” Fyria laughed at this.

Rhea had turned away from Fyvel now the candies had disappeared and look at Darvin, she jumped and punched air dramatically. “One day I’m going to be a powerful warlock, the Seeker told me.” She looked quizzically at Darvin. “Where does your magic come from?”

“I am a sorcerer little one, I was born with magic running through my veins. My magic comes from dragons.” Darvin pulled up his sleeve and showed her some brass coloured scaling which covered his wrist. “So how did you come by your magic?”

“Umm… I got my magic from a voice… I was asleep…” Rhea tried explaining but she looked to be struggling so Eriden cut in.

"She had a dream about travelling to the astral plain where she met with some gods, we have no idea who, and somehow she ended up entering a pact with one of the gods despite only being five years of age. It was only in a dream but it turned out to be real, we aren’t completely sure who she is bound to but it appears to be a seeker of knowledge of some sort. He, or it I guess, often refers to himself as ‘The Seeker’ or ‘The High One’ but unfortunately we don’t know who it could be.”

"That is… unusual.” Darvin said looking at Eriden with some concern that he hid from Rhea. “From my knowledge pacts are rarely one sided, I hope this being does not intend her harm as concepts like good and evil have an entirely different meaning to beings like those. Still.” Darvin said turning back to Rhea and upping the volume. “It is fun being able to use magic isn’t it?” Darvin said and gestured and suddenly an illusory chocolate cake appeared in his hand which Rhea gaped at.

“Well we know it isn’t any of the fey deities as she has never shown any aptitude for some of the nature based spell craft that Eriden has. We know it isn’t Mielikki or Eldath who are our own gods…” Fyria said. “The being doesn’t appear to hold any ill intent…. Or hasn’t shown any sign of it.”

“As I say they hold entirely different concepts of good, bad and what amounts to the right treatment of someone. Are you concerned?”

“A little.” Fyria turns away and stirs the stew, Eriden picked up the conversation. “We’ll look into it when we can, there just never seems to be the time or the place to do it.”

“You know we will help.” Darvin offered, squeezing Eriden’s shoulder who smiled in return.

“Thank you.”

Trying to lighten the suddenly dour mood which, thankfully, the children had not picked up on, Fyria turned to Fyvel and examined his attire. “Judging from the missing bow, you must be Fyvel? Eriden has told me that you live somewhere in the city as don’t you?”

Fyvel bowed from the waist. “I am indeed, my father is Manny Artrada of the shipping form Artrada Enterprise.”

“Oh yes, I think I have seen the shipping barrels and crates at the docks that are marked with the Artrada crest when I go to collect driftwood for my ornament crafting, though I have never met someone from the family before.”

“My father lives over in the Protectors Enclave and rarely sets foot out in much of the city.” Fyvel looked a little embarrassed. “He is a good man but something of a snob if I am honest.”

During this exchange Yulaia had been running circles round Fyvel trying to work out where the candy came from when Fyvel produced another which he flipped up into the air and the girl caught it deftly. “Yulaia don’t bother the poor man and kids, don’t eat too much candy you will spoil your meal.”

Fyvel offered his apologies being the guilty party in this. “Don’t apologise.” Fyria assured him.

She looked over at Eriden. “Don’t you have more people in your group? Galath and the dwarf.. Hendel?”

“We split into two groups dear, Galath and Hendel had to escort someone to the safety of Phandalin ahead of us. Is dinner almost ready?”

“Soon dearest.”

“I guess I should pray before dinner. Excuse me.” Eriden said to the group and walked over to a shrine dedicated to Mielikki and knelt before it falling into a state of meditation.

After a short while during which the group chatted of inconsequentialities with Fyria and the kids Eriden finished his meditation and came over, looking refreshed and tousling the hair of Rhea who pulled a sour face at him in return. Rhea had been examining the illusion Darvin had created of the cake in his palm the whole time and suddenly muttered to herself and a second cake appeared on top of the other and two girls clapped and squealed with glee, Darvin for his part looked equally impressed and worried.

“Sis doesn’t do magic like me.” Rhea declared with the seriousness only a five year imparting a great secret can. “She’s very good at hiding though, the best, she always win’s at hide and seek.”

“I’m quite good at hiding.” Darvin offered clicking his fingers the cakes disappeared, the girls gasped and he clicked again and he himself disappeared and the girls shrieked in glee.

“He’s creepy.” Dwon muttered to Fyvel then jumped as a voice whispered in his ear. “You wish you were this good at stealth.”

A “ta-da” sound echoed round the room and Darvin suddenly appeared behind the girls making them jump and run laps round the room laughing and shouting about how amazing Darvin was. Rhea eventually stopped and looked at Darvin. “Did you turn into a small bug?”

“No, I can turn myself, or anyone I touch, completely invisible!”

“Wow I wonder if I can do that one day… I could beat my sis then…”

“No you couldn’t!” Yulaia yelled and the two girls fell to arguing with one another.

As the girls argued Fyria dished up some food into bowls as Eriden placed them before his guests, the pair then guided the still arguing girls into their seats.

“What would everyone like to drink?” Fyria asked.

“BERRY MILKSHAKE” The girls yelled as one and Eriden smiled.

"Ok, ok.” He acceded. “I’ll make some, just don’t think you can fill up on milkshakes and sweets and not eat your stew.”

“We won’t daddy.” The girls echoed as sweet as could be and Eriden rolled his eyes.

As Fyria turned to their guests Fyvel forestalled her question by producing a bottle of wine from his backpack. “I do like to be prepared, this is one from my father’s vineyards that I… acquired, please help yourselves.”

“That’s very kind of you to share.” Fyria took the bottle and poured some for all.

Eriden laughed. “First sweets, now wine, what else do you have hidden about your person?”

The group chatted about nothing in particular as they enjoyed the meal, the wine and good company until eventually Dwon asked. “So how did the two of you meet?”

“We’ve known each other for about… twelve years now, we first met when I came into port with the Solemn Echo. While the rest of the crew would immediately head to the nearest tavern I would always stop at the docks for an hour or so to create a tribute for my mother out of wood and flowers.” Eriden smiled at the distant memory. “After a few times of seeing each other round the docks, well, we got talking over time and the rest as they say, is history.” Eriden reached over and squeezed Fyria’s hand.

“We first met face to face when curiosity got the better of me and I had to ask why he always made those little wooden idles. It was so incongruous with what you would expect from a sailor coming into port in Neverwinter. Then we got to talking about woodcraft as I run a shop where I craft and sell oddities made from driftwood, that led to us spending more and more time together until eventually we spent each and every day together whenever Eriden was in port. I suppose it may be fate that we ended up together with our gods being as close to each other as we are as well.” Fyria showed them a bracelet which a picture of a waterfall engraved on it. “Before coming to Neverwinter I was training to become a cleric in Luskan but there was more capacity for training here in Neverwinter but ultimately it never suited me and well, luckily it didn’t or I may well never have met Eriden or have my two beautiful children.” The two girls groaned as they were kissed by their mother.

The rest of the evening was spent in a pleasant haze of good wine and good company as the groups bonds were forged stronger than before.

  Later the evening before the group had left to stay at the newly christened Dragon Head Inn, renamed Dwon showed them, thanks to the now rotting skull of Venomfang which had been mounted above the door thanks to the tenacity of Hendel dragging it cross to country to where it now rested. On seeing Dwon and recognising him as a companion of Hendel the group had managed to gain free lodgings so Hendel’s idiocy had not been in complete vain.

They met up early morning in front of the Temple of Selune and Eriden joined them.

“Are you ready to get going again Eriden? It must be hard leaving such a beautiful family behind.” Fyvel offered.

“It is, but I know they are safe now Neverwinter itself is calmer and Fyria, despite her seemingly modest nature knows how to look after the family. No, I know it is the right thing.”

The sun was rising up behind the temple painting it in dappled reds and greys, the jewels picking out Selune’s eyes catching the display and refracting it across the square in front of the building in a beautiful display for the early rising group. Before they reached the steps Dwon grabbed Darvin’s arm and pulled him up short.

"I don’t remember you mentioning you had bloody dragon scales.” Dwon said.

“I have some on my arms and neck, I thought you would have noticed.”

"Hardly or we wouldn’t have been so fucking shocked when we found out about dragon ancestry would we?”

“Well I don’t have them on my head but I thought you would be at least a little observant.”

"Hendel is going to freak out when I tell him this.”

“Hendel will be almost certain you are a dragon now.” Eriden said with a grin.

“Hopefully we’ll meet a dragonborn at some point so Hendel can see the actual difference between the two. I mean he will have to wise up at some point, surely.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it.” Both Eriden and Fyvel said at the same moment.

“He will.” Dwon said almost bouncing. “And when he does it will be glorious.”

“You seem inordinately excited about this Dwon.”

“Well you know.”

“Let’s just not tell him.”

“Oh come on!”

“Dwon, let’s just leave it.” Fyvel cut in.

“Bloody spoil sports.” Dwon mumbled under his breath at the group ascended the steps and, eventually, entered the temple and we’re greeted by the acolyte of over a week before but she was now decked out in serviceable chain mail and tabard emblazoned with Selune’s heraldry and at her belt hung a dangerous looking flail. Her face was as thin and pretty as the group remembered with her blonde hair tied up severely atop her head to keep it from her eyes, her face looked determined if a little sadness crinkling at the corners of her eyes.

“Freya?” Darvin asked.

“No.” The priestess shot back looking genuinely aggrieved. “My name is Jenna and who would you be?”

“Darvin… Darvin Sha, we met over a week ago when Father Fay indicated that you would be being ordained as a full priestess of Selune…” Darvin drifted into silence at the stern look from the woman, apparently called Jenna, who was glaring at him.

Before she could answer laughter boomed from a side corridor and another priest emerged. He was a lot younger than Fay and carried himself with a martial bearing, slightly under six foot well muscled and armored in a fashion similar to Jenna his features were patrician and at his belt hung a solid looking warhammer on a leather hoop. The figure walked over to Jenna and slapped and a gauntleted hand on her pauldron with a clang causing her to flinch.

“Old Fay always gets the two of them mixed up doesn’t he Freya?”

She thumped him on the breastplate with a backhand causing him to laugh once again. “My sister.” She said, addressing Darvin once again. “Is Freya, I am Jenna, we are twins if you had not noticed by the resemblance. We have not had the… pleasure…” There was a large dose of irony labeled onto the word. “Of meeting as of yet Master Sha but it is I who will be accompanying you to Phandalin, not my sister.” On that note she turned to the other armored priest at her side. “Where is my sister?”

“Probably with Eldrath…” Once again a gauntlet thumped into him and he stumbled backward laughing. Recovering he walked away from the clearly fuming Jenna and offered a hand to Darvin. “Owain mab Urien, pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine.” Darvin replied.

“I am another of Fay’s charges though I have been ordained for a few year now and I service the needs of those more remote corners of the Northern Sword Coast. I would normally have accompanied you to Phandalin but you know how it is, we need to give the pups a try at some point.” He backed away a step from the glare of Jenna raising his hands in supplication. “I jest dearest Jenna.” He turned back to Darvin. “We have known each other over two year now and I cannot help but wind her up, I remember her as an innocent, fresh faced initiate…” Owain subside at another growl from Jenna.

“Consider yourself lucky it is I, and not Owain, who will be coming to Phandalin with you. He is feckless and useless and…”

“Now, now.” Boomed a familiar voice and from another chamber emerged Father Fay flanked on one side by Freya, whose difference from her sister was noticeable if not immediately obvious and on another by a towering figure in plate mail, a huge greatsword strapped across his back and his sharp Elven features we’re had a stern, haughty cast to them as he ran his eyes over the band of adventurers before him. “I would think that two of my children can get on without me being in attendance at all times?” Fay continued with mock severity looking at Jenna and Owain.

“Nothing more so than usual.” Owain replied a jovial hitch in his voice.

With a smile Fay turned back to the adventurers. “Welcome back to my temple Master Sha, and companions, Jenna is ready as promised.”

“You actually told us we would be accompanied by Freya, Father.”

“No, no, I’m sure I wouldn’t say such a thing. I never get my two favorite twins mixed up.”

Freya and Jenna looked at each other behind Fay’s back and rolled their eyes. “Not at all Father.” They chorused.

“I see you have met Owain, he is one of my… itinerants who supports the north. This here.” And he reached up to lay a hand on the pauldron of the huge warrior. “Is Eldrath Selune, a templar of Selune, rare I will grant you, from Evermeet who has been supporting in the area with all the trouble that seems to come my way day after day.”

“Greetings.” Eldrath offered, his voice was a strange combination of melodic tones but dropped with the precise inflection of a hammer hitting an anvil. “I trust you will look after Jenna.”

Jenna turned to Eldrath, her face reddening. “I do not need looked after Eldrath, I have told you before…”

“Stop!” Fay boomed and Jenna fell silent, turning to Darvin he shrugged his shoulder. “I have looked after this gathering of initiates, now priests, for over a half decade now and I think I am too indulgent by half.”

Darvin merely smiled in return.

“Jenna, be off and say your goodbyes to your sister, you will hardly be worlds away from one another. Owain, leave the damn woman alone and be about your business and Eldrath we will discuss what we were earlier, later.”

The group dispersed leaving Fay with the four adventurers. “Apologies for that, they are competent, way beyond competent but they have mostly grown up together and I forgive them a lot. They forget their propriety when together at times.”

“Do not worry about that.” Darvin assured the man. “You are lucky to have such a cohort at your disposal.”

“That I am and don’t you worry about Jenna. Her sister might have her head in the books to often but Jenna is practical and she can wield that Flail of hers with alarming skill. She won’t suffer any fools and will make sure that Phandalin is well protected. Sildar will owe me a favour for this and make sure you tell him that.”

“Of course.”

“Now, come break your fast before you leave and let’s see if you have any interesting tales you can tell me to keep me amused.”

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Dwon quipped.

  An hour later the group were on the road in a cart piled high with supplies with Darvin, Fyvel and Jenna riding up front with Dwon sleeping in the cart itself and Eriden twining twigs and flowers into some form of design only he knew what.

“Apologies for the confusion earlier.” Darvin offered to Jenna with a smile.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s happened for years, my sister and I are not quite identical but near enough that it’s easy to mistake us for one another. When we were kids you used to play off this fact so I cannot complain about it now.” Jenna smiled at a memory from the past.

“Well there is a somewhat obvious difference now.” Fyvel said nodding at her armor and the flail which was still near to hand.

A sad look flitted across Jenna’s face. “You are right Fyvel, but myself and Freya… we’ve never been apart our whole life. Children together, initiates together, acolytes together… but not priestesses together.”

“Why has Freya… not yet been ordained when you have?”

“She’s flighty, lazy at times, head in the clouds…” Jenna smiled at this. “She is more intelligent than me, she has a better grasp of the mystical arts but she flits from one concern to another and can lack the focus needed.”

“Will she ever succeed?” Darvin asked and Jenna flared up in return.

“Of course she will, she is my sister.” Jenna sighed. “I’m not sure what it will take to be honest but she has the ability if she decides to apply herself.”

The group fell into a silence for a short while as the cart trundled forward until Fyvel spoke up again. “Father Fay mentioned you have known Owain for a long time?”

“Owain has always been a couple of years ahead of myself and Freya but yes, we have known each for over half a decade now. We were initiates together for a short while, then acolytes together… he is almost a brother to us. Fay has been great, the father myself, Freya and Owain all did not have and he has helped us develop as people and improve our skills. We are almost like a small family.”

“Fay mentioned he is itinerant?”

“That is Fay being flippant as ever, Owain is based in the Temple in Neverwinter but he acts as the eyes and ears that Fay himself cannot be since he tied himself to the Temple and to our training.”

“Just eyes and ears? That warhammer at his belt look well used.”

“He is handy enough but primarily he is a cleric, if you are looking for a fist that would be Eldrath.”

“The elf?”

"Yes, he is a templar of Selune and they are extremely rare in our temple. We are not pacifists by any measure but we do not actively go seeking out combat. Eldrath does.”

“Why?”

Jenna looked momentarily uncomfortable. “I don’t think it is right for me to share has background, that is his story to tell if he should choose to do so, he is somewhat tight lipped when he chooses to be about his past. Suffice to say he had a… tragedy in his past and he is intent on rectifying this wrong.”

“He looks formidable though.”

“He is… I’m not sure if I would use the word pleasure but I have seen him in combat and it is certainly a sight to behold Fyvel. I thought I was handy with this.” Jenna slapped the flail which was laid on the bench next to her. “But watching Eldrath wield that Greatsword of his… he can cut things in two with little trouble if the mood takes him.”

“Sounds like someone useful to have around.”

“Well that is why Fay had sent to Evermeet for assistance and Eldrath arrived; we have seen him come and go into the Temple for years especially around the time of the troubles but he never stays for long. This time he has been around for almost six month with all the upheaval that has been troubling Neverwinter once again.”

“You’re not the first person to mention that there has been trouble brewing in Neverwinter.” Darvin said.

Jenna snorted. “Troublemakers bothering Neverember and wanting back to the past and the Alagondar line. Nothing too extreme at the moment but troubles throughout the city, stirrings in Neverdeath cemetery and the castle. Fay worries a return to the trouble times and wants to be prepared and even circumvent it coming about if he can.”

“Can he?” Fyvel asked, interested.

“Who knows, Fay is a canny operator and Eldrath is a good warrior to have at your back. Myself, Freya and Owain will assist as we can.” Jenna shrugged. “I would imagine if anyone can stop this Fay can but events sometimes have a habit of getting away from you.”

Darvin and Fyvel looked at one another and smiled at this.

“So Eldrath is the grim fist behind the jovial Fay then?”

“Oh no, he is…” Darvin looked, did he see a blush? “He can be… remarkably charismatic when Selune is out of his mind and killing is not required.”

“Which means?”

“None of your business.” Jenna said curtly and turned away. Darvin raised his eyebrows at Fyvel who shrugged.

  Half the day later as the group were still heading south on the Trade Road a caravan was approaching toward their own cart. As the two groups grew nearer the caravan pulled off to one side of the road, it was surrounded by a group of surly looking figures in grey cloaks but they did have the air of dangerous competence which surrounded them.

Fyvel slowed the cart and hailed what looked like a lead figure of the group who had a sword at his hip as opposed to the rest who were holding spears at suspiciously alert angles.

“Hail traveler.” Fyvel shouted. “How is the road ahead.”

“That is your business traveler.” The figure shouted back, a grim look on his face. “So I suggest you move on and go and find out.”

The figures looked edgy and alert and did not take their eyes off Fyvel and his companions. At that moment Dwon poked his head out the rear of the caravan. “Why are we slowing down?” He shouted and seeing the group he smiled. “They look happy.”

“Move on now.” The lead figure said laying a hand on his sword hilt.

“Ok, ok.” Fyvel said, raising a hand in a placating manner. “You travel safely.” Fyvel offered ironically.

“Fuck off.” The figure replied simply.

As the group trundled away from the caravan every look back showed the caravan to still be sat stationary and the group of warriors surrounding it following their movements as they got further away.

“What the hell was that about?” Darvin asked, blowing out his cheeks.

“Fuck knows.”

Jenna merely looked pensive at the turn of events.

  After another full day and half of travelling the small group eventually pulled in to Phandalin, Jenna looked round and the village which had made some progress on repairs and looked slightly underwhelmed at the size of the place.

“Not quite what you expected?” Fyvel asked with a smile.

“It’s a little on the small side.” Jenna replied.

“That’s what all the ladies say.” Dwon added with a smile and a wink at Jenna he jumped off the cart and walked off toward the inn, shouting back over his shoulder. “I’m going to hazard a guess that we’ll find Hendel in the inn.”

Jenna looked quizzically at Darvin and Fyvel. “Another of our companions.” Both Fyvel and Darvin also jumped down. “Will you be ok heading over to the town hall, you will probably find Sildar there and we can catch up with you there later when we gather up the rest of our companions.”

“Of course.” Jenna replied. “Thank you for your help in getting me here, I assume we will see each other again soon.”

“Of course, we have been coming and going from Phandalin for a while now and I imagine we will be doing so for a while longer yet. We will make sure to pay a visit.”

Jenna looked like she was going to say more but instead smiled at the pair and waved them goodbye.

“I guess we should go find Hendel?” Darvin said to Fyvel and Eriden, who had jumped from the back of the cart as it had been setting off.

“Well I guess the peace couldn’t last forever.” Eriden said with a smile.

  (DM Note; this was a, thoroughly enjoyable, text based side session ran between four of the group to fill out some blanks when the party split at the end of Cragmaw Castle. There was some character progression needed and some foreshadowing/event moving needed so this filled out some blanks in a very enjoyable manner.)