#I love you so much Parsee

[amamozarte]

the charactert thingwith Parsee

Sexuality Headcanon: ACE LESBIAN🔥🔥 gaysokyo eternal and she’s very much in gay with yuugi

Gender Headcanon: transfem she/her 👍 I feel she just has transgirl swag

A ship I have with said character: paruyuugi❤️❤️ I love paruyuugi so Fuckinh much they’re my little squimplos…

A BROTP I have with said character: this is going to sound so so so so sooooo insane but V Devil May cry and Parsee. I can’t explain this in words so you’re just going to have to let me sew our brains together so you can experience every thought and emotion I’ve ever experienced 👍

A NOTP I have with said character: I’ve yet to see a parship that upsets me so I guess n/a.

A random headcanon: Parsee self sabotages relationships like crazy. The only reason she and yuugi are still together is because yuugi is very persistently pursuing her. It’s really difficult for Parsee to keep friendships stable because she always believes others have ill intent when approaching her.

General Opinion over said character: I’m obsessed with her

[spear-gsun]

I love how both Yuuma and Chiyari have very clearly pointed and long ears in ZUN's art in Touhou 19 (especially Chiyari, like dang look at those)

I think theyre the first characters to very clearly have pointed elf-like ears in ZUN's art and i think thats cool

You may be saying what about Parsee or Nue, but i think its harder to tell if those were intentional or not? Correct me if i missed something, but i think SA was the first game where ZUN actually drew human ears on some of the characters instead of just hiding them behind hair, with Parsee being the first to have them And if you look at art of other characters from around SA to TD, pretty much everyone has those kinda weirdly shaped, vaguely pointy looking ears (realizing i have way more to say after seeing that SA was the first game where he drew ears on the characters so uh sorry lol) At first i thought Parsee having pointy ears wasnt something intentional but just something that got picked up by fans and then made its way into official art (and i get it cause pointy ears are cool looking) but with Parsee specifically being THE first character that ZUN bothered to draw ears for, im starting to wonder if it mightve been intentional, like, he imagined her with a sort of elf-like appearance, realized he had to draw ears for that, and then just continued doing it for some of the other characters (sort of like how i think ZUN ended up changing the very pale yellow he usually used for skintones until touhou 17 and onwards where it changed but thats for another post im already rambling so much) much to think about.

but anyways Unfinished Dream of All Living Ghost has some of ZUN's best art i think everyone looks great

[kozachenko]

Some thoughts on some of the newest CDS chapters below the read more tag for spoiler's sake, since I have read the newest one and have some thoughts

As flawed as Cheating Detective Satori is, one thing I will give it is how it shows the reactions of the spirits and Youkai living in Former Hell to the whole "sealing it up" thing. While I was initially annoyed about the whole "sealing former Hell" thing, I feel like the newer chapters have kinda made the whole thing make more sense, especially in the newest one where Parsee mentions how in the case of a vengeful spirit making too much trouble, Former Hell is just gonna seal right back up and become Hell again, which is a system that has been around since Former Hell was established. I think what this little addition does well is that in retrospect it makes the whole decision of sealing up Former Hell make a bit more sense. Also, the mystery that the latest chapter left off with (Parsee's realization that Former Hell must have been sealed from the outside) is really interesting, and had that bit of realization not been included by Parsee, it probably would've been a major plot hole that Parsee's tunnel also got plugged up when the whole system was made years ago when Former Hell was first established. Also, would Parsee know who Mizuchi is? Or have at least heard of her? Or is Mizuchi kind of treated like an SCP in Former Hell and is kept a secret from everyone else, even though in the earliest chapters of CDS, Satori mentions that Mizuchi has been a bit of a problem before, and Yuugi also knows her sooooo is this a writing mistake or intentional? Although there are a lot of vengeful spirits in Former Hell so knowing who each and every single one is is probably giving the denizens of Former Hell a bit too much credit lol. But still, Mizuchi seems to maybe be a more well known vengeful spirit so I'm still a bit confused on that, or maybe it could just be as simple as Parsee having never met Mizuchi when counseling vengeful spirits.

Maybe certain people aren't allowed to even see Mizuchi since they could be prime targets for her to possess people and escape. Which could also be related to the reason why she escaped in the first place, maybe she possessed someone with a grudge against Reimu or anyone in the Hakurei bloodline and used them to get out of Former Hell?

Also, when you think about that and the fact that Zanmu is the one who proposed the move, it gave me the headcanon that Zanmu also put that system in place since she wouldn't just leave it carelessly unattended. Since it's in her character to think ahead and meticulously plan things, why wouldn't she put this safety measure in place?

Utsuho and Koishi were also really good in this chapter, and Utsuho's title is so fucking good, I love it. Koishi also trying to get the other vengeful spirits to chill out is also a fun detail. Her point about the vengeful spirits not even being allowed to leave regardless is also something interesting to think about. Though it is explained in the manga that the vengeful spirits just needed a reason to attack, the idea of someone getting mad about the loss of a freedom that they would normally never use is very interesting to me.

When the manga is finished I'm most likely gonna do a full review on it, since my last one had way too much swearing and I was also really tired and wanted to sleep and I am just overall not happy with it. Plus, the manga seems like it's starting to get better, and with ZUN himself saying that he's aware of the criticism towards CDS, I'm gonna stay optimistic with this manga. Also, it would be really interesting to see how the people in New Hell react to the restoration of Former Hell, especially Zanmu due to how important she is in the actual creation of Former Hell, although a small part of me thinks that she would just go, "not my Hell, not my problem" and leave it at that, the other part of me thinks that would maybe be a little out of character for her. Like, I don't think she'd be panicking, but at the same time she's not gonna treat it like a non-issue. Though that could just be me since I like Zanmu a lot lol.

All in all, just a lot to think about with this new chapter.

[rosegoldscarlet]

God this is long, oops.

Okay, I've sat down in front of my computer now. So, I think there are a lot of people here who remember when I first joined. Oh, hold on.

Ah, that's much better. It's nice to go back to an old face. Anyway I'm Sev, and let me tell you about how I started RP, how it's impacted me, and why I'm still writing Sakuya.

I first got into the RP scene because of my now long-time best friend @cruentusscarlet (Now her name is Neo). At the time, we had only just met a few months earlier. When we first met, I was super new to Touhou. Eventually, I found out about Tumblr RP from her and started spectating her blogs.

The two blogs that caught my eye the most were her Remilia Scarlet and Parsee Mizuhashi blogs. Eventually, I got motivated to try RP too. I hadn't roleplayed anything since I was a kid, so it was relatively new ground for me. I think I should count myself lucky that I had her blessing because she was so well known in the THRPC at the time, so it definitely made it easier to slide in.

My first RP blog ever was one for Sakuya Izayoi @clock-corpse created on July 10, 2019. I was 21 years old at the time and completely obsessed with her and Remilia.

Other RP blogs I've ran in the past include Yukari, Reimu, Aunn, Futo, Mai/Satono, Yuuka, Saki, Murasa, Ruby Rose, and Edelgard Von Hresvelg.

Now, I going to be honest with you people. I look back at my Sakuya years and kind of wince a little. It was very obvious that I was just gaining my sea legs in this hobby to the point where it was a little awkward.

The way I presented myself was basically a grump. I was super edgy, liked to write about blood and gore, make crude violent jokes, and was kind of a hard ass... Okay maybe some or all of those things are still true to an extent, but it still made me cringe.

That's not to say that I didn't enjoy those years though. No, I loved my time RPing as Sakuya because of the people I got to meet. I made some friends, made a few people angry, and got to witness a bunch of events both pre-planned and sudden surrounding the community and the people in it.

My personal life was in a weird and depressing era back when I first started RPing Sakuya, but looking back on it, it makes me happy to see how much I and other people have grown since then. Not just as creatives, but also as people. I've made some really good friends just from joining this community and participating in a silly little hobby. I think that sentiment is why I always end up coming back (and I can never fucking LEAVE.)

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I wouldn't still be here if it weren't for the good times I had with y'all. As corny as that sounds, it's true. You know we're doing good when we get excited to check our dashboards. I know you do, I hear it sometimes.

And speaking of checking dashboards, you're more than likely going to keep seeing Sakuya from me on it. Well, at least on this blog. Okay let's get this out of the way.

"Sev, why did you abandon your Sakuya blog only to keep writing her on this new one?"

Okay, going back to what I said about me being cringe when I was 21 years old? Yeaaaah, I wasn't happy with how I wrote Sakuya on that blog. By the time I was 24-25 years old, I wanted to change the way I wrote her but it wouldn't have been right to just do it so suddenly and retcon everything. I already had years of character built into her and I know a lot of people liked her so I held off on doing it.

So what was my solution? While creating the Remilia blog, I decided to slap Sakuya onto it as a side muse so I could have my chance to write her with my new vision. Basically, the Sakuya on this blog is a different Sakuya from my original one. I just wanted a clean slate to start over, and impulsively making a Remilia blog gave me the chance to do it.

Well, I think I've covered just about everything. I know this became more of a reflection rather than an origin story but, I just got sentimental while looking back. I hope this blurb wasn't too embarrassing or boring to read but if it was then uh, that sucks.

See you later, bitches.

[mountainofhistory]

If your muses had pokemon types, what would they be?

So this one was a bit of a doozy. Lots of muses after all. I'm still not wholly satisfied with all the type combinations - feel free to comment if you think any don't quite line up.

Youmu: Steel/Ghost - Steel is obvious, as is Ghost. It's worth noting that I wanted to put Normal in here somewhere as well, but I just couldn't justify removing either of the other two. Why Normal? Because to me, Normal in Gensokyo suggests a human connection, and Youmu is human, at least in part.

Keine: Normal (EX Keine: Normal/Fighting) - It's hard to assign any type other than normal to Keine. None of the other ones fit. However, in EX Keine form, I think it's pretty fair to give her Fighting.

Reisen: Psychic/Fairy - Who says Fairy type is only restricted to yousei? Psychic is, again, obvious. Mental manipulation, playing with wavelengths, etc. Fairy is, aside from literal fairies, something playful, legendary - if you ask me, a moon rabbit kind of fits.

Eiki: Defined by Plate - Okay, I'll confess. This one's kind of a cop-out. I just couldn't think of a type that would fit Eiki. But the plate system used by Arceus allows us a way out, I think. Especially since Arceus' signature move is Judgement, a move whose type depends on the held Plate. Pretty nice for Eiki I think.

Shizuha: Grass/Poison - Ah, the type combination that is just all over the damn place. As a nature spirit, her connection to the Grass type is obvious. And as a goddess of decay, her connection to Poison equally so. Nothing special here.

Momiji: Steel - pure, unblemished steel. Nothing else really makes sense. Though she'll get access to some Dark moves with Bite and Crunch.

Sanae: Normal/Flying - Normal is, again, because she's at least part human. As for Flying, she's a wind priestess - it'd be odd if her typing didn't show her connection to Wind, wouldn't it?

Parsee: Dark/Poison - Parsee is a dirty fighter. Dark is the type you want for dirty fighters - or just hellish connected people in general, but here we want the dirty fighting connection. Poison is because jealousy often acts like a poison, killing a person emotionally from the inside.

Satori: Psychic - Psychic, but probably not very useful as far as a Pokemon goes. It would be cool if she was weak, but having her out would let you know what move your opponent has selected. Yeah.

Orin: Fire/Dark - why Dark? This time it's the other side of the Dark type we want, the hellish connection. I shouldn't have to explain the fire.

Nue: Dark - Dark is easily the type that best fits Nue in my opinion. She's all about the fighting style that Dark implies and brings up. However, if Pokemon had a mechanic that would allow her to have a random second type, I would opt for that. Something that changes every time you throw her out.

Futo: Fire/Water - Look, I can't ignore Futo's affinity for Fire. As much as I worry people focus on it too much when thinking about her, the fact is it's there. The water is, of course, because she also uses water element attacks. She uses Earth and Wood as well, of course, but there's only so much we can fit in.

Kagerou: Dark - Gonna be honest. I'm not pleased with this one. I mostly just chose it because Dark is where you find your biting and crunching attacks.

Momoyo: Poison/Fighting - Poison, easy. Momoyo is highly, highly venomous. Fighting, just as easy. There's nothing she loves more than a good, fair scrap. Even if the stakes she really likes are higher than most people are willing to accept (reasonably so!)

Now, for the semi-OCs:

Udeki: Dark/Fighting - Fighting for much the same reasons as Momoyo above. Dark, however, because unlike Momoyo, Udeki is perfectly fine with pulling dirty tricks. She's not about to lie to someone, but she also isn't going to 'fight with honor' when she can do something crude and below the belt to win. Unless, that is, she's facing another oni. She still has enough pride for that.

Narikon: Fire/Fairy - kitsune, like moon rabbits, are 'close enough' to fae that I think you can justify them being in the fairy type. Fire is for similar reasons - her use of foxfire to mimick a Master Spark is one of her defining attacks in battle.

And lastly, the actual OC:

Kuromatsu: Steel - Just like her boss, Steel is the type that most makes sense for Kuromatsu. Bound heavily to her weapon, it's what characterizes her in a fight more than anything else. She might be less inclined than Momiji to learn biting moves, though.

[aroundtheworldwithphillyfogg]

October 24th, 1872: meet Aouda

The project was a bold one, full of difficulty, perhaps impracticable. Mr. Fogg was going to risk life, or at least liberty, and therefore the success of his tour. But he did not hesitate, and he found in Sir Francis Cromarty an enthusiastic ally.

As for Passepartout, he was ready for anything that might be proposed. His master’s idea charmed him; he perceived a heart, a soul, under that icy exterior. He began to love Phileas Fogg.

There remained the guide: what course would he adopt? Would he not take part with the Indians? In default of his assistance, it was necessary to be assured of his neutrality.

Sir Francis frankly put the question to him.

“Officers,” replied the guide, “I am a Parsee, and this woman is a Parsee. Command me as you will.”

“Excellent!” said Mr. Fogg.

“However,” resumed the guide, “it is certain, not only that we shall risk our lives, but horrible tortures, if we are taken.”

“That is foreseen,” replied Mr. Fogg. “I think we must wait till night before acting.”

“I think so,” said the guide.

The worthy Indian then gave some account of the victim, who, he said, was a celebrated beauty of the Parsee race, and the daughter of a wealthy Bombay merchant. She had received a thoroughly English education in that city, and, from her manners and intelligence, would be thought an European. Her name was Aouda. Left an orphan, she was married against her will to the old rajah of Bundelcund; and, knowing the fate that awaited her, she escaped, was retaken, and devoted by the rajah’s relatives, who had an interest in her death, to the sacrifice from which it seemed she could not escape.

The Parsee’s narrative only confirmed Mr. Fogg and his companions in their generous design. It was decided that the guide should direct the elephant towards the pagoda of Pillaji, which he accordingly approached as quickly as possible. They halted, half an hour afterwards, in a copse, some five hundred feet from the pagoda, where they were well concealed; but they could hear the groans and cries of the fakirs distinctly.

They then discussed the means of getting at the victim. The guide was familiar with the pagoda of Pillaji, in which, as he declared, the young woman was imprisoned. Could they enter any of its doors while the whole party of Indians was plunged in a drunken sleep, or was it safer to attempt to make a hole in the walls? This could only be determined at the moment and the place themselves; but it was certain that the abduction must be made that night, and not when, at break of day, the victim was led to her funeral pyre. Then no human intervention could save her.

As soon as night fell, about six o’clock, they decided to make a reconnaissance around the pagoda. The cries of the fakirs were just ceasing; the Indians were in the act of plunging themselves into the drunkenness caused by liquid opium mingled with hemp, and it might be possible to slip between them to the temple itself.

The Parsee, leading the others, noiselessly crept through the wood, and in ten minutes they found themselves on the banks of a small stream, whence, by the light of the rosin torches, they perceived a pyre of wood, on the top of which lay the embalmed body of the rajah, which was to be burned with his wife. The pagoda, whose minarets loomed above the trees in the deepening dusk, stood a hundred steps away.

“Come!” whispered the guide.

He slipped more cautiously than ever through the brush, followed by his companions; the silence around was only broken by the low murmuring of the wind among the branches.

Soon the Parsee stopped on the borders of the glade, which was lit up by the torches. The ground was covered by groups of the Indians, motionless in their drunken sleep; it seemed a battlefield strewn with the dead. Men, women, and children lay together.

In the background, among the trees, the pagoda of Pillaji loomed distinctly. Much to the guide’s disappointment, the guards of the rajah, lighted by torches, were watching at the doors and marching to and fro with naked sabres; probably the priests, too, were watching within.

The Parsee, now convinced that it was impossible to force an entrance to the temple, advanced no farther, but led his companions back again. Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis Cromarty also saw that nothing could be attempted in that direction. They stopped, and engaged in a whispered colloquy.

“It is only eight now,” said the brigadier, “and these guards may also go to sleep.”

“It is not impossible,” returned the Parsee.

They lay down at the foot of a tree, and waited.

The time seemed long; the guide ever and anon left them to take an observation on the edge of the wood, but the guards watched steadily by the glare of the torches, and a dim light crept through the windows of the pagoda.

They waited till midnight; but no change took place among the guards, and it became apparent that their yielding to sleep could not be counted on. The other plan must be carried out; an opening in the walls of the pagoda must be made. It remained to ascertain whether the priests were watching by the side of their victim as assiduously as were the soldiers at the door.

After a last consultation, the guide announced that he was ready for the attempt, and advanced, followed by the others. They took a roundabout way, so as to get at the pagoda on the rear. They reached the walls about half-past twelve, without having met anyone; here there was no guard, nor were there either windows or doors.

The night was dark. The moon, on the wane, scarcely left the horizon, and was covered with heavy clouds; the height of the trees deepened the darkness.

It was not enough to reach the walls; an opening in them must be accomplished, and to attain this purpose the party only had their pocket-knives. Happily the temple walls were built of brick and wood, which could be penetrated with little difficulty; after one brick had been taken out, the rest would yield easily.

They set noiselessly to work, and the Parsee on one side and Passepartout on the other began to loosen the bricks so as to make an aperture two feet wide. They were getting on rapidly, when suddenly a cry was heard in the interior of the temple, followed almost instantly by other cries replying from the outside. Passepartout and the guide stopped. Had they been heard? Was the alarm being given? Common prudence urged them to retire, and they did so, followed by Phileas Fogg and Sir Francis. They again hid themselves in the wood, and waited till the disturbance, whatever it might be, ceased, holding themselves ready to resume their attempt without delay. But, awkwardly enough, the guards now appeared at the rear of the temple, and there installed themselves, in readiness to prevent a surprise.

It would be difficult to describe the disappointment of the party, thus interrupted in their work. They could not now reach the victim; how, then, could they save her? Sir Francis shook his fists, Passepartout was beside himself, and the guide gnashed his teeth with rage. The tranquil Fogg waited, without betraying any emotion.

“We have nothing to do but to go away,” whispered Sir Francis.

“Nothing but to go away,” echoed the guide.

“Stop,” said Fogg. “I am only due at Allahabad tomorrow before noon.”

“But what can you hope to do?” asked Sir Francis. “In a few hours it will be daylight, and—”

“The chance which now seems lost may present itself at the last moment.”

Sir Francis would have liked to read Phileas Fogg’s eyes. What was this cool Englishman thinking of? Was he planning to make a rush for the young woman at the very moment of the sacrifice, and boldly snatch her from her executioners?

This would be utter folly, and it was hard to admit that Fogg was such a fool. Sir Francis consented, however, to remain to the end of this terrible drama. The guide led them to the rear of the glade, where they were able to observe the sleeping groups.

Meanwhile Passepartout, who had perched himself on the lower branches of a tree, was resolving an idea which had at first struck him like a flash, and which was now firmly lodged in his brain.

He had commenced by saying to himself, “What folly!” and then he repeated, “Why not, after all? It’s a chance,—perhaps the only one; and with such sots!” Thinking thus, he slipped, with the suppleness of a serpent, to the lowest branches, the ends of which bent almost to the ground.

The hours passed, and the lighter shades now announced the approach of day, though it was not yet light. This was the moment. The slumbering multitude became animated, the tambourines sounded, songs and cries arose; the hour of the sacrifice had come. The doors of the pagoda swung open, and a bright light escaped from its interior, in the midst of which Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis espied the victim. She seemed, having shaken off the stupor of intoxication, to be striving to escape from her executioner. Sir Francis’s heart throbbed; and, convulsively seizing Mr. Fogg’s hand, found in it an open knife. Just at this moment the crowd began to move. The young woman had again fallen into a stupor caused by the fumes of hemp, and passed among the fakirs, who escorted her with their wild, religious cries.

Phileas Fogg and his companions, mingling in the rear ranks of the crowd, followed; and in two minutes they reached the banks of the stream, and stopped fifty paces from the pyre, upon which still lay the rajah’s corpse. In the semi-obscurity they saw the victim, quite senseless, stretched out beside her husband’s body. Then a torch was brought, and the wood, heavily soaked with oil, instantly took fire.

At this moment Sir Francis and the guide seized Phileas Fogg, who, in an instant of mad generosity, was about to rush upon the pyre. But he had quickly pushed them aside, when the whole scene suddenly changed. A cry of terror arose. The whole multitude prostrated themselves, terror-stricken, on the ground.

The old rajah was not dead, then, since he rose of a sudden, like a spectre, took up his wife in his arms, and descended from the pyre in the midst of the clouds of smoke, which only heightened his ghostly appearance.

Fakirs and soldiers and priests, seized with instant terror, lay there, with their faces on the ground, not daring to lift their eyes and behold such a prodigy.

The inanimate victim was borne along by the vigorous arms which supported her, and which she did not seem in the least to burden. Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis stood erect, the Parsee bowed his head, and Passepartout was, no doubt, scarcely less stupefied.

The resuscitated rajah approached Sir Francis and Mr. Fogg, and, in an abrupt tone, said, “Let us be off!”

It was Passepartout himself, who had slipped upon the pyre in the midst of the smoke and, profiting by the still overhanging darkness, had delivered the young woman from death! It was Passepartout who, playing his part with a happy audacity, had passed through the crowd amid the general terror.

A moment after all four of the party had disappeared in the woods, and the elephant was bearing them away at a rapid pace. But the cries and noise, and a ball which whizzed through Phileas Fogg’s hat, apprised them that the trick had been discovered.

The old rajah’s body, indeed, now appeared upon the burning pyre; and the priests, recovered from their terror, perceived that an abduction had taken place. They hastened into the forest, followed by the soldiers, who fired a volley after the fugitives; but the latter rapidly increased the distance between them, and ere long found themselves beyond the reach of the bullets and arrows.

The rash exploit had been accomplished; and for an hour Passepartout laughed gaily at his success. Sir Francis pressed the worthy fellow’s hand, and his master said, “Well done!” which, from him, was high commendation; to which Passepartout replied that all the credit of the affair belonged to Mr. Fogg. As for him, he had only been struck with a “queer” idea; and he laughed to think that for a few moments he, Passepartout, the ex-gymnast, ex-sergeant fireman, had been the spouse of a charming woman, a venerable, embalmed rajah! As for the young Indian woman, she had been unconscious throughout of what was passing, and now, wrapped up in a travelling-blanket, was reposing in one of the howdahs.

The elephant, thanks to the skilful guidance of the Parsee, was advancing rapidly through the still darksome forest, and, an hour after leaving the pagoda, had crossed a vast plain. They made a halt at seven o’clock, the young woman being still in a state of complete prostration. The guide made her drink a little brandy and water, but the drowsiness which stupefied her could not yet be shaken off. Sir Francis, who was familiar with the effects of the intoxication produced by the fumes of hemp, reassured his companions on her account. But he was more disturbed at the prospect of her future fate. He told Phileas Fogg that, should Aouda remain in India, she would inevitably fall again into the hands of her executioners. These fanatics were scattered throughout the county, and would, despite the English police, recover their victim at Madras, Bombay, or Calcutta. She would only be safe by quitting India for ever.

Phileas Fogg replied that he would reflect upon the matter.

The station at Allahabad was reached about ten o’clock, and, the interrupted line of railway being resumed, would enable them to reach Calcutta in less than twenty-four hours. Phileas Fogg would thus be able to arrive in time to take the steamer which left Calcutta the next day, October 25th, at noon, for Hong Kong.

The young woman was placed in one of the waiting-rooms of the station, whilst Passepartout was charged with purchasing for her various articles of toilet, a dress, shawl, and some furs; for which his master gave him unlimited credit. Passepartout started off forthwith, and found himself in the streets of Allahabad, that is, the City of God, one of the most venerated in India, being built at the junction of the two sacred rivers, Ganges and Jumna, the waters of which attract pilgrims from every part of the peninsula. The Ganges, according to the legends of the Ramayana, rises in heaven, whence, owing to Brahma’s agency, it descends to the earth.

Passepartout made it a point, as he made his purchases, to take a good look at the city. It was formerly defended by a noble fort, which has since become a state prison; its commerce has dwindled away, and Passepartout in vain looked about him for such a bazaar as he used to frequent in Regent Street. At last he came upon an elderly, crusty Jew, who sold second-hand articles, and from whom he purchased a dress of Scotch stuff, a large mantle, and a fine otter-skin pelisse, for which he did not hesitate to pay seventy-five pounds. He then returned triumphantly to the station.

The influence to which the priests of Pillaji had subjected Aouda began gradually to yield, and she became more herself, so that her fine eyes resumed all their soft Indian expression.

When the poet-king, Ucaf Uddaul, celebrates the charms of the queen of Ahmehnagara, he speaks thus:

“Her shining tresses, divided in two parts, encircle the harmonious contour of her white and delicate cheeks, brilliant in their glow and freshness. Her ebony brows have the form and charm of the bow of Kama, the god of love, and beneath her long silken lashes the purest reflections and a celestial light swim, as in the sacred lakes of Himalaya, in the black pupils of her great clear eyes. Her teeth, fine, equal, and white, glitter between her smiling lips like dewdrops in a passion-flower’s half-enveloped breast. Her delicately formed ears, her vermilion hands, her little feet, curved and tender as the lotus-bud, glitter with the brilliancy of the loveliest pearls of Ceylon, the most dazzling diamonds of Golconda. Her narrow and supple waist, which a hand may clasp around, sets forth the outline of her rounded figure and the beauty of her bosom, where youth in its flower displays the wealth of its treasures; and beneath the silken folds of her tunic she seems to have been modelled in pure silver by the godlike hand of Vicvarcarma, the immortal sculptor.”

It is enough to say, without applying this poetical rhapsody to Aouda, that she was a charming woman, in all the European acceptation of the phrase. She spoke English with great purity, and the guide had not exaggerated in saying that the young Parsee had been transformed by her bringing up.

The train was about to start from Allahabad, and Mr. Fogg proceeded to pay the guide the price agreed upon for his service, and not a farthing more; which astonished Passepartout, who remembered all that his master owed to the guide’s devotion. He had, indeed, risked his life in the adventure at Pillaji, and, if he should be caught afterwards by the Indians, he would with difficulty escape their vengeance. Kiouni, also, must be disposed of. What should be done with the elephant, which had been so dearly purchased? Phileas Fogg had already determined this question.

“Parsee,” said he to the guide, “you have been serviceable and devoted. I have paid for your service, but not for your devotion. Would you like to have this elephant? He is yours.”

The guide’s eyes glistened.

“Your honour is giving me a fortune!” cried he.

“Take him, guide,” returned Mr. Fogg, “and I shall still be your debtor.”

“Good!” exclaimed Passepartout. “Take him, friend. Kiouni is a brave and faithful beast.” And, going up to the elephant, he gave him several lumps of sugar, saying, “Here, Kiouni, here, here.”

The elephant grunted out his satisfaction, and, clasping Passepartout around the waist with his trunk, lifted him as high as his head. Passepartout, not in the least alarmed, caressed the animal, which replaced him gently on the ground.

Soon after, Phileas Fogg, Sir Francis Cromarty, and Passepartout, installed in a carriage with Aouda, who had the best seat, were whirling at full speed towards Benares. It was a run of eighty miles, and was accomplished in two hours. During the journey, the young woman fully recovered her senses. What was her astonishment to find herself in this carriage, on the railway, dressed in European habiliments, and with travellers who were quite strangers to her! Her companions first set about fully reviving her with a little liquor, and then Sir Francis narrated to her what had passed, dwelling upon the courage with which Phileas Fogg had not hesitated to risk his life to save her, and recounting the happy sequel of the venture, the result of Passepartout’s rash idea. Mr. Fogg said nothing; while Passepartout, abashed, kept repeating that “it wasn’t worth telling.”

Aouda pathetically thanked her deliverers, rather with tears than words; her fine eyes interpreted her gratitude better than her lips. Then, as her thoughts strayed back to the scene of the sacrifice, and recalled the dangers which still menaced her, she shuddered with terror.

Phileas Fogg understood what was passing in Aouda’s mind, and offered, in order to reassure her, to escort her to Hong Kong, where she might remain safely until the affair was hushed up—an offer which she eagerly and gratefully accepted. She had, it seems, a Parsee relation, who was one of the principal merchants of Hong Kong, which is wholly an English city, though on an island on the Chinese coast.

At half-past twelve the train stopped at Benares. The Brahmin legends assert that this city is built on the site of the ancient Casi, which, like Mahomet’s tomb, was once suspended between heaven and earth; though the Benares of to-day, which the Orientalists call the Athens of India, stands quite unpoetically on the solid earth, Passepartout caught glimpses of its brick houses and clay huts, giving an aspect of desolation to the place, as the train entered it.

Benares was Sir Francis Cromarty’s destination, the troops he was rejoining being encamped some miles northward of the city. He bade adieu to Phileas Fogg, wishing him all success, and expressing the hope that he would come that way again in a less original but more profitable fashion. Mr. Fogg lightly pressed him by the hand. The parting of Aouda, who did not forget what she owed to Sir Francis, betrayed more warmth; and, as for Passepartout, he received a hearty shake of the hand from the gallant general.

The railway, on leaving Benares, passed for a while along the valley of the Ganges. Through the windows of their carriage the travellers had glimpses of the diversified landscape of Behar, with its mountains clothed in verdure, its fields of barley, wheat, and corn, its jungles peopled with green alligators, its neat villages, and its still thickly-leaved forests. Elephants were bathing in the waters of the sacred river, and groups of Indians, despite the advanced season and chilly air, were performing solemnly their pious ablutions. These were fervent Brahmins, the bitterest foes of Buddhism, their deities being Vishnu, the solar god, Shiva, the divine impersonation of natural forces, and Brahma, the supreme ruler of priests and legislators. What would these divinities think of India, anglicised as it is to-day, with steamers whistling and scudding along the Ganges, frightening the gulls which float upon its surface, the turtles swarming along its banks, and the faithful dwelling upon its borders?

The panorama passed before their eyes like a flash, save when the steam concealed it fitfully from the view; the travellers could scarcely discern the fort of Chupenie, twenty miles south-westward from Benares, the ancient stronghold of the rajahs of Behar; or Ghazipur and its famous rose-water factories; or the tomb of Lord Cornwallis, rising on the left bank of the Ganges; the fortified town of Buxar, or Patna, a large manufacturing and trading-place, where is held the principal opium market of India; or Monghir, a more than European town, for it is as English as Manchester or Birmingham, with its iron foundries, edgetool factories, and high chimneys puffing clouds of black smoke heavenward.

Night came on; the train passed on at full speed, in the midst of the roaring of the tigers, bears, and wolves which fled before the locomotive; and the marvels of Bengal, Golconda ruined Gour, Murshedabad, the ancient capital, Burdwan, Hugly, and the French town of Chandernagor, where Passepartout would have been proud to see his country’s flag flying, were hidden from their view in the darkness.

[bluemooncove]

❦ gently places leaf

Shipping interest meme

At the very least Momoyo and Dragon General have got a friendship now. I think they could also manage a romance au if the two of them get the opportunity to bond further.

Beauty would get along well with Satori I think ... except for the issue of mind reading. So actually no. ... But perhaps she could get along with a cat girl like Dragoon (Orin possibly could too)

Necromancer is full of a mixture of envy, jealousy, and anger. Which makes her basically a beacon for Parsee.

Bee and Futo are both the main rep for Geomancers of their world so that's kind of a friendship thing.

Sentinel and Sanae have the same vibe so I could see them having a romance.

It would actually be very interesting to have Shizuha appear on the blog. She's not been introduced yet but I have a character that worships a god quite similar to the Aki sisters. Also, I think that the people of Elbeth would just in general respect Shizu a lot.

Mastema doesn't like birds so it's on sight with Hatate. Necromancer loves crows so the opposite.

Kuromatsu and Sentinel/Duskwitch/Seeker are all up and coming adventurers (Or, well, warrior in Kuro's case). So I could see the potential for a bond there.

Oni exist in this world but they're not exactly the same as what Udeki is like. Maybe she would be interested in learning their culture, which primarily centers around smithing and brewing, but I am not quite sure she'd be happy with more passive oni. Weirdly though, I think she'd get a long with Crusader.

I've not done much of an exploration of the Blue Moon Cove itself yet but I think Narikon would probably be drawn there. Given it's. You know. A bar.

[awakenedmaiden]

@afterlifetango from here

Satori's third eye twitched as Parsee's thoughts drifted to Koishi. To think someone could be envious of Koishi of all people. Then again, given envy was a core part of Parsee's identity, she supposed if anyone could feel that towards an identitiless girl it would be her.

She did not feel regret. It was a true rarity that Satori ever regretted an action. Her own position as leader of the Underground did not permit her the blessing of regret. Only the duty to keep pressing forward through every mistake and failure. It often felt as if she came to regret anything, to truly recognize fault, to crack the image of a calculated ruler, the entirety of the underground would crumble beneath her feet. Like Ubar to the sand.

Yet, even without regret, she still found herself questioning if this had been a bad idea. As much as she wanted to give Parsee a show of her devotion it was an obviously bad idea. One that would only make trouble for everybody. She had to have recognized that, she knew that she must have known that. So why did she do it? Her heart and mind did not see fit to bless her with an answer.

"You ... have a point. I suppose that your bridge is not the sort that this tradition is made for."

At some point during her failed attempts at introspection, Satori had stepped forward. Approaching Parsee one step at a time. Until she was close enough to gently take her hands in her own and return the lock to her grasp.

"You're ... right. Your shrine would be the safer place for this. As for your question."

A moment of awkward silence hung in the air before the answer came.

"Love and affection have never cared for wisdom. I don't care what you are, I don't care if it would be wise to leave if there. The only thing I care about is your comfort. Would it make you uncomfortable for me to place this there?"

[majestydeerakuma]

So like...I wanna draw some stuff

If y’all want me to draw stuff, send me in the form of an ask what you want me to draw

-Fandoms I’ll draw currently-

• Mario

• Vocaloid

• OMORI

• Cuphead

• Touhou

-

-Characters I can draw-

• Any main Mario character (pretty much any character on a Mario Party character select in any Mario Party...and Bowser and Bowser Jr :D)

• Crypton Vocaloids, Gumi, Gakupo, IA, Yukari, Mayu, SeeU, Haku, Neru, Teto (I know Haku, Neru and Teto aren’t Vocaloids but still, they are Vocaloids within my heart and I love them :D)

• CAPTAIN SPACEBOY, MY BELOVED!!!, Sweetheart, Mr. Jawsum, the main 6 characters (please specify if real world or dream world, though I prefer drawing dream world)

• Cuphead, Mugman, Ms. Chalice, Saltbaker, King Dice, The Devil

• Reimu, Marisa, Remilia, Flandre, Nitori, Suwako, Yamame, Parsee, Yuugi, Satori, Koishi, Cirno

-Note: I can do spoilers as well, I don’t mind. Spoilers will be rightfully tagged as spoilers

[lolzmazter]

💕 tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them!

Oh boy and for any one of my hyperfixations huh... HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Parsee Mizuhashi from Touhou Chireiden (Earth Spirit Palace) ~ Subterranean Animism of course

Now, you may recognize her from my last answered ask about my blorbos and scrunklys and whatnot. If you don't, here's the picture I used for her

As you can see, I very much adore my sweet little meow meow Parsee. Why? Well first, listen to her boss theme.

Have you listened to it yet? Yes? No? Doesn't matter we're continuing. As I mentioned in my previous ask-answered, the reason I love Parsee, despite her being a perpetually irrationally disproportionately jealous bridge princess, who does nothing productive with her jealousy btw, is that shit dude I can relate to that.

There are many people whose talents I deeply envy, that I wish I could emulate or borrow or share myself. And not just talents. World-views, perspectives, strengths, weaknesses, traits, virtues and vices.

I envy not those who are wealthy, but I envy those full of life even in a world that can be shitty at times. And what do I do with my envy? Do I go out and try to find a passion myself? Do I invest time and effort into building up a talent I can feel proud of? Do I put myself out there into the world with what I can do, with what I can achieve? No. I sit and stew in my own jealousy, because I am bound by obligations outside of my own control and determination. Just like a bridge princess is bound to her bridge, I am bound to my own duties, my own obligations I must take care of first before seeking to hone my talents and passions. I got college to take care of, I got getting a job to take care of, I got finding a niche to insert myself into the corporate machine to make money to make a living to fucking LIVE in this society to take care of. So shit man. Being jealous of people who can tread a path I can't at the moment? I can relate to that.

[boobiemom]

So assuming tumblr doesn’t flag this for the obvious reasons shown-

Here we have most of my OCs who makeup the primary cast of my world, funny enough named Amatsudoria! YEAH I FINALLY FOUND A USE FOR THAT WORLD!!! Anyway, here’s a rundown.

Nagisa Hayami (Any Pronouns): An ancient male oni who became more motherly over time after she found an abandoned infant human and adopted them as her son. Said son, named Ushio, follows suit and becomes a SUPER milfy cow-oni. Nagisa is a very gentle person despite being so huge. She was inspired by Synechdoche’s Oga-san, FGO Shuten Douji, and the artist Mogiki Hayami (surname is taken from them), and started as a joke idea, the infamous “Oni(i)-chan”.

Meiko-sensei (She/her): Meiko is a kitsune librarian who owns and runs a massive magical library, one so big, it’d make Patchouli Knowledge become Parsee (Wow Touhou refs). She’s amazingly adept in perception and reality altering magic. Meiko was refined into an actual character after my own Onee-sama saw her, liked her, and helped me flesh her out as my first legit OC for this whole thing.

Shirayuki-sensei (She/her): Aka Yuki, she is a magical scientist who owns a magitek and pharmaceutical company called VXN (Vixen) that was eventually absorbed into our next titular character’s company, called B♂I, aka “Boi”, a massive fashion and cosmetics industry. Yuki, however, is also known to partake in some more... “unofficial” experimentation, as she has officially transformed people into various things for fun or punishment. (She makes appearances in my commissioned stories.) Fun fact: Yuki and Meiko were once part of a band, called Megitsune, with Haru’s father, Airi, who is also a very sexy femboy M(ale)ILF type. 

And finally, Haru Katou: (He/Him): Haru is founder and CEO of “B♂I”, the company mentioned above, that deals in various things; clothing that expands with bodily changes, hair highlights and dyes that can change colour on the fly when you want them to, but most notably the invention of “Real Sensation” breast forms and body augments, which he himself wears pretty much every fucking day, as well as “size adjustable implants”. He swaps between which he wants, but often has the forms because “the faker they look, the sexier it is” in his personal opinion. Haru is a very happy, adorable, cutesy type, think like every depiction of Astolfo basically. Haru’s surname comes from Katou Jun, a doujin artist that I absolutely love, and Haru’s idea started as a cute tiddyboy shota version of myself whenever I play Pokemon Gold and Silver. “If I’m gonna be a boy, I’m gonna be the cutest, girliest, biggest tiddy boy ever”. Enter Haru-kun. Haru is also married to a Korean nail artist named Soelyoo, whom he met one day when he dropped his phone into a gutter, but his tits were too big that day and he couldn’t edit their size and Soelyoo got it for him. They started dating soon after this.~

Artists are as follows! Minila (Nagisa and Meiko’s dual outfit pics), Franktonius (Nagisa’s debut pinup), Cloneydew (Shirayuki’s debut pinup), and Sealguy (Haru’s debut pinup)!

[thotsonthebible]

Exclusivity

John 14.6

'I am the way, and the truth, and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through Me.'

Do you know why so many people hate Christianity?  They hate it because it's exclusive.

Mother Teresa, the much-admired Catholic missionary, when asked whether she 'converted', answered, 'Yes, I convert.  I convert you to be a better Hindu, or a better Muslim, or a better Protestant, or a better Catholic, or a better Parsee, or a better Sikh, or a better Buddhist.'

That sounds very nice, doesn't it?  But it's also heresy.  She might encourage you to be a better Muslim or a better Hindu, but that won't save your soul.  You'll still go to hell.  Mohammed can't save your soul.  None of the gods of the Hindu pantheon can save your soul.  Only Jesus can guarantee that you will have eternal life.  Only through Jesus can you approach the throne of the only true and living God.

'Before Me there was no God formed, and there will be none after Me.'  —Isaiah 43.10 (NASB)

When Larry King tried to buttonhole Joel Osteen, he waffled.

Osteen: 'You know, I'm very careful about saying who would and wouldn't go to heaven. I don't know ...'

King: 'If you believe you have to believe in Christ? They're wrong, aren't they?'

Osteen: 'Well, I don't know if I believe they're wrong. I believe here's what the Bible teaches and from the Christian faith this is what I believe. But I just think that only God will judge a person's heart. I spent a lot of time in India with my father. I don't know all about their religion. But I know they love God. And I don't know. I've seen their sincerity. So I don't know.'

He wasn't willing to say that only through Jesus can anyone be saved.  He balked at the idea of exclusivity.

Many prefer to believe that there is one God but many ways to approach that God.  But that's not what Jesus taught.

'Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it.  For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it.'  —Matthew 7.13-14 (NASB)

Christianity is exclusive.  There's no fudging about its demands.

'Whoever loves father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me; and he who loves son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me. And he who does not take his cross and follow after Me is not worthy of Me.'  —Matthew 10.37-38 (NASB)

Its demands are harsh.

Then Jesus said to His disciples, 'If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.'  —Matthew 16.24-25 (NASB)

And we're warned that the world will not deal kindly with those who claim Jesus as their Lord.

'If the world hates you, you know that it has hated Me before it hated you.  If you were of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, because of this the world hates you.' —John 15.18-19 (NASB)

There is no 'playing church' with Christianity.  You're either in—or you're out.

If you're in, you are a bondservant of Jesus Christ, the Messiah of Israel—a bondservant, bound to do His will.  And you will rejoice to see Him return in glory.

'For the Son of Man is going to come in the glory of His Father with His angels, and will then repay every man according to his deeds.  Truly I say to you, there are some of those who are standing here who will not taste death until they see the Son of Man coming in His kingdom.'  —Matthew 16.27-28 (NASB)

As He promised, you receive eternal life.

Then he showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming from the throne of God and of the Lamb.  —Revelation 22.1 (NASB)

'I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.  Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they may have the right to the tree of life, and may enter by the gates into the city.'  —Revelation 22.13-14 (NASB)

The Spirit and the bride say, 'Come.'  And let the one who hears say, 'Come.' And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who wishes take the water of life without cost.'  —Revelation 22.17 (NASB)

[rather-impertinent]

I’m back skimming the later Poldark books, which I will read in full one day, but for now I will continue to search the words ‘Dwight’, ‘Caroline’, ‘Ross’, ‘Demelza’, ‘Enys’ and ‘Poldark’ into the search bar and no one can stop me. Anyway pls enjoy this wee snippet of our fave foursome having dinner together, I love all the small observations between them and the quips. I miss them all a lot, thank God they live on in the books (and in fanfiction, of course) xo

The meal came to its end with nuts and grapes and raisins – and of course port. Demelza sipped her port and stretched her legs. Still lacking a little of the vitality she had had before baby Henry was conceived, she was nevertheless zestful enough for most occasions; and of all the meals of her life these were the ones she enjoyed most. (Saving the noisy family meals, which were a thing apart.) To sup at Killewarren with her oldest and dearest friends, in Ross’s company, was better even than when they came to her. There was no niggling anxiety as to whether the veal would be properly done or whether the poached peaches would be served half cold. Caroline always seemed able to employ better and more efficient servants. Demelza admitted that she was not a very good manager herself. She had never quite got into the way of being angry with servants if they didn’t do what they were told. (Ross could do it in a second; but it was not Ross’s business.) This was the luxury of enjoying an excellent meal and wines without a thought to the kitchen.

‘Please?’ she said, having not heard a question.

‘Dreaming again,’ said Caroline. ‘I was telling Ross that I might be losing Dwight sometime soon.’

‘Very unlikely,’ said Dwight. ‘Caroline is romancing.’

‘Far from it! I know from his manner.’

Dwight said: ‘What Caroline is trying to tell you in her roundabout way is that I have recently received a letter from Sir Humphry Davy. You remember him, Ross: you met him at the Duchess of Gordon’s party.’

‘Yes, of course. And since somewhere, I can’t recollect where.’

‘Sir Humphry?’ said Demelza.

‘He was knighted last year. And is recently married.’

‘To a widow,’ Ross added. ‘Does she not also have money?’

‘A considerable fortune. But I believe they are truly in love.’

‘Money doesn’t prevent that,’ said Ross.

‘No, but it can give rise to unworthy gossip . . . They were here in Cornwall in May, visiting his parents in Penzance. George Warleggan and Harriet invited them to spend a night at Cardew. We were asked to sup there.’

‘Well, I suppose Davy is now the foremost scientist in England.’

Dwight took a nut and cracked it, but did not put the kernel in his mouth.

‘When I met Davy at Cardew he told me of an invitation he had received from France. He has kept in touch with most of the leading French scientists through these latest years of the war. Scientists of note like Ampère, Guy-Lussac, Laplace. Early last year Napoleon himself heard of Davy’s discoveries and achievements, and at once offered Davy unconditional permission to visit Paris and to travel through France and anywhere else in Europe he chose. It is a notable recognition of his achievements. And I think also a notable testimony to Buonaparte’s breadth of vision that in the middle of so bitter a war he should make such an offer to a national of his bitterest enemy.’

‘And Davy? He did not accept the invitation?’

‘Not then. But it was an open invitation, and he thinks of accepting it this autumn.’

Demelza took a sip of port, but no one spoke.

Then Ross said: ‘It’s a different situation now for Napoleon. Then he was riding high, true master of Europe. Now he’s between two fires. I should ask for a further assurance if I were Davy.’

‘I don’t believe Napoleon would go back on his word.’

‘Don’t forget the end of the Treaty of Amiens,’ Caroline said. ‘Ten thousand British tourists interned as prisoners of war. Yourself and Ross escaping back across the Channel by the skin of your teeth. And me alone in this house carrying Sophie!’

‘And this letter you have had from Sir Humphry?’ said Demelza, seeing already how the land lay.

Dwight smiled. ‘He has been told he may take his wife, a couple of servants, one or two friends of like mind.’

‘Such as who?’

‘What?’

‘Such as what friends?’

‘Oh . . . a chemist, a scientist perhaps, not more than two or three. As you will have guessed by now, he has asked me if I would like to be one of them. He suggests that as a medical man I could be of value to them, travelling as they are as a small group in a foreign and hostile country.’

Ross glanced at Caroline, who was frowning with concentration at a black grape.

‘A dilemma.’

‘The letter only reached me yesterday. It is a delectable thought to be able to meet all those French scientists on their own ground. Even to see Paris again, right in the depths of the war . . . But I believe Humphry Davy intends to go on to Italy after his stay in Paris; he has some plans to visit the Auvergne and even go as far as Naples, which would mean his being away at least a year. And that would not be feasible – or tolerable – for me.’

Caroline said: ‘I wonder what the French authorities would feel about it if Sir Humphry brought with him an escaped and unransomed prisoner of war!’

‘I doubt, my dear, if they would be likely to discover it after eighteen years.’

‘Caroline has a long memory,’ said Demelza. ‘We both have! And little wonder.’

There was a tap at the door and Myners came in. ‘Dr Enys, sir. Mr Pope is sick again. A messenger has just come from Place House. It is Music Thomas, who says it is urgent, but of course . . .’

The implication was that Music Thomas was not the most reliable of informants.

Dwight said: ‘Tell Tresidder. Ask him to saddle Parsee. And tell Thomas to go back and say I am coming at once.’

‘Very good, sir.’

When they were alone Caroline said: ‘D’you know it is just about a year ago, isn’t it, that this happened before? You were supping with us, and someone came from Place House asking for Dwight. We must be careful not to allow this to become a habit.’

‘Do you see much of them – socially, I mean?’ Ross asked.

‘Our girls are too young for theirs; and I confess he rather gives me the creeps. She’s well enough – if she would only stop worrying as to whether she ought to be condescending or be condescended to.’

Dwight said: ‘I have visited him monthly since last year. They live in a social strait-jacket. And not only social. It is a queer household.’

‘Did you hear about Jeremy?’ Demelza asked. ‘Mrs Pope fell off her horse, and Jeremy found her and helped her home.’

‘When was this?’

‘Only last week. She sent him a silver stock-pin. Jeremy is quite taken with it.’

‘He might well have been taken with her too,’ said Ross. He added: ‘Do you know anything more of the mine Unwin is supposed to be opening on Mr Pope’s doorstep?’

‘I believe it is hanging fire,’ Dwight said. ‘Isn’t that so, Caroline? You heard something from Harriet Warleggan.’

Caroline yawned. ‘A story that it was to be delayed. To do with copper prices. Chenhalls of course is the moving figure. But Unwin has certainly not been down of late.’

Dwight got up, patted Ross on the shoulder, kissed Demelza on the cheek, put fingers over his wife’s long fingers. ‘Well, I suppose we must not keep the old gentleman waiting. Last time, my dear, I think you offered me a brandy before I left.’

‘What a memory,’ said Caroline.

[clarste]

Is there any Yuri in FMW? I've been interested in playing the games but I admit I'd find it off-putting since that sort of stuff unfortunately often comes off as horribly forced and even cringeworthy.

There’s no kissing or anything, but there are some relationships that are written extremely romantically. The ones that come to mind are:

A) Keine and Mokou have this whole “I want to spend the rest of my life with you” kind of conversation.

B) Kanako and Suwako have this whole “of course I knew what you’d do, how long do you think we’ve been married?” kinda deal.

C) Yukari and Yuyuko are written as this tragic romance where Yukari never forgot the day she let Yuyuko kill herself. And there’s actually a rather clever use of the “they always speak in riddles to each other” thing, imo.

That said, for better or worse it lies within the realm of “well, I guess they might just be really close friends” if you’re inclined to view it that way. Platonic life partners? I guess you could say it’s not interested in passionate love so much as the natural intimacy of people who are very comfortable with each other. Loud declarations of Love (and the Love spirit command) are reserved solely for familial love, with special emphasis on the Scarlet sisters, the Komeiji sisters, and Alice/Shinki.

Similarly, there’s really no emphasis whatsoever on the will they/won’t they aspect of relationships that fiction tends to be so fond of. Which is basically to say that you don’t have to worry about some contrived love triangle around Marisa or whatever. There’s not really any more Yuri than there is canon, imo.

Oh yeah, D) Parsee keeps trying to hit on Yuugi. I thought it was pretty funny personally.

I would also add that I’m not really someone who looks for romance in doujins either, and I didn’t mind it at all. It felt very cozy to me.

[parseemizuhashi]

/Flannibel, really, I LOVE your writing. Your Parsee is AWESOME JFNWJXBAK

Thank you so much! I’m glad you think so!

It’s actually fun to write her, SPECIALLY those moments in which she lets you know she can’t be saved all that easily or at all.

I made her existence rather miserable, but that’s the point of it all- the point is to make things frustrating for her and others and I think I’m managing to get there.

Friendship and love are definitely not going to save her from what she is like in fairy tales with happy endings.

[puppeteerofthehail]

@clock-corpse

Sometimes I come off as intimidating but I’m just, a big nerd. SO THANK YOU FOR THINKING I’M THE COOLEST POTATO...A POTATO I MAY BE FOREVER.

People love to make my muses suffer, and when I say ‘suffer’ I mean that they like to push their buttons, specially with Remi or Parsee, for whatever reason. They’re characters that can be rather aggressive and violent quickly and they’re not gonna change...so easily, anyways.

@uncorruptedchampion

Was that a reference to Reimu not recognizing Alice the first time she meets with her in PCB? Poor Alice. Either way, I’ll continue doing as I always do to write her more so you can get to meet her, ooc or ic, both are good.

I don’t know why people think I’m too busy, though! I’m usually not...unless I am, but what I want to say is that I don’t mind if people message me, another thing is if I remember to answer or, if I have the energy to do so, although I would say I’ve gotten better with the thing about talking with people ooc a little more.

It’s even funnier because I don’t draw as much as I used to, I would say I spend more time writing nowadays.

But never be nervous- I may be as nervous as everyone else when it comes to talk with people because I’m a potato.

@magicaldreaming

You’ve been following me for a really long time, Xana, so I’m glad that was the first impression you got from me, it’s actually really appreciated, specially when I remember that when I started, I was still kind of trying to get the hang of Touhou and all.

I’m even happier to know that my mix of headcanons that also keep working with canon stuff that happened was clear, I wanna make things that make sense but that always keep the essence of what the character is (otherwise I would make an OC).

You have really great headcanons too and even world building that I like hearing about, so I’m glad you also think my Alice is A+, I try my best!

@nekofantasia

There’s no in-between, you either think I’m intimidating or think I’m a nice person on the first meeting. I’m glad that you can feel the suffering, Chiru, specially because going from Spanish to English is kind of a pain.

BUT IDK WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT, YOUR ENGLISH IS ALSO REALLY GOOD? I don’t know why mine’s more delicious, I didn’t spice it up.

Either way, I’m glad you think I’m talented when, yet again, I’m just a damn talking potato. May Chen come to Alice sometime soon, there were also cats in Alice in Wonderland, after all!