#I’m thinking history books he sometimes pulls out some high level knowledge

[gargoyleofhumankindness]

Jack says they stole his books

Jack had books?

What does jack read?

[fanfictionaries]

Oh So Many Years: Ch. 12 - December

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

The Yule Ball has been announced and Fred Weasley has made the sinking realization that he’s completely and utterly attracted to Hermione Granger. But is he the only one with seemingly unrequited feelings?

So many questions and yet the biggest one of all: Who is taking Hermione Granger to the ball?

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note:

I'M SO SO SO SORRY THIS WAS LATE! The week got away from me and before I knew it, it was Sunday and I hadn't written ANYTHING. So, I ended up writing this entire chapter in one day and fell asleep editing it. I hope you guys like this chapter as much as I do!

I update every week before midnight on Sundays (US MST) (except for this time...ha ha ha...)!

Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog! xoxo

Masterlist

<<Chapter 11

  December come to me I hope I can see You not just in dreams

I will let you be

Why can't you believe

How much you really mean

 Hermione sat in the library, feeling more on edge than she ever had in her life. Krum was due to meet her at any moment and all she could think about was…her face heated just thinking about it. She’d had the dream again. No, not her nightmare. Her nights of fear inducing dreams were long gone ever since she started spending most of her days with the twins. No, she had had the dream again. The one that left her stomach in heated knots and raised her pulse to a terrifying level. While the dream started the same as last time – the library, the couple, the hands on her body and lips kissing up her neck – this time, when she turned to catch a glimpse of the fiery red hair, the world spun around her. It spun and spun until she realized the world wasn’t spinning at all – she was. She was dancing, turning circles in space as the same pair of hands held her close. Her mind fought tooth and nail to catch a glimpse of the mystery man, but it was as if her spine was fused – unable to look anywhere but straight ahead. Who was it and why did they turn her hot and feverish? Why did she melt at just the thought of their embrace?

When she awoke that morning, sweaty and out of breath, she couldn’t ignore the thrumming of her heart at the apex of her thighs. Shifting in her seat, she tried to quell the achy feeling starting to rise just from the brief memory of her subconscious escapades. Fully expecting to become a jumbled mess of embarrassment and arousal, she was nervous to see Ron in History of Magic that morning. However, much to her pleasure and confusion, when she saw him, she felt nothing more than a slight heat on her face which she attributed to nerves over how she might feel, rather than a true reaction due to her dream. Perhaps her ability to compose herself was better than she thought. The possibility quelled her racing mind, but she couldn’t ignore the small nagging voice in the back of her head that said she knew more than one person with red hair.

“Hello, боец, you are vell, yes?” Krum’s voice broke Hermione from her thoughts. She jumped, dropping the heavy book in her hands onto the parchment covered table with a muffled thud.

“Viktor hello. Yes, I’m doing quite well,” greeted Hermione breathlessly. “I can call you Viktor, correct?”

“You can call me vhatever you vant, боец,” said Viktor, giving her a reserved smile that Hermione found to be quite charming.

“Ah, yes. Well, I suppose if we’re going to be studying together, I should probably introduce myself properly—” she extended a hand to him “—Hello Viktor, my name is Hermione Granger. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Hermy-own?” said Viktor with great difficulty as he shook her hand. His full lips twisted and stumbled over the vowels and consonants.

Hermione laughed nervously. “No, no. Hermione. Like this: Her-my-oh-nee,” she spoke slowly, sounding out her name bit by bit.

Viktor’s brows scrunched in concentration as he repeated her to the best of his abilities, “Her-my-oh-ninny.”

“Close enough,” sighed Hermione in good nature, gesturing for Viktor to take a seat across from her.

He surprised her by seating himself in the chair next to her with ease. Or at least as much ease as possible for the tall Bulgarian. He was surprisingly uncoordinated for someone who flew with such grace on the quidditch field. The one advantage to seeing Viktor Krum off of his broom, however, was the ability to see just how handsome he was. He had a very pleasing face, with a broad brow, sharp cheekbones, strong nose, and equally strong jawline. Yes, he was really quite handsome, Hermione thought indulgently as she observed him. His black hair was cropped exceedingly short, which Hermione thought was a shame – she quite liked the way longer hair looked on men. Feeling as though she had been staring for much too long, Hermione turned back to her book as Viktor pulled out a notebook, quill, and ink.

“This library – it is much larger than the one at home,” commented Viktor casually.

Hermione looked up from her book again and glanced around at the tall shelves, expansive stone walls, and large tapestries. “Really? What is your school like?” she asked curiously. While she had read everything she could on Durmstrang, she had been left wanting – the Bulgarians were quite secretive.

“Vell, it is a castle much like yours, but it is much smaller. Ve have less students, I am thinking. The library is smaller, but you do not have all the same books here, I have noticed. Ve do not have a, what you call a restricted section,” said Viktor thoughtfully.

“Really?” asked Hermione in surprise.

“Yes. Ve do not view knowledge as good or bad at Durmstrang. Just knowledge.”

“I���ve always thought the same thing,” said Hermione excitedly, mindful to keep her volume low with her increased enthusiasm. She didn’t need to be kicked out of the library a second time that year. “I think knowledge should be accessible to everyone. Sure, some things can be quite vile, but it’s not the magic that makes the witch or wizard bad and a bad person will find the information out one way or another if they really want it. Tell me more about Durmstrang.”

“It gets very cold in the vinters and the fires are only lit for classes and such. So ve vear heavy cloaks to keep us varm. But in the spring and summer, you should see the grounds. Vhile our castle is smaller than yours, the grounds are triple the size! Ve vill fly for hours over the mountains and lakes. It is beautiful,” said Viktor proudly. Hermione tried to imagine a school with grounds triple the size of Hogwarts. She already felt like the space around her school was expansive.

“That sounds lovely,” responded Hermione with a smile.

“Do you fly, Herm-own-ninny?”

“Oh no—” Hermione chuckled bashfully “—I’m quite afraid of heights if I’m being honest. But I love quidditch. I think the sport is so fascinating. The theory and tactics behind it are very interesting and of course the talent it takes to fly the way some players do is very impressive. Like you, for example—”

Viktor raised his dark, thick brows in surprise.

“—I saw you at the world cup, you know. You’re an excellent flyer. Even Harry agreed. He was quite impressed with your…oh what was it…oh! The Wronski Feint. Does that sound right?”

“Yes, yes! That is vone of my favorites. Unfortunately, ve did not vin…” Viktor trailed off, frowning as if the loss of the world cup was still a freshly open wound.

“Yes, but you ended things on your own terms,” said Hermione, remembering Harry’s explanation for Viktor’s catching of the snitch while Ireland was up by 160 points.

Viktor perked up at her comment. “Yes, that’s exactly it! Ve vould not be able to catch up, I knew that. Their chasers vere too good.”

“So, you caught the snitch to end the game with only a loss of ten point, as opposed to three hundred and ten,” concluded Hermione, settling comfortably into her seat. She felt much more relaxed now than she did when Viktor had first sat down.

Viktor smiled at her in appraisal. “That is exactly vhat I did. You are very smart Harmony. Smart and strong.”

Hermione blushed at his compliment, tucking a loose curl behind her ear, and looking down at her textbook shyly. Still, she couldn’t fight off the smile that formed on her face at his praise. They were silent for a moment, both of them turning to their work to fill the time. Afterall, they were there to study.

Hermione was just finishing her chapter when Viktor spoke again, “Have you heard of the ball that is happening at Christmas time?”

Hermione looked up, finding an earnest Viktor staring back at her. “Yes, they announced it formally last night with some unfortunate dance lessons as well. Did you have something similar?”

“No, ve at Durmstrang learn how to dance first and second year. It is expected that ve know how, for formal events vhen ve are older,” said Viktor.

“How fortunate,” said Hermione. “I was lucky enough to have my dad teach me a bit when I was younger. My mum and dad like to play the radio in the kitchen and sometimes on Sunday mornings my dad will pull me away from whatever I’m reading at the table and make me dance with him.” She smiled at the memory, feeling a small pang of homesickness. It was high time she sent her parents a letter – with all her extra time spent with Fred and George her weekly letters home had dissolved into a dismal once or twice a month.

“That sounds very nice,” responded Viktor genuinely before clearing his throat and looking down at his folded hands on the table. “Perhaps you vould like to accompany me to the ball?”

“Pardon?” Hermione pulled out of her innocent musing of home with confusion. Surely, she must have heard him wrong because she could have sworn Viktor Krum just asked her to the Yule Ball.

“The ball – vould you like to go vith me?”

The question hung in the air – Viktor looking expectantly at Hermione as she tried to comprehend it. Viktor Krum wanted to go to the Yule Ball with her?

“Why?” The question blurted out before she could stop herself.

Krum blinked in surprise. He took a moment to mull her words before answering, “Vell, I think you are very pretty. You are very smart, and you have the heart of a fighter. Vhy not?”

Hermione was struck – mouth gaping and brain short-circuiting. Viktor Krum thought she was pretty. Out of all the girls in the school to pick, and there were many available girls as the ball was only announced the day before, and he chose her. Answer him you daft airhead, her brain screamed as she still delayed her response.

“Of course, if you already are going with someone then—”

“No, no. I’m not,” Hermione reassured him in a panicky manner.

“Then you are just not interested or…?”

“No—I just…Can I have some time to…think about it or something?”

Krum stared hard at her for a moment, before nodding with a small smile.

“It’s not that I don’t want to go with you—” Hermione sat forward, running her hands through her frizzy curls and pushing them out of her face as she rambled “—it’s just I don’t know you very well. Perhaps we should get to know each other a bit more first. It’s important that we know each other before we decide to go together, otherwise we’d get there and risk finding out that we can’t stand each other. But please don’t think that I’m just delaying an inevitable ‘no’ to be nice. I swear—”

“Of course, Herm-oh-nee. Take all the time you need. Until then, ve vill spend more time together. Yes?”

Hermione was grateful for the interruption of her nervous babbling. Any second longer and she was sure to make such a fool of herself that Viktor might rescind his offer. “Yes, I would like that.”

Viktor stood, collecting his things, and placing them in his bag. Hermione glanced at the large grandfather clock across the study area and noticed it was almost time for Charms. She stood too, placing her book in her bag. Once the two were packed up, they headed towards the exit of the library. It was just outside the large double doors that the two parted ways, headed in opposite directions of the castle for class. Expecting his usual bow of departure, Hermione was surprised when instead Viktor grabbed her right hand in his and brought the back of it up to his lips. She blushed something furious, her face growing hot as embers as his soft lips brushed the sensitive skin. Then he was gone, and she was left to gawk in his direction as a bubbling glee built up in her chest.

The joyous moment was cut short however by her two troublesome shadows.

“My, my, my…was that Viktor Krum?” asked one twin as the two of them rounded the corner.

“You know, you two really must stop spying on me. It’s getting sad and weird,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes and turning away from the two ginger boys as she headed in the direction of her Charms class.

“Excuse you missy. We were not spying. We were merely walking by and decided to stop and watch the show,” said who she now recognized as George.

“Hmmm,” responded Hermione flatly, continuing to walk.

“So, what did Viktor want?” asked George.

“None of your business George Fabian Weasley.”

“I’m wounded—” George held a hand up to his heart “—we simply want to be a part of your life, Hermione. You know, be good friends and all.”

“Sure, you do,” she grumbled.

“I don’t think she believed me. Back me up, Freddie,” said George turning to his brother.

Hermione waited to hear Fred’s familiar sarcastic quip and cheeky tone but was surprised when all he did was give a distracted hum. She turned her head, looking at Fred fully for the first time. Catching his hazel eyes, he looked at her with an indistinguishable expression. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest and the heat that had occupied her face shot south, leaving a burning sensation in her lower stomach. Oh no, thought Hermione quickly looking away from Fred and instead focusing on the grey stone beneath her feet. They reached the Charms classroom a moment later, much to her relief. She made to head into the room, but a long arm extended in front of her, blocking her path.

“I have class. Can’t you just save your routine till tonight? I’ll laugh and everything,” promised Hermione, trying her best to keep her voice light and not show the inner turmoil she was currently experiencing.

“About that – change of plans.”

“What? Are we not meeting at the usual place?”

“No, Fred and I have a bit of a surprise for you—” George looked to his twin with a pointed stare “—isn’t that right Freddie?”

Fred, who had been staring off down the hall, turned to his brother and nodded distractedly. If Hermione hadn’t been trying so desperately to get away from Frederick Weasley and into the safety of her classroom, she would have noted his odd behavior. But instead, she raised a curious brow at George.

“Right—” George stared at his twin with an odd expression before looking back down at Hermione “—meet us in the common room after dinner and make sure to bring Harry and Ron along as well. It’s really a surprise for all three of you.”

“Okay, yeah, we’ll be there,” Hermione said before ducking under George’s arm and disappearing into the classroom. She found Harry and Ron already seated a few rows back from the front and took her chair between the two of them.

“Are you alright, Hermione?” asked Harry as she stared down at the desk in front of her breathing deeply in through her nose.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she squeaked, before taking out her notebook and writing utensils.

It all made sense and simultaneously no sense at all. Fred was the person in her dreams. It explained the dancing certainly. It also explained the timing. The first time she’d had the dream was the night Fred found her in the hallway and walked her back to the tower. He had held her in his arms that night, even held her hand. At the time she thought nothing of it, but clearly her subconscious had been squirreling away those brief moments of contact and saving them to manifest in an entirely different way. No – this was not good. She didn’t like Fred! He was loud and obnoxious and troublesome. He wasted his potential and squandered his talents. Two things she wholeheartedly disagreed with. He pushed her buttons and got her into trouble. How could she possible like him as anything more than a friend?

The rest of the day went by in a blur, all of Hermione’s waking thoughts dedicated to Frederick Weasley in the worst possible way. By the time dinner was over and she found herself in the common room with Harry and Ron, she had come to decision. She did not like Fred. It was simply her subconscious playing a cruel trick on her. Dreams didn’t mean anything anyways – even if they did happen twice. Dreams were simply an amalgamation of your conscious memories and thoughts mixed into an incoherent jumble as your brain tried to process them at night. They weren’t accurate representations of ones waking feelings. They held zero stake in reality.

Unfortunately, that didn’t keep her heart from stopping when Fred and George emerged from the portrait hole with wide grins as they chuckled mischievously.

“What’s got you two so chuffed?” asked Ron, pulling a chocolate frog from his pocket, and opening the package.

“Just ran into Adrian Pucey in the hallway—”

“—struck him with a nasty sticking charm.”

“Won’t be going anyways for a while,” laughed George, leaning on the back of the couch to peer down at the work in Hermione’s hand. She’d dedicated this time in her day to working on the Canary Creams and was still determined to do so, change of plans or not.

“You can’t do that by the way,” stated George casually as he pointed over her shoulder to a bit of Charms work detailed on the page.

“Excuse you,” sneered Hermione, pushing his hand away. “And just why do you say that?” she asked taking offense.

“Because I’m the Charms master, remember?”

Hermione sighed, knowing begrudgingly that George was right. He was very well adept at Charms work – even better than herself. Slamming the notebook shut, she placed it on a side table and stood.

“Well – what’s this surprise then?” she asked digging into her pocket to distract herself from the two tall ginger boys in front of her. Her fingers closed around one of the hundreds of sugar quills Fred gave her and she pulled it out satisfactorily.

“The whole point of a surprise, my dear Hermione—” began George.

“—is to surprise you with it—" continued Fred.

“—not just tell you!” the two finished together before turning and heading back towards the portrait hole. Ron and Harry followed them, Hermione hanging back as she unwrapped the sugar quill and placed it in her mouth. She trailed behind the four of them as they traveled deeper down into the castle.

“Hey,” said Fred, dropping behind to walk beside her as George boldly led the way.

“Hi,” Hermione responded shyly, worrying the candy in her mouth to calm herself.

“Alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“You?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Good.”

Hermione felt stiff and uncomfortable, like at any moment her skeleton would relieve itself from its fleshy prison, shedding her skin and running as fast it could from Fred and this painful conversation. The worst part of it was that she knew why she was being weird, but why on earth was he in such a strange mood? For a brief moment, the mortifying thought that perhaps he knew about the dream, flashed into her head, but she quickly brushed it away. That was impossible. There was no way he could know.

The four of them continued further into the castle, heading down stairway after stairway until they were in its deep underbelly. It was when they found themselves in a large, well-lit corridor – the walls adorned with portraits of food – that Hermione realized where they were headed. Harry seemed to have the same realization as he groaned, turning around the look at her.

“Hermione…this isn’t another S.P.E.W. thing, is it?”

“Please don’t let it be a spew thing, Hermione. How many times have I told you – it’s no use! House elves like to work!” exclaimed Ron.

“First of all, it’s not called spew—”

“Oh, what is it now then – the House Elf Liberation Front?” asked Ron sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare thank you very much, and secondly in case you didn’t remember, I’m not the one dragging us down here. They are!” She pointed to Fred and George who now held amused grins on their faces.

“Quit your fighting and come on you lot,” laughed George coming to a halt in front of a picture of a large fruit bowl and ticking the green pear. The fruit squirmed and giggled until it turned into a large green door handle. George grabbed hold of the handle and pulled the door open to reveal the cavernous kitchens. Hermione wasn’t quite sure what she imagined the Hogwarts kitchens would look like, but it definitely wasn’t the enormous space in front of her. With ceilings almost as tall as the Great Hall, it seemed to host everything you could even want or need to make a large feast.

“Harry Potter! Oh, it’s Harry Potter!” a squeaky voice yelled out before Hermione heard Harry let out a guttural yelp. Turning to her best friend she saw Harry standing there with a small house elf nearly wrapped entirely around his middle, holding him tightly.

“Dobby?” Harry gasped in surprise.

“Yes sir! Dobby has been waiting and hoping Harry Potter would visit him and now he has!”

Dobby released Harry, stepping back, and allowing Hermione to get a full view of the infamous house elf Harry had told her so much about. He appeared to live up to his description. Long thin nose and batlike ears. However, instead of the filthy pillowcase Harry had described, he donned the strangest assortment of clothing Hermione had ever seen. Dobby wore what appeared to be a tea cozy adorned with brightly colored badges on his head like a hat, a patterned tie with no shirt, shorts, and mismatched socks. However, despite his strange fashion sense, Hermione found Dobby to be quite appealing. His enthusiastic personality and overwhelming love for Harry was enough to make her fond of the little house elf – no matter how odd he was.

“What are you doing here Dobby?” asked Harry.

“Dobby works here, sir! At Hogwarts! Professor Dumbledore has given Dobby and Winky jobs!” proclaimed the small elf proudly. Hermione perked up at the mention of a second house elf she was familiar with.

“Winky’s here?” she asked looking around her to try and spot the poor disgraced house elf she’d met so many months ago.

“Thought that would interest you, Hermione,” said Fred in a knowing manner. “She’s over there by the fire. But be warned, she’s not in a great mood.”

“Or at least she wasn’t when we were here yesterday,” added George with a grimace.

Rounding the corner, Hermione was greeted with a large crowd of busying house elves. They bowed and greeted her kindly as she passed them, spotting a small and slumped figure on a stool by the fire.

“Winky?” she asked hesitantly.

The little creature turned, looking a complete and utter mess. While dressed unarguably more fashionable than Dobby, in a matching blouse and skirt, her clothes were dirty and wrinkled. One look and Hermione could tell she was a very unhappy house elf. That sentiment was only confirmed when Winky burst into large, hysterical tears.

“Winky, oh Winky, please don’t cry,” pleaded Hermione, rushing forwards and placing a hand on Winky’s shoulder. Winky only cried harder. Unsure of what to do, Hermione stepped to the side, allowing Harry to take the lead. She watched in rapt horror as Winky, Bartemius Crouch’s ex-house elf wailed at her failure as a good, loyal elf. The whole thing was so upsetting. So upsetting, in fact, that by the time they left the kitchens – after Harry promised Dobby about a thousand times that they would visit – she was in a whole new kind of bad mood.

“Cheer up, Hermione. Winky will be alright eventually,” said Ron casually as they strode through the halls back up to Gryffindor tower.

“It’s just absolutely horrid. I can’t believe that anyone has allowed this to go on for so long,” cried Hermione, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Now, now. You’re forgetting that house elves like to work. It’s their way. Their tradition,” said Fred, slinging an arm over her and squeezing her shoulder kindly. A gesture that would usually calm and reassure her, made Hermione jump out of her skin, pulling away from Fred and his touch that filled her with new sensations and confusion.

“Yes, and why is that Frederick? Because they’ve been used as slaves by wizarding kind for so long that they’ve been generationally brainwashed into thinking that working for nothing and being treated horribly is some sort of badge of honor!” she shouted at Fred, all of her conflicting feeling bubbling up into one unanimous feeling of anger.

Fred gawked in surprise before responding with equal annoyance, “Well if they were truly so unhappy, they would say so like Dobby. Clearly, they’re smart enough to think for themselves or Dobby wouldn’t be walking around asking to be paid for his work!”

“But even Dobby said he’s been looking for a job for over a year. No one wants to pay a house elf to do work when they ask for it! Don’t you think there should be laws to help him with that kind of discrimination?”

“Sure, but he’s different! If more elves wanted rights, then there would be a demand. But seeing as it’s ONE house elf out of thousands it doesn’t really make sense that they would rewrite legislature,” scoffed Fred.

“But if there was new legislature then perhaps they’d feel more inclined to break away like Dobby—” Hermione ran a hand over her hair, feeling it already growing ten times its size as her anger increased “—you know what? Clearly you are all either too thick or too heartless to understand.”

Pushing past their group she charged forward, determined to put some space between herself and the lot.

“Hermione!” one of the twins called after her.

“Just let her go. She gets like this, but she always gets over it,” said Ron.

“Hermione!” the twin called again, ignoring Ron’s comment.

Continuing to march ahead of them, she made it as far as the end of the hallway before a pair of arms wrapped around her middle and lifted her into the air. Hermione let out a cry of surprise and then a ragged grunt as her stomach made contact with one of the boys’ shoulders. Sputtering in indignation, she attempted to brush her hair out of her face enough to figure out who had the audacity to pick her up. Finally making a part in the curtain of her curls she saw Ron, Harry, and George laughing as they caught up.

“Frederick Gideon Weasley, you put me down right this instant!” yelled Hermione, pounding her fists on his back,

“You three go on ahead. Miss Granger seems to have her knickers in a horrible twist. Just needs a moment to decompress. We’ll catch up,” said Fred casually as Ron, Harry, and George looked down at her in amusement.

“Are you three really just going to let him do this?” Hermione asked, looking up at them with pleading eyes.

They pondered her request for a moment, before George gave her a sweet smile and bopped her on the end of the nose with his pointer finger. “Yep.”

Ron was next, rubbing a hand on top of her head and messing up her curls. “Good luck, Hermione,” he chuckled before disappeared around Fred.

Harry was last, smiling the widest. “I hate to say it, but he’s right. Sorry, Hermione,” he said giving her a small wave and disappearing as well.

Hermione listened to their fading steps as they turned the corner and left for the tower. Then, Fred began to walk, and Hermione let her head hang once again, tired from the strain of keeping it upright.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” she questioned, feeling all the blood in her body rush to her head.

“Hush now. No talking,” said Fred gripping her legs tighter. Hermione tried not to focus on the way his grip sat dangerously close to the top of her knee-high socks. Instead, she focused on the ground moving below her and the backs of Fred’s shoes as he walked down hallways and corridors. It felt like they’d been walking forever when he finally lifted her off of his shoulder and deposited her down onto the ground. She stumbled, all the blood rushing back to her limbs and making her faint. Fred caught her, grabbing her by the upper arms and keeping her vertical. After a few moments he released his hold, instead reaching up and brushing her messy hair out of her face. He smiled down at her as he did so, making Hermione’s heart stutter as he tucked the pieces behind her ears.

“So…” Fred sighed looking down at her and then to his left, staring hard at the wall. Hermione followed his gaze to see what he was staring at and realized just where Fred had taken them. It was the painting he’d found her at, those few months ago.

“Why…?” she drifted off, confused as to why he had brought her there of all places.

“Well last time I found you here you were upset. I figured it might be a good place to take you. Clearly something’s bothering you—” he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck nervously “—I’ll just…leave you to it then.”

He made to walk away but before Hermione could stop herself, she called out to him. Fred halted in his tracks and turned back to her. “You can stay…if you’d like,” Hermione said softly, turning away from him and sitting down gently on the cold stone. She heard the shuffling of shoes before she felt Fred take a seat next to her. Hermione stared at the painting with unwavering concentration. Just like last time, the field had metamorphosized into an entirely new vision. While previously it had housed a mixture of many flowers on a bright sunny day, now it showed her nothing but thousands upon thousands of purple lilacs with an overcast sky.

“Viktor Krum asked me to the ball,” Hermione blurted. She didn’t know why she felt the need to tell him. She hadn’t planned on telling anyone – at least not until she made her decision. But something about the moment, the painting, and it being Fred, made her want to tell him more than anything.

Hermione expected him to be surprised. She expected him to look at her incredulously – perhaps call her a liar. Instead he smiled and gave her a look that said: ‘I could have guessed that’ before asking, “Is that what’s got you all in a twist? Worried you made the wrong choice by saying yes?”

“I didn’t say yes.”

That did surprise Fred. “What? You said no then?” he asked, a glint in his eye that if Hermione knew any better, she could have sworn looked something akin to hope.

“No – I told him I’d think about it.”

Fred laughed.

“What?” asked Hermione defensively.

Fred wiped a tear from under his right eye before catching his breath and answering, “Nothing, it’s just…only you would tell an international quidditch player ‘maybe’ when he asks you to a ball.”

“I want to make sure his intentions are right.”

“What? Want to make sure he’s not just trying to get into your knickers?” asked Fred with another laugh.

“More like I want to make sure he actually likes me and isn’t just trying to get to Harry,” admitted Hermione with a whisper. Looking at her hands, she worried the inside of her bottom lip. She felt foolish for her confession, but Fred had the annoying ability to put her at such ease that she blurted out all her worries before she even knew what she was doing.

“Hey—” Fred brought a hand up, grabbing ahold of her chin softly and turning her to face him “—why would you think a silly thing like that?” He smoothed his thumb over her skin, pulling her lip from out between her teeth as he frowned at her.

“I just…why would he like me? I’m nothing special.”

“Nothing special? Hermione Granger, I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again. Nothing special, she says,” Fred scoffed.

“Well, it’s true! My hair is a ratty nest, I’m skinny and knobby, and plain and freckly—”

“What’s wrong with freckly?” asked Fred accusingly before breaking out into a wry grin.

Hermione laughed. “You know what I mean,” she said, aware now that Fred’s hand had never left her face. Instead it found it’s home cupping the side of her cheek sweetly.

“No. I don’t think I do because…well because when I look at you, Hermione, I don’t see a knobby plain girl with ratty hair.”

“You don’t?” Hermione’s heart leapt into her throat. Suddenly the space between them seemed much too close but not close enough. Fred’s eyes scanned her face, flitting from her forehead to her lips before landing back on her eyes as she waited with bated breath for him to speak again.

“No.”

“What do you see?”

Fred hesitated, swallowing audibly as his sight flitted once again from her eyes to her lips and back up. “I see a beautiful girl with a wild mane and an equally wild fierceness. I see a beautiful girl that any man would be lucky to take to the ball,” said Fred, his voice a low timbre.

Hermione let out a shuddering breath. “What if…” she began, but stopped, unsure of whether to say next what she wanted to.

“Yes?” asked Fred, pushing her on.

“What if…what if I didn’t say yes because I was secretly hoping someone else might ask me?”

Fred deflated at Hermione’s question. Releasing her face, he dropped his hand and looked off to the painting once again as he sighed. For a brief moment he thought he saw what looked like disappointment on Hermione’s face, but that couldn’t be. Not when she’d just confessed, she said no to Viktor Krum because she hoped Ron would ask her to the ball. Still, it was probably for the best. He was taking Angelina after all – he hadn’t asked her yet of course, but she had made it exceedingly clear after Professor McGonagall’s abysmal dance lesson that she expected them to go together.

“I was thinking purple,” said Angelina, leaning lazily into Fred’s side as he stared into the fire of the Gryffindor common room.

“Huh?” he asked dumbly, Angelina’s comment pulling him out of a deep concentration. He’d been thinking about Hermione. He was…always thinking about Hermione.

“For my dress for the ball. Purple – I like purple. It’s my favorite color, you know?”

“I didn’t know. Is it really?” asked Fred, looking down and wrapping an arm around Angelina’s waist.

“It is. I figured you’d want to know now so you’ll know how to match your dress robes.”

“I think…” began Fred, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully. “I think that if you’re holding out for someone else and you’re not 100% sold on Krum, then you should wait.”

“Really?” asked Hermione, looking at him with those wide, Firewhisky brown eyes.

“Yeah, make Krum sweat it out for a bit. I’m sure he isn’t used to having to work for dates – it’ll be good for him. And it’ll give this other bloke some time, maaaybe he has something special planned for you.”

Hermione stared at him speculatively. “You say that as if you already know,” she said with an earnest, vulnerable expression on her face.

“I have it on good authority that by the end of next week you’ll have more than one invitation to the ball, ‘Mione. Trust me,” he winked, trying to keep a cool composure and not show the inappropriate disappointment he currently felt.

They continued to sit and stare at the painting above them for a while longer until Hermione broke the silence once again, “What about you?”

“What about me?” asked Fred, continuing to stare straight ahead.

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been…off today. Something bothering you?”

Fred breathed deeply. “You remember how we won all that money off Ludo Bagman at the world cup?” he asked.

Hermione nodded.

“Well, the arsehole paid us in leprechaun gold. We’ve tried to get in touch with him since, but he’s been dodging us and well…not only do we not have the money he owed us, but we also don’t have the money we gave him either. It’s why supplies are so tight for the business,” he admitted, remembering when Hermione had asked why they weren’t putting their development efforts into more than just one thing at a time.

The soft touch of Hermione’s hand on his brought Fred’s attention away from the painting. Briefly he looked down at the place where their hands were entangled. He should stop her. The touch while friendly in nature, did nothing to quell the stirring attraction in the pit of his stomach. But he didn’t. Instead he allowed himself to indulge in the small bit of intimacy. After all, it was innocent enough.

“Have you considered writing to him and reminding him just how serious unsanctioned gambling is in Britain? I’m sure he’d like to know how…consequential it would be if someone in the Ministry found out he’d been gambling illegally at the cup, especially with at least two underage wizards,” said Hermione.

Fred look at her incredulously. Had he really heard her say what he thought he did? “Are you suggesting blackmail, Miss Granger?”

“I’m just saying that if I were Ludo Bagman, I’d like to keep my job at the Ministry. How he chooses to do so, is entirely up to him.” She said the words so casually, you would have thought she was discussing an article in the Daily Prophet – not the plotting of blackmailing a Ministry official. But Fred didn’t miss the evil glint of mischief in her eye as she stared at him impishly. Good god, he did not deserve Hermione Granger.

And neither did his little brother, thought Fred as he sought out Ron that afternoon. It was Wednesday – a week and half till the ball and he had a mission. Despite his feelings towards Hermione and the thought of Ron being not nearly worthy of her, he knew that what Hermione wanted was for his idiot of a brother to ask her to the ball. So, he was going to make sure just that happened. He found Ron on the grounds, under a tree near the black lake with Harry and Hermione. Despite the snow and freezing temperatures, the three were huddled up arguing about something as a small blue flame floated near them. Wrapping his robes around him tightly, Fred trudged through the snow towards the three of them.

“What’s this then? Not you three freezing your arses off in the snow when there’s a perfectly good castle just over there!” he called out to them, breaking the small trio out of whatever spat they were in.

“Hullo to you too,” called Harry.

“What do you want?” asked Ron.

“Oi. Very rude! I can’t come and see my favorite baby brother?”

“Is it me that you want?” questioned Ron, sending a glance in Hermione’s direction.

“Actually yes—” Fred dug his hands deep into his pockets “—mind if we…” He gestured behind him and Ron stood with a huff – clearly put out by having to pause his conversation.

Fred walked a distance from where Harry and Hermione sat before he stopped and turned to Ron.

“What?” asked Ron again, looking down at him expectantly. Merlin, when did he get so tall? wondered Fred.

“Have you got yourself a date to the ball yet?”

“Why do you care mate?” laughed Ron, looking around like he expected George to pop up at any moment and pummel him with snowballs.

“I’m just saying, time’s running out and before you know it, the ones you really want to ask will be taken,” he said sending a purposeful look towards Hermione.

“What? Hermione? Don’t be ridiculous,” squeaked Ron.

It took every last ounce of his strength, for Fred to not throttle Ron for his stupidity. Here he was trying to do a nice thing for Hermione and subsequently his little brother and what did he get in return? He was Father bloody Christmas at this point.

“Listen – you can say whatever you want, but your little crush on Hermione—”

“—I don’t have a crush on Hermione—”

“—your little crush on Hermione isn’t as big of a secret to some. So, I advise you ask her before somebody else does.”

Ron scoffed, “Sure.”

“Hey—” Fred held his hands up in defeat “—I’m just saying. And now that I’ve said my peace, my moral obligation is done, and I can leave you to it. Don’t cock it up, mate.”

Ron looked at Fred like he was a strange creature from the depths of the Black Lake itself. “Okay…well if that’s all, I’m gonna head back. Weirdo…” Ron breathed the last sentiment as he turned away from Fred and headed back towards Harry and Hermione.

Fred shook his head, having the sinking feeling that Ron would, in fact, cock it up.

And he’d been right. Two days later and Ron had yet to ask Hermione to the ball. Even worse, he had it on good authority – from some gossiping third year girls – that Krum had approached Hermione on the grounds the day before. For all he knew, Krum had asked her again and the poor girl had said yes because at this point it was so close to the day of the ball that she probably thought Ron would never ask! Fred glared down at the parchment in front of him and then over to Ron who was seated on the couch between Harry and Hermione. Scratching a quick note onto a bit of spare parchment, he crumpled it and threw it in Ron’s direction. Ron picked it up, unfolding the note and reading it out loud.

“Hurry up and ask someone before all the good ones are taken. Who are you taking the ball then?” Ron asked in annoyance.

Fred looked from Ron to Angelina who sat at a nearby table with Alicia working on her potions essay. Crumpling up another piece of parchment, he sent it flying in Angelina’s direction. She looked up at him with a tired expression when the paper landed on a bit of ink not yet dried.

“What?” Angelina asked.

“Fancy going to the ball with me, Johnson? I think we’d make a rather good-looking pair.”

Angelina smiled widely, looking excitedly at Alicia before turning back to Fred and nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, I’d love to Fred.”

George clapped a hand on Fred’s back in congratulations which he gracefully took. Really it wasn’t the most romantic thing. Perhaps it would have been more romantic if Angelina hadn’t already decided they were going together. But at least he’d asked her. Fred shot a smug grin and wink in Ron’s direction. While the irritated expression on Ron’s face was expected, the look on Hermione’s face was not. She almost seemed upset as their eyes met momentarily, but before Fred could properly tell, she looked away.

“Say…Hermione…” began Ron.

Alright, not off to a great start, but it’s something, thought Fred as he listened closely.

“Yes?” asked Hermione, looking at Ron in trepidation.

“You’re a girl…”

“Very well spotted,” Hermione said, giving him a confused look.

“Well, why don’t we go together?”

Yes! He’d done it! Just when he thought Ron didn’t have it in him, he overstepped Fred’s expectations. Fred was almost tempted to walk over and pull him into a hug, but then all temptation was erased at what he heard next.

“Really?” asked Hermione in surprise.

“Yeah. I mean it’s one thing for a guy to show up alone, but for a girl it’s just sad.”

No…no, no, no. Fred groaned, laying his head in his hands. George winced beside him, knowing that a comment like that absolutely would not fly with Hermione.

“What makes you think I’d be going alone?” asked Hermione – a seemingly innocent question, but Fred knew that behind it, lurked only bad things for Ron.

“I mean, come on…” remarked Ron, faltering a bit when he saw the rage in Hermione’s eyes. Just when Fred thought it couldn’t get any worse…

“For your information. I won’t be going alone because somebody already asked me…” Fred looked up when Hermione hesitated. While he knew it wasn’t really any of his business, a part of him was wildly curious as to what the next thing she had to say was. Hermione seemed to agree with his involvement, for her eyes landed on him for the briefest of moments before she looked back at Ron and seethed her answer, “And I said yes.”

Christmas morning came without a hitch. The term had been over for nearly a week now and Fred could finally focus all of his time and effort into working out the remaining kinks of the Canary Creams. In fact, he’d spent the last week cooped up in the small classroom that was their work area, reading and brewing. George had been there quite a bit as well, but he often snuck out to the kitchens or to play a few rounds of exploding snap with Lee. Usually Fred would go too, but with the added company of Hermione he found he didn’t mind staying behind to continue working. Hermione had almost no qualms with spending most of her time hidden away in their workspace as she was still vexed with Ron over his disastrous attempt to ask her to the ball. While Fred felt bad that it didn’t work out the way he planned, he hated to admit that a small part of him was happy Ron wasn’t taking Hermione to the Yule Ball. She was too good for him, he told himself resolutely.

Fred rolled over in his bed and pulled back the curtains to see the sky still inky black. Winter mornings were always so bleak and dismal. He preferred summer when he woke with the sun. But still, the cheer and excitement that came with Christmas morning left him wide awake and so he sat up excitedly, ready to see what presents were waiting for him. The pile at the end of his bed looked its usual size except for a rather large box at the very bottom. He wondered for a moment who that could be from. Did his mother hit her head and forget they were poor? he pondered, reaching out and grabbing the first present from the top. Looking at the tag, he recognized it was from Angelina. He smiled, knowing with a chagrin that it was most likely sweets. She always got him and George sweets – despite Fred mentioning many times that he didn’t care for candy all that much. Tearing the wrapping, he was pleasantly surprised to find not candy, but a small golden compass for his broom. They had seen it in a shop last Hogsmeade weekend. Fred had innocently mentioned he’d quite like a compass for his broom, but never did he imagine Angelina would buy it for him. Amusedly, he thought of the present he got her. That same Hogsmeade visit she’d spent hours eyeing a scarf in a little side shop. When she wasn’t looking, he’d snuck back and purchased it for her. Placing the compass gently to the side, he dug into the rest of his presents. A big box of chocolate frogs from Lee, a sweater from his mum and dad along with some fudge, and a year-long subscription to Jokester’s Magazine from Alicia. All in all, a good turn out – but there was still one present he had yet to open. A big box that simply read: To Fred and George, From Hermione.

Fred reached for the box and then stopped. Looking over at the closed curtains of George’s bed, he wondered if he should open the present when it was meant for him and George. Really, he should wait for George to wake up and open the present together, thought Fred before grabbing the corner of the wrapping and tearing it open. Ridding the large box of its wrappings, he pulled off the lid of the box to reveal a number of small vials and boxes.

“What?” Fred pondered out loud.

“Oi! You started with out me, ya git,” grumbled George, pulling back his curtains and glaring at Fred.

“Come and see what Hermione’s got us Georgie. I’m not quite sure what it is.”

George groaned, rolling out his bed with a heavy thump of his feet and shuffling over to him. George stared down at the contents of the box and reached in. His fingers closed around a vial of deep blue color. Turning it over and reading the card attached to the top George read aloud: “Billywig sting—" George reached in and grabbed a box this time “—dried mandrake root. Freddie, I think the girls gone and bought us potions ingredients for Christmas.”

“Really?!” Fred asked excitedly, reaching down, and grabbing a jar of newt spleen. Sure enough, it looked like the box was filled with a bit of ingredients Fred had ever heard of and then a few he had not. This would help their progress more than he though Hermione even realized. Brilliant. It was just brilliant.

“We’re set for a while now, Freddie!” exclaimed George, sitting down on his own bed and beginning to open his presents.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Fred couldn’t wipe the grin from his face for the rest of the morning. With the knowledge that they were free to explore and experiment to their hearts desire, he was constantly reminded of one of the best Christmas presents he’d ever gotten. He meant to tell her as much too, but Hermione was distinctly missing from the breakfast that morning and the common room as well. When he finally ran into Ron and Harry and asked about her, they had said something about her getting ready for the ball. Ron had scoffed, still convinced that Hermione was lying about her date for the Yule Ball. While Fred was one of the few who actually knew who she was going with, he wasn’t going to tell Ron any different. Secretly he couldn’t wait to see the stupid look on Ron’s face when Hermione arrived that on the arm of Viktor Krum.

How could it possibly take her all day to get ready for a stupid dance? thought Fred as he settled into a game of chess with Ron. While his little brother walloped him, checking his king for the third time that morning, Fred thought of Hermione’s fantastic Christmas gift. Self-consciously he wondered if his gift to her matched up. What was a small book compared to all those ingredients? It must have cost her almost all her pocket money and then some. The rest of the day was spent in the common room, alternating between chess, exploding snap, and chatting with his fellow Gryffindors. The tower was much busier than any holiday Fred had spent at Hogwarts – the Yule Ball keeping everyone over Christmas break that usually would have gone home. It was a little after two when Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and Ginny stated they were headed up to their dorms to get ready for the ball. He, George, Lee, Ron, and Harry bid they goodbye before deciding to take a walk around the grounds before getting ready themselves. The wind was bone chilling as they strolled from the castle to the quidditch pitch and back, leaving their faces tinged pink and raw.

By the time they got back, they had nearly an hour till the ball began and so, they all departed to their dorms to get into their dress robes. Fred’s dress robes were a standard black, but he’d purchased a purple tie a week ago via owl-order to match Angelina’s dress. Checking himself in the mirror one last time, he straightened his tie and smoothed down his long, ginger locks. George appeared in the mirror behind him, straightening his tie as well and giving him a shit-eating grin.

“I reckon we’ll be the best-looking blokes at the ball tonight,” said George definitively.

“Yes, but only if you mean I’ll be the best looking and you’ll be a close second,” quipped Fred.

“You both look like two huge identical prats to me—” Lee rolled his eyes, pulling at the sleeves of his baby blue robes “—now let’s go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we get to hear the Weird Sisters play.”

Lee hadn’t shut up about the Weird Sisters playing at the Yule Ball since Dumbledore had announced it. Fred and George were excited too, but they didn’t hold quite a candle in their hearts for the band like Lee did.

The night went by quickly and spectacularly. The food was divine, the Weird Sisters were just as good as Fred imagined, and Angelina was as good a date as he could imagine for the night. They talked and joked and danced, never lulling into awkward silence like so many couple there that night. It wasn’t until Angelina excused herself to the restroom that Fred realized it was nearly eleven at night. Where had the time gone? Glancing around the marvelously decorated room, he saw George laughing loudly at something Lee had said near the punchbowl, Kenneth Towler was dancing slowly to a ballad with his Ravenclaw date, and across the room sat Ron and Harry looking miserable. Their dates had long since abandoned them, Fred noted, as they had failed to dance with them once – a missed opportunity as Fred acknowledged that both Padma and Pavarti Patil were very pretty girls. Unfortunately, Ron and Harry were just too preoccupied with Hermione and more importantly her date. When he failed to spot the duckling turned swan of the evening, he meandered casually out of the room and into the adjoining corridor where several students stood mingling. Traveling further down, he spotted a terrace door ajar and peaked through the glass to see Hermione standing by herself in the cold. Hands braced on the stone railing, she looked out into the dark expanse of the knight.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” exclaimed Fred, noting Hermione’s flushed appearance and looking for any signs of her turning blue. Luckily, the only thing blue about her was the fabric of her dress – a dress that every girl apparently adored that evening, for even Angelina had spent a fair bit of time discussing it with Alicia. Hermione truly did look beautiful. Everyone had been gossiping about her since the moment she walked into the ballroom on the arm of Viktor Krum. Her dress revealed a figure Fred had never seen before – one that was womanly and soft, her skin looked soft and dewy like she’d stepped out of a painting, and her hair had somehow been tamed into an elaborate updo with a few loose curls framing her face. Although, if Fred was being honest with himself, he preferred her hair the way it usually looked – wild and lioness-like.

Hermione jumped, grabbing ahold of the railing in front of her and bringing a hand up to her heart. Clearly, she hadn’t expected company out here and Fred didn’t blame her – only someone truly insane would be standing out in the cold like this without the proper robes. “Merlin Fred, you scared me!”

“What are you doing out here?” he asked again, stepping towards her.

“Nothing…Viktor went to get drinks and I needed a bit of fresh air,” said Hermione, but the way in which she worried her bottom lip, her deliciously tempting bottom lip, between her teeth told him there might be more. So, he stared at her, raising an eyebrow in question until she broke.

“Oh god, Fred. I don’t know what to do!” she yelled, bringing a hand up to her temple. She began to pace back and forth, the hem of her dress dragging in the snow that was beginning to build on the terrace.

Fred reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, halting her movements. “What happened? What’s the matter?” he asked, looking over her for any signs of physical ailments. Had Krum hurt her somehow?

“Nothing, well no that’s not true. It is something, but it hasn’t necessarily happened yet and I—”

“Just tell me why you’re out here trying to freeze to death, please Hermione,” said Fred, cutting her ramblings short.

“I…what if he tries to kiss me?”

Fred wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

“I mean, you kiss him back. If that’s what you want and if it’s not what you want, then kick him in the shins. You’ve got a killer kick – I can attest to that personally.”

Hermione smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes, the golden amber color shining with worry. “I just…I was dancing with him and there was a moment where I thought he might kiss me and then someone interrupted us and so we didn’t. But I had the realization that he might try to kiss me again and I’ve never kissed anyone before. What if I’m bad at it, Fred?” she asked looking up at him with a desperate expression.

“It’s a first kiss – everyone’s first kiss is a little awkward,” reasoned Fred, trying very hard not to look at her plump pink lips.

“Yes, but what if I’m so bad that he never wants to kiss me again? I just…I don’t know what to expect or what to do and I—”

Before Fred could weigh the pros and cons of his actions, he was leaning down and capturing Hermione’s frantically moving lips in his own. The kiss was sweet at first, a firm yet gentle press of his lips to hers, but like a man thirsting in the desert, the moment he reached water he had to drink his fill. Reaching up, he cupped her face and deepened the kiss. Slotting their lips, he moved in slow measured movements. For her first kiss, Hermione was more skilled than she knew. Her lips moved naturally and achingly sweet with his, parting just enough for him to swipe his tongue along the crease and taste her. Later on, he would reason with himself that he only did it to shut her up. He’d go on to tell her, after breaking the kiss, that he merely did it so she wouldn’t be nervous for when Krum kissed her later – she’d be prepared and know what to expect. But in that moment, as he felt her soft skin beneath his fingertips and breathed in her essence, he couldn’t lie to himself. He kissed her because he was selfish. He kissed her because the idea of Krum being the first man to sample her sweet lips lit a burning fire of rage in his veins. He kissed her because he wanted to.

Chapter 13>>>

Taglist:

@theworldisugly-22

@aoonai

@sjh-07-10

@is-it-madness

@i-d-e-g-a-f

[wirewitchviolet]

How not to Write a Campaign

I have been playing RPGs for a very long time. Back in the day, I avoided any and all pre-written adventures of any sort because my limited experience with them was... just frankly terrible. Weird inconsistencies in tone, unfair encounter setups, too many assumptions about PCs’ motives and actions, etc. Then much later I discovered a group of writers who actually got it, wrote things perfectly in line with how my friends like a game to go, and we’ve been all in on those for a decade and change. But I just finished running a ROUGH one, and I want something good to come of it.

I don’t want to make this a specific review, because... I’m in the industry, I know the people who wrote this campaign, I can guess at some of the problems involved, and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or reputation, so let me just refer to the offending prewritten campaign here as the Amnesia Campaign. It’s for a big fantasy RPG, it riffs of a particular author’s work, you can probably guess what it is from that, but, I’m trying.

The first problem I need to bring up with the Amnesia Campaign is that it just commits the cardinal sin of long term RPG campaign writing- The mustache-twirling villain who always manages to escape from the PCs at the last minute. I cannot convey just how important it is that you never, ever do this. The worst sort of example is when you plan around the PCs actually confronting your villain multiple times, and failing to kill them, which is a terrible idea because there really is no way to ever stack the deck and account for every contingency to make an unwinnable fight, or even one where escape is always possible, and especially if you’re publishing adventures, some number of groups will kill the villain too early, either shorting things out or forcing a handwave to keep an ineffectual villain in play and pretend they’re still a threat.

The Amnesia Campaign doesn’t quite go there. Having an actual chance to go toe to toe with the villain is reserved for the very end, but it does use another variant, where no matter what happens, the PCs arrive just after the villain they’re chasing has left. Now... there’s a way you can make that work. If you have a villain who cannot be reached in practical fashion, and can launch attacks anywhere within a huge region, you can build a whole campaign out of characters reacting to the aftermath of evil actions they could not be expected to even learn about until the villain has left the scene. Here, meanwhile, we have a villain with a big elaborate plot that requires traveling all over the world gathering things, based on research he does at the very start which the PCs can, and indeed are expected to do, quickly pick up on these research notes, and basically know everything the villain plans to do from nearly the start of a very long campaign. And... frankly, the villain has no real edge to keep him believably one step ahead. He is a mildly wealthy man hiring goons, mundane forms of transportation, and having to negotiate and fight his way through to various sub-objectives needed for his plan, and it is at least strongly implied that he doesn’t have a lot of lead time. When presented with a scenario about someone needing to be chased down and stopped, PCs can pretty reliably be counted on to constantly be rushing forward, coming up with clever ways to accomplish what they need to in less time, and cut down if not completely nullify their travel time. But, like with battles the villain somehow keeps escaping from, I am forced to continuously state to my players in running this that no, somehow even after avoiding this whole side quest by reading the mind of the person with important information, and directly teleporting to where the villain left for by riverboat, he somehow beat them there, and once again, just left. It’s frustrating, and implausible. We end up with a villain who seems overwhelmingly outmatched, but keeps succeeding because... well, he has plot armor so we’re railroading this.

Admittedly, having a good villain when writing a full campaign in advance can be tricky. The safe and tested formula is generally to start off with minions of your main villain, starting with some who don’t even know who they’re ultimately working for, gradually build up to who’s calling the shots and to what end, have a big side trip to prepare for the final confrontation not directly involving the villains, than cap it with a big showdown. If the PCs know who the main villain is from the very start and where to find them, it becomes hard to rationalize anything between. Sometimes you can pull it off if they’re leading an army or ruling a country, but even then, you want to work up a food chain to them.

A similar problem, which crops up a bit towards the end of the Amnesia Campaign, is making too many assumptions about how the PCs react, and who they befriend. In RPG writing, you need to make as few assumptions as possible about the specifics of what the PCs will do in any situation. You can count on the real broad strokes. The party will investigate the situation described in the adventure, they’ll explore the area, find the villains, fight them, win, learn something to keep the larger plot growing, but that’s it. You can’t assume they’re going to team up with this NPC, enter this room from that direction, or otherwise reenact what you’d imagine you’d do in their place, or what happened in your test play of your adventure. This is particularly important when you include a little sidequest unconnected to their primary goal, or you’re presenting an open-ended investigation.

Ideally, you just have a sensible location, have some villains in it with clear goals and personalities laid out, and you scatter around some things to enable various clever tricks if players think to try them, without mandating any of them. Mention where windows are, and chandeliers, and holes just too small for the average human to fit through, but don’t, as part of the Amnesia Campaign does, invest heavily in the assumption that the PCs will start investigating a sewer system when investigating how a cult gets around a city and go sparse on other possible clues. Also don’t waste adventure background note space on thousands of years of history at the expense of what the actual current problem in the area is and who or what is behind it.

The next problem is one that, were I the average consumer just buying this book would bother me a hell of a lot more than it does as someone who knows how the sausage gets made. Put mildly... you do not want to play a rogue in the Amnesia Campaign. Nor do you want to play a swashbuckler, a critical-hit focused character of any stripe, really any class out of the... roughly 25% of all classes who rely on knowledge of where to make a hit count the most to do the full amount of damage with their attacks, because practically everything is immune.

Now, again. I partly understand how this happens. We have several different authors writing different chapters of the campaign, simultaneously, in pretty unforgiving crunchy conditions, with just a rough outline to go off. Nobody really has a chance to confirm notes and say “hey, did your chapter totally invalidate one of the foundational character archetypes, because I was thinking of doing that and having two of those back to back would be a bit much.” And while the publisher of the Amnesia Campaign does throw out little booklets of tips for players on what sort of character concepts will/won’t work, they’re not written last, so this sort of tip is missing there too. On the other hand, it’s a huge problem within nearly any given chapter just on its own. If you’re making the call on what all monsters to include in a multi-level stretch of a campaign, you should generally avoid choosing nothing but monsters immune to one of the most common bread and butter class features. And honestly, given how the subject matter naturally lends to the deployment of a particular monster type, erring on the side of assuming everyone else is heavily deploying them wouldn’t be a bad assumption for any author to make.

This though, unlike the rest of my gripes, is ultimately a high level problem that needs a high level solution. When you’re publishing a whole campaign, and you’re doing it in a game where several foundational character concepts kinda live or die based on things like whether things are properly harmed by particular flavors of damage, or whether a decent percentage of enemies fall under a certain classification, that really shouldn’t be a double-blind. Coordinating to get all authors to use a decent spread, or include outline notes like “it’d make sense for about half the enemies in this chapter to be fire elemental themed in various ways, but keep a good variety otherwise,” and/or trying to get a rough handle on emergent themes to adjust for/warn about in player-facing pitch material. Even the best-written campaigns are prone to rude awakenings or hilarious reductions in challenge as turns out, say, going all in on cold damage does indeed pay off for the one with Fire in the title.

Meanwhile, on the other side of that coin, more or less, huge swaths of the Amnesia Campaign really just completely break down by failing to account for some basic standard issue capabilities of a typical party. Particularly the fact that past a certain point, you need to account for the fact that the PCs are almost certainly capable of flight. It’s a thing that happens. If you are really keen on writing adventures where local warlords are chilling out on the open-air rooftop patios of their otherwise heavily fortified fortresses, or melee-oriented monsters plan an ambush in a canyon in a vast wasteland, or a dangerous leapfrog between a series of elevated platforms over something dangerous, you want to make those low-level adventures, or else a typical party, possibly even accidentally, will just completely circumvent the whole thing. There is a whole lot of that in the back of the Amnesia Campaign. My group... literally skipped giant swaths. Heck, there was a whole side quest in the last book where the PCs are rewarded with the location of a giant obelisk which I had to cut because... it was in the middle of a big open outdoor space, and they flew over the city on the way in. They definitely had a view over those hedges.

This sort of dovetails into the next issue, consistently escalating threats. The whole fantasy RPG gimmick is that at level 1, you’re a helpless peasant barely capable of doing anything remarkable, and by level 20 you’re literally punching gods in the face and have more money in your pocket than everyone else in your home country combined (with the obvious exception of the other people in your party). Now, mechanically, balancing around that is a very easy math problem. Characters of level X are meant to deal with threats of level Y, either pull a Y level monster out of the book, or slap levels on something lower to bring it to that point, or spread that out over more enemies, then they drop Z amount of fancy loot. Easiest thing in the world. But you also need things to fit together thematically. You can absolutely throw fighter levels onto the local chicken-stealing goblins to make them mechanically as threatening as a demigod bursting through from another plane of reality, but when a group of characters is at a level where they can be expected to handle the former, it’s just plain weird for them to end up dealing with the latter. Like, yes, these particular goblins have 200 HP instead of the usual 4, so the local town guard can’t handle them, but that should never be true of chicken-stealing goblins. You don’t get that tough stealing chickens, and once you’ve gotten that tough, you should have your sights set a good deal higher than that. At least be stealing rocs or something.

The 4th chapter of the Amnesia Campaign is a particularly blatant example of not getting this, featuring a large number of “please be aware the party can fly at this level” moments mentioned above, and also just demanding the PCs deal with problems that really are beneath them at that point. Seeking out local guides, impressing petty local warlords, getting challenged by giants they must impress to rest safely when crossing a huge desert. These are... not appropriate speed bumps at a point in the narrative where the party is traveling to a location where they are going to literally fight a god, weakened or otherwise. The whole setup would be wonderful as the first chapter of a campaign, but that far in, it just doesn’t work. Particularly when the actual opening of the Amnesia Campaign sets the tension very high right off the bat, with extradimensional threats, shapeshifters, an evil cult, things that typically come later as things start to escalate.

This isn’t to say you can’t mix things up a little. Dealing with threats well below a party’s capabilities can be really nice as a chance to just sort of flex, and get some perspective on how much more capable they’ve grown over time, but you have to do it in a low-tension point of the narrative, and a little self-awareness about it doesn’t hurt.

Finally, while I really kinda hate modern wealth-by-level assumptions, they are baked into the design of the game, so if you’re running with it, you really need to make sure you’re really giving the players something they can use. The Amnesia Campaign really leans heavy on treasure being weird oddities that may be of value to a collector... while also being set, generally, in places so totally removed from civilization that shopping trips aren’t really practical. Much less those needing the party to really find the right sort of buyer.

Really, you want to give out entirely practical loot (really hard to do without knowing the party makeup, but variety can work), big piles of cash/sellables along with sufficiently large cities along the way for viable shopping, or raw materials suitable for crafting plus ample time to really do something with them.

Anyway, hopefully this has come across more as practical constructive advice for anyone writing a campaign, either as a printed product or just for your home game, not just me tearing into the Amnesia Campaign at length.

[eirenical]

Because @kingesstropolis was kind enough to ask me several questions from the character solidifying meme, and I decided to answer all of them for all four of my central characters, I thought I’d break them up.  Otherwise, these would be very VERY long posts.  XD

If anyone else would like to ask me questions, I welcome them!  Adesina, Braden, and Declan are a poly trio (FxMxM), and Lehana is a younger woman who comes to them for help.

And... here’s the second question!

11. How do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated?

Adesina: I don't think Adesina sees herself as intelligent in a classic way.  She was educated "on the job," so to speak?  She learned everything she needed to learn while doing it, and a lot of her people's histories are passed down orally by tradition, since storytelling is a good way to pass the time on long trips at sea or on land.  But she IS highly intelligent.  She has a mind like a steel trap, and she can suss out a lie from a mile away.  She's clever, even more than she's intelligent, if that makes sense.  She's very good at problem-solving and finding loopholes in arguments, and I'm thinking once the three of them settle down that one of her side jobs is offering legal advice for free.  But I think there's always going to be a part of her that feels she isn't as intelligent as she really is because she's lacking in that formal education and schooling.

Braden: Braden… Braden is highly educated—only child of landed wealthy merchants and all—but doesn't see himself as particularly intelligent, nor does he want to.  He's definitely the brawn of this operation.  No matter how hard his family pushed the books when he was younger, he pulled just as hard away in the direction of the captain of the guard. If it weren't for Declan helping him (and the captain convincing him that he could never join a proper guard company if he couldn't read his marching orders), he probably wouldn't have ever managed to learn to read.  Or write. Or do much of anything formal education-wise.  If we're going to dip into education, though, he DOES have high bodily-kinesthetic intelligence.  He's a very good fighter and a pretty decent strategist.  And though he enjoys a good story when Adesina or Declan can be convinced to share one, you generally won't catch him reading on his own.

Declan: (cribbing from a similar question I already answered once… ;D) Declan is intelligent, an intellectual, and very much book-smart. Due to having a magical gift that made him highly valuable, he led a relatively sheltered life.  Books were both his only escape from that life… and for an entirely different reason, the bane of his existence.  As a result, he spent much of his time with them, even as he resented them.  So, he learned a lot and significantly broadened his own horizons, but he never had a chance to run and play and engage with the world the way other children did.  That left a lot of his knowledge in the realm of the purely theoretical.  On some level, he very much resents his own intelligence, because he feels that—like the magical gift and the books it’s so wrapped up in—it’s the only thing for which he is valued.  And that magical gift he has is someday going to be the end of him.

Lehana: She's the second child of a ruling monarchy… she is highly, highly educated, and she knows it.  And flaunts it.  Whenever she has a chance.  She's gotten used to thinking of herself as the smartest person in the room, and the most clever.  She can debate circles around most of her mother's advisors by the time she's sixteen. She's well-read, she speaks several languages, and learned the art of diplomacy at her mother's knee.  It's a bit of a novelty for her when she meets Adesina and Declan, because they're definitely at least a match for her in that department.  Sometimes she'll start arguments with one of them just for fun.  Adesina will indulge her, but only to a point, but if she can get Declan going, he'll debate her all afternoon just because a) he can and b) they both enjoy it.

[orphidian]

𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙰 𝟶𝟹: 𝙽𝙰𝙼𝚀𝙸.

@solhunt​ said: what does namqi mean to orin and what influence did he have on her life? @mercysought​ said: tell us how namqi and orin started their relationship and how was it for her to feel for the first time that she didn't want to leave 

Their story is incredibly straight forward, and so is their love. Orin and Namqi meet not long after she arrived in the Last Safe City and left the Pilgrim Guard. He is Awoken, like her, which is a rare enough sight. Even rarer still, he wasn’t a Risen, but an Awoken of the Reef, a rather mysterious lot that keep to themselves, sharing their knowledge on weapons and medicine and agriculture with humanity but never revealing their home to those on Earth. Many people at this time would choose to avoid the Awoken whether they were Earthborn and Reefborn, so Namqi is surprised when Orin approaches him. She has an endless amount of questions for him, questions concerning their people, their home, and more. Over the course of two months—during which they repair his damaged Hildian together—she manages to convince him to bring her to the Reef, to break the queenslaw. Their initial connection is that strong. 

“Most of all, Orin is struck by his ability to listen with empathy. He is quiet more often than not. Long silences don't frighten him. And when he speaks, he does it deftly, without condescension.” — Queenslaw, Ecdysis

This is a direct comparison to the way Orin’s own speech is described earlier in the Ecdysis book, and explains why she finds herself so drawn to Namqi in the first place. She has finally found a mirror for her own empathy, someone who can point all of her own warmth back at her in full, someone she feels utterly comfortable opening up to. For Orin—who is intensely aware of how powerful words can be and how careless people can be in wielding them—this is incredible, and the feeling is mutual considering his willingness to go against Mara Sov’s laws by smuggling an Earthborn Awoken into the Reef. 

They’re caught almost instantly. Sjur Eido recognizes her old friend in Nasan in Orin, as does the Queen, who tells Orin her version of the rather tragic history of the Awoken. Namqi is given five years indentured service, wherein he gets to pick his service and negotiate his salary. Orin’s punishment is less severe, as she is not who she once was and so cannot be held accountable for her past oaths to the Queen. Instead, Mara demands a future debt of her choosing, of which Orin accepts. She is the first Guardian Mara ever trusts. 

Orin returns to Earth and keeps in daily contact with Namqi, begging him to come get her when he is finally released so that they can explore and figure out what humanity was trying to achieve before the Collapse and the Dark Ages. 

“They scour the inner planets in his Hildian. When parts of it break down, they work odd jobs.

They are deliriously happy.

Centuries pass.”   — Debt, Ecdysis

Realizing that she never wants to leave Namqi isn’t a sudden revelation. It simply never occurs to her that she should leave, and that feeling of claustrophobia never comes. She doesn’t feel that terrifying restlessness she’s felt before—partly because they spend most of their time exploring but mostly because she feels complete with Namqi in a way she hasn’t experienced before. Their love matures, deepens, expands. They invite others to join them, in their travels and their love. They ground each other, and never spend more than a few months apart.

Eventually Mara cashes in on the debt that Orin owes her, asking Orin to search for her lover Sjur Eido’s murderer. Her search leads her to an encounter with Xûr, and the beginning of her transformation into the Emissary. 

“Orin begins to experience waking hallucinations. Immaterial strangers speak to her in unrecognizable languages. When she reaches for Namqi, she feels as if she is falling into him, being pulled through him, sieved into smaller and smaller scarves of some atom-self that he breathes into the blood of his bones.” — Synesthesia, Ecdysis 

When Orin tries to explain what she’s experiencing to Namqi ( and Mara and Gol ) he gives her—to her ears—empty reassurances, and tries to convince her to stop searching for the Nine. Orin does not listen, and goes on without Namqi in her search. 

At this point in their relationship it’s not unusual for them to split off from each other. Orin is a part of the Firebreak Order, and so has duties concerning the City and the defense of its people by pushing into enemy territory. Namqi is still an Awoken of the Reef, and so has his own duties to the Queen and his people. They often go weeks or even months without seeing each other, sometimes without contact when in parts of the system that don’t permit communication. 

This time when they split though, Namqi doesn’t return. 

“On the day that Namqi dies, no one can reach her or Gol, though they do try.

She does not find out for months.” — Synesthesia, Ecdysis 

Namqi dies in what is assumed to be an aphelion attack on the RSS Armestris. The recovered transcriptions say they thought the hull was breached, and describe a “glowing creature” and something called “the stalking core” attacking the crew. The ship—examined by drones because of the high levels of radiation on the surface—shows no sign of a hull breach, no evidence of shots fired, no signs of alien or internal interference. And no survivors. 

When Orin eventually visits the Reef again, she is told of Namqi’s death, and taken to a room where she can listen to Namqi’s last recorded words. 

“On the day she meets Wu Ming, she is on Bamberga. She has just left a Gensym lab. She has just read a transcript of Namqi's last words. Her hands are shaking. She feels nauseous. She feels she can see herself in third-person, tottering to a safe place to sit and cry.” — Synesthesia, Ecdysis

“T-4: ORIN, IT'S ME, IT'S NAMQI. I DON'T THINK I'M COMING HOME, BABY. I'M SO SORRY. I'M, I'M, I JUST WANT TO TELL YOU THAT I LOVE [STATIC FOLLOWS]” — Bamberga, The Dreaming City

At this point the Nine are still very much “haunting” her, and between her grief and slow descent into madness, Orin finds comfort in a man named Wu Ming. She doesn’t recognize him anymore, doesn’t recognize the man she knew and loved hundreds of years ago when she was still with the Pilgrim Guard as Eli. He chooses to lean into that, at first it seems to get information about the Nine from her. It quickly evolves into something deeper, something consuming. Something ultimately built on a lie. 

And eventually Wu Ming can’t keep lying to Orin and tells her the truth: that he knows her, that they once knew each other, that he pretended to know Namqi, that he pretended not to know her. 

The Nine use Wu Ming’s revelation to their advantage, driving her away from him and into their grasp by exacerbating her own feelings of betrayal. Maybe even as a bargain, the Nine revealed a path to save Namqi, but that’s purely speculation.  

And while Orin succumbs to the transformation, she does not forget Namqi. In her most lucid states when she is the most herself, when she speaks and debates and argues with the Nine, she is thinking of Namqi. Even speaks as if he is listening.

“SAFE HARBOR IS VERY FAR AWAY

'Dogma. I'm sick of your dogma. I'll be just a little longer, Namqi.'” — Emissary, The Awoken of the Reef

This is mostly a method of coping. Orin has always existed as a liminal sort of being but as the Emissary she is even more so, to the point of beginning to lose sight of her own humanity. This is the inevitable outcome when who you are as a person has been pared down to the bone and taken over by beings incapable of understanding humanity. Namqi is the essence of love and empathy in her life. Speaking to him as if he were there with her helps ground her within the cold strangeness of Nine space, helps ground her within herself. 

“I’ll be just a little longer,” she says, and part of her believes that if he is dead then perhaps she will die soon too when the Nine are done with her, and go wherever he has gone. More likely—as Orin is not overtly spiritual and does not necessarily believe in an afterlife—she thinks she can save him. 

Whether this means the Nine were responsible for his death and merely made it seem otherwise and Orin knows this, or they have given Orin more knowledge about the aphelion and what might have become of Namqi and the rest of the crew of the Armestris is hard to say, though the latter seems more likely. In any case, she believes firmly that she will see him again. Whether dead or alive—for either of them—she can’t say. 

Namqi is everything to Orin. He is the first person in her many lives that she lets love her in return, fully. She’s always been open with giving her own love, but it’s always been partly used as a sort of defense mechanism. If she loves harder, when it inevitably fails, when she inevitably grows restless and leaves, it will hurt them less if she doesn’t let them love her as much as she loves them. 

But Namqi is the first instance of Orin opening herself to the terrifying notion of being completely known and fully loved. The first time she never worries about being made into something she’s not, something bigger than herself. The first time she doesn’t feel shackled by some nameless weight. He knows her, better than she knows herself. And she knows him the same way. 

Even in death he’s one of the only reasons she remains human. 

[clansayeed]

The Price ― a Bound by Destiny drabble

⥼ Summary ⥽

Nadya's visions of the past are starting to take their toll, but Adrian is always there to help her recover. A century ago Gaius makes sure Adrian stays loyal to him through manipulative means.

note: This piece takes place in the year between Bound by Destiny I & II, and sheds a little more light on how Nadya coped with her visions before she knew the truth; as well as offering a glimpse into the Trinity’s movements during the 1910s.

The flashback that takes up the second half of this piece references a real historical event, but all implications, names, and the like are purely fictitious in nature and should not be taken as fact.

word count: 2,518 rating: teen+ content warnings: references to past emotional manipulation/abuse, death, grief, mention of physical violence (brief), historical references find out more: HERE

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

[READ IT ON AO3]

“Nadya?”

Her eyes are watering; sting with the burn of being held open. When she blinks it off the barest beginnings of tears cling to her lashes.

A dark blue handkerchief is held out in offering before she can even reach for her desk drawer.

“Here, just use this,” comes Adrian’s voice above her — that bare hint of concern he always seems to carry. The hallmark trait of the kindest of hearts.

“I don’t want to get mascara on it.”

“Nadya.”

“Okay, okay — fine.”

She half expects that to be that. Instead feels Adrian’s eyes on her while she takes delicate care and attention not to mess up her wingtip because it had taken a full hour that afternoon and sometimes a girl just has to be proud of a steady hand.

Only when she’s sure her hard work is spared does she look at her boss properly. Gives him a sheepish, ashamed smile because there’s no way he’s getting the dark smears out of silk. “I’ll buy you a new one?”

Because she’d go crazy if she doesn’t offer, and Adrian will humor her with a chuckle and a nod because he’s kind like that. But they both know he has half a dozen back at his loft and it doesn’t really matter. Even with all of his years of wealth he’s remained an admirable type of level-headed and frugal.

But he surprises her in pushing their usual witty banter aside, doesn’t just take the pocket square back but instead covers her hand with his. Only in his steady hold does she realize she’s shaking.

Where did that come from?

“Are you okay?” That tone should only be reserved for dire situations — like being chased through a secret museum by a crazed politician or when she caught on the news that the Grumpy Cat had passed away. Not for this.

She nods, lets him take the crumpled fabric and brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes. A careful tactic many young girls learn early to hide their expressions for just long enough to steel them into cooperating.

“Of course I am —”

But of course he doesn’t let her finish. “You were crying.”

“No I wasn’t.”

“So what would you call that?”

“Seeing how long I can go without blinking.”

Okay she totally gets it if that does the exact opposite of putting him off the investigation because it’s a crappy excuse. One even she doesn’t believe. And it’s just crappy enough to convey the message I don’t want to talk about it.

He’s both silent and loud all at once. Says everything he needs to say in the slight furrow in his brow; the way the left side of his mouth is just a little pulled back.

You know you can tell me anything. You know I’m here for you. Adrian doesn’t say it because he doesn’t have to — because he knows she gets it. Risking your life sneaking into a vampire dungeon and taking on a pair of very weird recluse vamps does pretty well in establishing that you’d do anything for someone.

I know. Instead she smiles, pushes her chair back a little so she isn’t getting neck cramps looking at him. “How was the meeting?”

Its slow going to get him actually talking. He knows its a distraction tactic, doesn’t want to take away from the fact he walked in on her pretty much fully zonked out with tears in her eyes. Lucky for her the meeting went, quote, “better and more productive than thought possible,” and once they get out of the office tonight he can head down to the Shadow Den with only good news to give Jax. Lucky because it means she can keep up said tactic with question after question until he definitely can’t waste any more time, needs to make a few calls to this company and that contributor, and if she’s sure she’s okay and doesn’t need to take the rest of the night off then he’s going to go get that done.

Though he stops mid-stride into his office and that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. So close to getting away with it.

“Did you happen to mention to Lily about my idea for the memorial?”

The only reason she doesn’t exhale in audible relief is because it would put her right back at square one. “Yeah — and she agrees. She’s just waiting until after Halloween to bring it up to Mari in case Mari doesn’t agree.”

“Why would Halloween have anything to do with it?” Adrian asks, puzzled.

“Because it’s Halloween.”

“And?”

“‘And’ you’ve met Lily, right? Lily Spencer, my roommate? The girl who loves horror things more than life itself? Who definitely has something weird and probably kinky planned with hers and Mari’s couple costumes that I specifically begged her not to give me the details of?”

Yeah, her face at the time looked a little like Adrian’s does now. Neither of them prudish by any means but there are some things better left to the people involved and not their entire friend group.

“Of course. You’ll let me know though when she —”

“Relax,” she gives him an easy smile with a hidden meaning — he can relax about her too, “you’re overthinking it. Jax made you promise to make life better for the Clanless and you’re sticking to it because you believe in the cause. Even if they talk and decide they don’t want a plaque of names on the plaza fountain, that doesn’t devalue what you’re doing to help.”

Sometimes he just has to be reminded that what he’s doing is enough. More than, in Nadya’s opinion, but Adrian’s just… just a good person. And good people never think they’re doing enough.

And if what scraps Kamilah has given her over the months are any indication, Adrian isn’t entirely to blame for his self-sacrificing nature.

But their Maker is already taken care of. All she can do now is be there, be supportive, and help them heal the wounds Gaius gave them.

Now he’s the one looking a bit ashamed. “Thank you.” He means it more than mere language can provide. She knows that.

Leaves her alone with her work and her thoughts as he makes sure his office door is closed behind him like he always does when he’s going to be making calls. It’s probably the most normal profession-related thing they do together; give each other space when there’s real work that needs doing.

And her thoughts have been itching in wait for the chance to overwhelm her when they can. They try to needlessly, relentlessly. Teasing like a schoolyard bully — offering the things she can’t quite recall in a treasure chest at her feet before sending it slamming shut and to the depths of her mind before she can even catch a glimpse.

Thats the hardest part about these stupid visions of hers. They consume her mind and even sometimes her body — as evidenced by the zombie-Nadya that met Adrian following his return. They make her feel things she’s never felt and experience sensations, actions she’s never acted upon and for good reason.

No one should have to know what it feels like to slaughter hundreds, thousands of people — to keep the blood on their hands and not only that but savor it like a trophy — not when the very thought of hurting anyone at all sends their stomach into knots.

But thanks to them she has a body count and is still too meek to tell the midnight door guard that her name isn’t ‘Nadine.’

On a whole she forgot the details after the vision passed. At first.

But they want to be seen. They want to be remembered.

So Nadya does what she always does. Listens intently until she can hear Adrian dutifully on the phone in his office, makes sure the coast is clear before she digs into the hidden pocket in her purse — pulls out her dark secret and grabs for a pen.

She jots down all she can remember — which isn’t much this time, thank Christ — on the back of the entry she’d scribbled that morning before Kamilah could wake up and discover her shame. Pens in the date at the top corner and tucks the journal away without letting herself linger on just how full that terrible little book is getting.

At this rate she’ll need to start a new one before Christmas.

New York City, 1911

He doesn’t miss the look Kamilah gives him out of the corner of her eye. Nose crinkled and lashes heavy — repulsed with the thing between his lips and yet, almost as if against her will, made to recall other better things he had done with that same mouth.

His darling Queen abhors cigarettes, has told him as much in complaints of kisses that quickly turn into moans of desire, of satisfaction. Something about the smoke and memories of a history called ancient now — it was so long ago. Scrolls turned to ash and scattered to the winds; knowledge and lives lost together. But history cared about one of those things more than the other. Kamilah, too.

And so he stares back; tempts her to say something about it. If she really has such a problem with smoke then she’s in the wrong place.

Instead she turns her focus on the blackness still billowing up towards the night sky all these hours later.

“Is this…?”

“Yes.”

She snaps a sharp look his way. “And does Adrian know?”

Behind them a fire engine carriage goes ballistic with noise; the horses trapped in their harnesses despite their rearing, their whinnies high-pitched and filled with a familiar terror. Yet if one were to glance at the commotion they wouldn’t find the source of their startled fear. There are no snakes on the paved roads beneath their hooves. No whips lashing at them from the hands of overworked masters.

Gaius and Kamilah don’t have to look to know where their predator is.

He sucks on the filter of his cigarette heavy. “He does now.”

“Poor taste, my love.”

“A necessary evil.”

“Committed by an evil equally so?”

Gaius doesn’t have to breathe for her to know she’s spoken out of turn. She sees it in the shift of his stance. The way he decides he’s done with her attention for the moment and trains his eyes forward instead.

Families, friends, passersby are still mourning loudly at the fire and the lives it took.

His beloved Soldier now among them — jaw slack at the loss of human life. All these years and Gaius has yet to really beat that sentiment for the human condition out from under his skin. The wail his fellow vampires can hear even from their distance that grows with each second it takes to realize just which building caught on fire earlier that day, which floors were consumed in the blaze, and who was among them.

Adrian crumples to his knees in grief. Its a sight his Maker takes no pleasure in despite any — even his Queen — who might accuse otherwise. She knows better though — chooses not to start an argument already lost and rushes forward to console her brother in blood at his loss.

“It’s okay Adrian,” her lies carry on the wind with the rest of the remains of the factory blaze, “I’m so sorry for your loss, but we will endure. We always have.”

It pains Gaius to hear the crack in his Soldier’s voice when he musters the ability to speak; “She — Kamilah—I— she can’t be —”

But she was. She had been a distraction; an influence Gaius hadn’t approved of yet a reason for Adrian to commit heresy for still. The proof was right before his eyes — all that weakness bubbling just under the surface of Adrian’s skin now burst forth.

One day Adrian would understand he had done this for the best. For the greater good of their Kingdom.

Gaius tosses the remains of the cigarette aside — goes to grind it to a powder under his foot but another beats him to it. The boot is brown yet black with soot.

“You really ought to change, lest you be discovered and accused.”

“Accused of what?” lilts the vampire behind him, “a bad spark and scrap bin started the fire, or haven’t you been listening in on the police’s conclusions?”

Gaius looks passed the tall young man to where indeed a group of officials are gathered. They must think they’re speaking in hushed tones. Fools.

“A novel idea. Now they won’t be searching mindlessly for a suspect.”

“I wouldn’t care much if they did. We depart tonight for England.”

But he wouldn’t be making idle conversation if there was nothing important to say. Makes Gaius drag his eyes upwards to see himself reflected in spectacles diligently cleaned of evidence from their time sparking the very flames the Vampire King of New York needed to ensure Adrian’s loyalty stayed where it belonged. With him.

“Speak, if you have words.”

The vampire inhales deep. “I did as you asked. Now tell me what I need to hear.”

Because he can, because its fun, he feigns ignorance. “And what would that be, dear Cynbel?” And he quickly learns the Trinity’s temper is true to rumor.

“Tell me Valdas has your permission to leave this fucking cesspool!”

“Why would I wish for my oldest Child to leave my side — especially when my plans are nearly ready to be enacted?”

“Because I did as you asked for that sole purpose!”

It’s a struggle Gaius has never known; the desire to act but the bone-deep acceptance of a singular truth. That he can’t. He can’t attack Gaius; the progenitor of his beloved so-called deity. Not only in strength but in sheer force of will. There was a time, once… long ago when he knew he would never achieve the level of power, of love, that consumed him at the sight of the One who set him free…

But that was history that made ancient look newly born.

“I am a man of my word, even if Valdemaras is not,” he waves flippantly — bored now with those fools and their notions of eternal love, “he has my permission to leave.”

Cynbel visibly deflates. “Thank you, Godmaker.”

“Though I will expect more than a favor should you three wish to join my Kingdom when it comes time. I remember those who stay loyal.”

The younger vampire surprises him when he casts a look back to his charred masterpiece; to where Kamilah has taken knee beside Adrian in an attempt to shoulder some of his burden.

“I’ve seen the price that loyalty to you demands. A high price indeed.”

He’s smart — flees before his insolence earns him Gaius’ wrath. It doesn’t matter to him either way.

To have his Queen, his Soldier standing at his side and basking in the glory of his Kingdom? There is nothing he would not do.

Everything he does is for Her, still.

[this-geek]

Dialogue prompts, Major Crimes, 21? Thank you 💜

Okay, this took a bit longer but I had to fact check a little and I only have my phone with me. I hope this is good.

Apologies if there are any errors cultural or grammatical.

I'm not 100% sure this is plausible but this is fanfiction so I don't care as long as its fun, right?

21: "Sometimes, being a complete nerd comes in handy" 

In an attempt to have the divisions of the LAPD work in better harmony together a New Year Quiz had been organised. The divisions had had a week to submit answers for 10 questions then there would be a New Year's Party where every division had to have some people there to answer a further 20 questions which would determine who would win the secret prize promised to them by Pope. 

Now the major Crimes division had struggled somewhat with the initial questions due to the level of tension coursing through the group who were still adjusting to the change in commanding officer. Captain Raydor had tried to promote it and Amy along with Sanchez and Buzz tried to contribute something but the influence of Provenza had dampened their enthusiasm but it got done. Nobody had wanted to go to the party but Flynn felt a bit bad and offered to go with the Captain who despite her professional exterior had seemed quite excited at the idea of a party. 

They had driven to venue separately but managed to arrive at almost the same time. He watched her get out of her car and grabbed a small bag; she was wearing her black coat that had become familiar over the years. She smiled at him. 

"Lieutenant, you didn't have to come. I could have represented is just fine on my own" they walked in together Andy shaking his head a little. 

"That would have defeated the purpose of team spirit Captain. I don't mind a little quizzing anyway" he explained and held open the door. They quickly found a seat and looked at the question sheet which didn't have the questions laid out which probably meant they'd have a live host read them out. 

"So, how is you general knowledge?" Andy asked glancing round the room at the other officers laughing and chatting amongst themselves. 

"I know a decent amount of knowledge that might help" she shrugged and glanced in the same direction as Flynn was looking, "it's not great just the two of us is it?" she rolled her lips and placed her hands on the table lacing her fingers

"It's not your fault…" 

"but it is because I am the commanding officer. I should be able to bring my team together" she interrupted, her voice quiet and almost bitter as though she were annoyed with herself. In a move he didn't expect himself to make he took her hand and squeezed it. 

"then let's win this quiz together and show our team that we all could have had a good time together" Sharon nodded her eyes wide as she glanced at their hands clasped together. He dropped her hand and went to the bar getting them both a drink. 

Andy couldn't help but stare at her, she was actually really good at quizzing. The movie questions had been water off a ducks back and he'd barely said a thing during the music round. In the penultimate history round he had tried to help but she had shut him down quickly; she was a bigger nerd than he ever thought her to be. Knowing the law off by heart was clearly just the start of Sharon Raydor's knowledge. 

"Captain, how do you know all this stuff about the civil war and the war of independence?" he asked as she tallied up their score so far. She shrugged. 

"It won't shock you that I wasn't the most popular person in school; it was better in college but high school my first friend was the librarian. She'd recommend so many books. I think it stuck because my mother was a teacher too so learning was central in my life growing up" She smiled mentioning her mother. Flynn seemed almost shocked, he would be lying if he said he'd never assumed that the Captain's mother was more of a lady of leisure. 

"What did she teach?" he asked, while they had the chance to talk. 

"She taught maths, that was her speciality but after she retired she helped run a community programme for children who did not have ready access to education, I had to help too" she added turning their paper over to the final general knowledge questions space. 

"Ah, so you were a bit of nerd and it carried through to now" he joked at her but she didn't quite see it as funny as him. Her eyes rolled, she was not impressed. 

"Alright folks here is your last question," Pope announced, "which country did Chinese Checkers originate from?" Andy scoffed and started writing but the pen was quickly slapped from his hand. In neat writing Sharon wrote Germany. 

"um, captain the clue is in the name" Andy whispered trying to take the pen from her. 

"no, I'll tell you why in a minute" the sheets were handed in and Sharon turned to explain but heard some others boasting about the answers they put down. She rolled her eyes she knew she was right anyway. Andy came over to her. 

"it's only one question" he muttered as he drank his cranberry juice. 

"it's not, Chinese checkers comes from Germany and was renamed by Americans to sound more exotic. Had the question been a bout Chinese chess the answer would have been China but it was not" she replied matter of factly. Andy shhook his head he did not believe her at all. Music started and people started to get up and dance. 

"you can find someone to dance with" Sharon smiled happily nursing her 2nd glass of wine. Andys head shook. 

"so what did your father do?" he asked turning to her. She looked at him her head tilted, her lips rolled and she placed her glass on the table. 

"he was JAG. He went to Law school, passed the bar but wanted something else so he joined the Judge advocate General Corp. Both my parents have a love of learning and education, my brother is a doctor. What about your family? "she explained, Andy watched surprising Sharon in his interest. 

"My old man was a…" he was interrupted by Pope clearing his throat at the mic, the music being turned down. 

"Now then before we welcome the new year quickly I want to thank all for coming and tell you who has won the soon to be annual quiz. In third place with 23/30 is Robbery Homicide," there was a pause as the division went up to collect a trophy and a small envelope." in second place with 25 is Forensic Sciences" again a pause occured so the group could collect their trophy and envelope "now first place, just pipped the post by 1 point it is Major Crimes" Sharon smiled Andy pulling him up from his chair. She took the trophy from Pope with, a smile that if you did not like her would you'd say was a shit eating grin but if you did; as Andy did, you would say it was a giddy and quite excitable grin. 

The two returned to their table and opened their envelope to find a voucher for some fancy restaurant and by the look of it, it had enough for the whole division to have something. Andy chuckled

"I suggest we tell everyone we lost and keep this for us, and Rusty if he wanted to join" he rushed to add, although if he was being honest he would mind have dinner alone with the captain at all. 

"we can't do that, can we?" she started to chuckle. Her expression changed suddenly and she rushed from the table returning moments later with the marked question sheet her grin went smug as she pointed to the final question. 

"would you look at that, sometimes being a complete nerd comes in handy" as she boasted her win over Andy, the man in question realised the countdown to New Year had begun. He congratulated Sharon and as the countdown reached one he took a chance, kissing her cheek. 

"I really want to spend that dinner voucher on us, our win" he whispered in her ear. She looked at him and maybe it was the wine or the joy of outsmarting someone but she kissed his cheek and agreed  to go to dinner with him.

[kdtheghostwriter]

SNK #119 - Jaeger ni Kissu

Let me get some Fs in the chat, pls.

So, what the hell? Shiganshina am I right? What’s the deal with that crazy place, huh?

You would think this fandom, more than all the others, would be used to getting the slider when they expect a fastball. (That’s right! I know baseball stuff!) Even I have to admit, though, Isa got me with this one. It’s all pretty thrilling to me as a reader. I’ll explain why later but first, some housekeeping. Remember when I said this a few months ago? That Eren’s expression was less relieved and more shocked leaning toward concerned? Welp.

Arm extended; mouth agape. The universal signs of “No, not that you asshole!” It’s also masterful paneling to have Colt’s cry of “Wait!” superimposed onto the Attack Titan, which we know can’t speak. Eren was mortified by the idea of his hometown being overrun with Titans yet again. That was hardly surprising. What did surprise me was Zeke’s look of shock as the Grice brothers revealed themselves. He still screamed, of course, as should have been expected. But that moment of hesitation…hmm. I guess he really did like Colt. It’s not out of the question. He just liked his plan more.

And since we’re on the topic, I’d like some words about this panel right here.

Dammit all, this one hit more than any of the others for me. See, Zeke, it’s not just you who understands the joys and the sorrows and the burdens of being an older brother. I do myself. Falco realized what was about to happen and tried to save his brother’s life by pushing him away. Colt refused and held him tighter.

Don’t worry, Falco! Your big brother will always be with you!

Fuck me, how am I supposed to keep my chill after a scene like that? Sure enough, Colt was scorched as his brother transformed into a mindless, lumbering monster which transitions me nicely into something else I said in the aftermath of #117. Someone did indeed have to die. I only guessed wrong who.

Reiner is going to survive this manga whether he wants to or not. More importantly, what a champion Porco is. Knew he was cooked, so he put all his energy into healing his body. Then he left the cockpit to distract Falco’s Titan and save two people. The fact that he did this right after seeing the memory of his brother confessing to Reiner that he lied is no accident. He wasn’t just proving to Reiner he was better; he was getting one back at his big brother. It’s equal parts heroic and tragic which is par for the course of this series. He died in almost the exact same way Marcel did all those years ago – saving Reiner’s dumbass from being nommed up. I’ll miss you Porco, but at least you’ll live on in the memories of the little one.

 Speaking of little ones: maybe we should start calling her “Deadeye” Gabi Braun. This was such an inspired choice. Not just because of who pulled the trigger in the end (and partly because of whose gun she used), which got the intended reaction, but also because of who she hit. I thought for sure she would have taken aim for Zeke. It would have made sense. A wounded, stationary target is a lot easier to mark than one sprinting at full speed. (That’s what MGS3 taught me at least.) She’s a soldier, though, and the main reason she hijacked the blimp in Liberio was to kill The Usurper. It’s unclear to me if Magath’s mission here is strictly Dead or Alive or if they were trying to capture him but either way her mission, for now, appears to be accomplished. I say “appears to be” because it’s time for my favorite monthly mini-game:

WHY, SWAY, WHY??

There’s a lot we don’t know yet about Titan powers, Eldian biology and the transference from one vessel to another. If Marley’s goal specifically was to recapture the Founder instead of simply stopping Eren from using it, this is what Zeke would call a miscalculation. We know that Titan Powers get transferred Avatar-style to a rando newborn Eldian when a Shifter dies before succession. I actually believe there’s a lot of story left to go. But! There isn’t enough left to now try and track down, out of all the Eldians still in the world, which one holds this terrifying power. (That would make a great AU, though.) Not to mention, we don’t know what happens in the case of a Shifter holding more than one power. Do all three Titans go to one child? Do they get split up back into three by the P A T H S? We don’t know. All of this is reason to expect some chicanery in the next few months or so. Besides any of that we are no closer to knowing what Eren’s true intentions are in regards to why he wants to use the Founder. Isayama Hajime is absolutely the kind of author to blast his main character into oblivion before the story has concluded. He is not the kind of author to leave a stone unturned. We found out about the Shifters and we found out about the basement. Whatever knowledge was revealed to him will not be kept secret, even if it isn’t by his own hand.

Sidebar: decapitation is weird, even in messy circumstances like this one. The electric signals in the brain often keep firing for minutes after the head has been removed. This is how beheaded snakes continue to hiss and bite after the fact. My troll prediction would be Eren’s head landing in Zeke’s hand like so many baseballs in his lifetime; the Coordinate is activated and Shiganshina proceeds to have a bad time.

I don’t know, folks. I couldn’t help but think of one very important rule as I read the closing pages.

Always Double Tap, dude. Gabi just had to go for the swag. See, if she had popped Eren’s head like a bloody firework I would have said, “Welp, you had a good run, kid.” But nope. You went and left the most powerful being in existence an outside outside chance of survival, and if he does, even for a few seconds more, everybody is screwed.

No segue, I just love these two teaming up. It makes sense that Mikasa and Armin have gotten closer as Eren has gotten more distant. I think seeing how that dynamic evolves as the story builds to its conclusion will be very important. For now, on the surface level, they just really care for each other.

 The last time I got a feeling like this, I was a young lad watching Samurai Jack in the early 00s. I would watch every week without fail on the Cartoon Network, engrossed for the entire runtime. And then, oh, the long and nagging wait. I can admit that having most stuff On Demand is impossibly handy for this particular moment in history, but goddamn do I remember having to wait a whole ass week for my favorite show to come back. Fans of Shingeki no Kyojin don’t realize how good they have it.

Replicating that feeling is almost impossible, not just because of how product is released now. Every story has been told before, in some way. Sometime in the last Millenia or so, our slimy lizard brains have come to expect certain beats and structure from stories. It makes the stories good, but also predictable. I can tell you as a writer, it’s so very difficult to find a way to surprise people in a genuine and engaging way.

This is going to sound more cold and callous than intended but, it does involve manipulating an audience to achieve your desired outcome. You want to lead them to the place you want to go and let them think it was their plan all along. This is the Art of Storytelling: I know what you want better than you do. This involves knowing your audience, and I think it’s safe to say after his “I want to hurt people with this,” comment that no writer on the planet right now knows his audience better than Isayama.

Fans of SNK should be happy. I’ve said this before: it isn’t the best book out right now (that’s still OPM, read that shit) but it is the most unpredictable. That doesn’t always make a story good, but in this case, it’s the greatest factor. Feel free to speculate and discuss. That’s what fandom is for. Just give up now on trying to work out what comes next. Only one person knows that. Isa has had this story plotted out for years with diversions here and there. We won’t know until it all ends. Enjoy this ride now. I can promise you we will never see anything like this manga ever again.

  Stray Thoughts

- Still no Kyomi. Still no Tiny Queen. I know the main character just got his head yeeted but let’s get some deets now, pls.

- I was so looking forward to the memes and am happy to report that I wasn’t let down. Well done, friends.

- The 104th Squad continues to persist, as does Yelena. We’ll earmark this for later.

- The fact that both the Jaeger Brothers got shot before Floch Forster is high dark comedy.

- In a battle this chaotic, things like skill and experience are often nullified. It makes perfect sense that Eren would be caught off-guard by a soldier he didn’t even know was there, child though she may be. Right place, wrong time. These Things Happen.

- Armin taking out the Cart’s turret gun was a slick little callback to when he bought time for Eren to take down Bertolt.

- I’m interested in Armin’s game plan here. Marley’s infantry is about to be overrun by Titans, so what else does he aim to do? And how will Yelena interfere?

- Nile said he wouldn’t see his family again. We all knew he was right but man, the look on his face when his number was called. That’s tough. Shout-outs to Pixis, getting one last sip in. You a real one.

[thebookkeeperslibrary]

Lost Time: Chapter 1

Fandom: Time Warp Trio

Author: The_Bookkeeper_96

Rating: T

Summary: Another summer at Horae Manor begins, but before Joe and Tessa get the chance to train, they are sent out on a mission to explore the magic capital of the universe, Mancika. Rumors of illegal magic conversion spread throughout the city, and Joe and Tessa need to locate those responsible. But after the events of last summer, Joe isn't eager to work with his Aether partner, and the two are struggling more with each other than with their enemies.

A/N: It’s finally here! And I even got it up before the end of the year like I said I would. Enjoy!

I’m trying out a slightly different writing style this time around, so please let me know what you think!

Read on AO3

-----

Preview:

"It is said that all the Greats are connected. Some even believe they are one soul inhabiting nine bodies that is reincarnated every generation. I, however, in studying the history of the most closely connected Greats, those that control Aether and Time, believe that they are not one soul. Rather, they are inimitable individuals who are highly bonded to one another through the magics that unite us all. However, there is evidence to suggest that the Greats possess the ability to communicate with the Greats of the past."  Excerpt from A History of the Horae Greats, Introduction by Petra Abell

Last night I dreamt I was a king again. At least, I assume I was a king. I suppose I could have been an emperor or a lord or something, but I'm going to go with king for now.

As always, the dream starts like any other dream, a bunch of nonsensical scenes that somehow make sense while you're asleep, but when you wake up, you realize how crazy it all was. This time, I only got to enjoy a few bites of delicious marshmallow pizza with Babe Ruth before I was pulled away into the throne room.

The room looks the same as it always does. I sit up high on a marble throne painted green. There are nine other thrones spread out on either side of me all painted different colours. On the floor beneath me, an intricately carved flower is engraved into the tile.

I have no idea what kind of flower it's supposed to be. A lotus, maybe? I don't pay enough attention in biology class to know all my plants. And it's not like knowing that kind of stuff is going to help me out in life anyway. Sam would disagree and argue that everything we learn in school is important, why else would they teach it to us?

I am not alone in the throne room, and unfortunately, it's not Babe Ruth with the rest of our pizza. Instead, I gaze forward and see a long line of people each holding a random object. One man is holding a golden trophy. A woman farther down the line is leaning on a grandfather clock. The first person in line is holding an hourglass, the sand slowing slipping into the bottom. That's the only thing that changes with these dreams. The hourglass seems fuller and fuller every night. For a time traveller, that might be a bad omen. For the future Warp Wizard, it's definitely a bad omen.

One by one, the people in line vanish into nothing starting at the back of the line. They all fade until it's just me and the hourglass holder. I open my mouth to ask them all of my questions, but no sound comes out.

Sometimes, we stare at each other for what feels like hours. Other times, only a few minutes. But the dream always ends the same way.

The room darkens, shrinking down on us. The darkness creeps closer and closer until it's suffocating me, and I wake with a scream.

---

My body lurches up, my hand flying to my chest to make sure my heart is still inside. I take several steadying breaths as I glance around my room. Everything is exactly the way I left it the night before. Clothes in a messy pile by the door, backpack flung under my desk, and The Book sits on my nightstand, unopened.

Sighing in relief, I fall back onto my pillow. How many people wake up each day and are glad to stop dreaming?

I blindly fumble around for my phone and eventually find it on the floor. Before I even turn the screen on, I know exactly what time it is: eight thirty-six. If I really concentrate I can feel the seconds tick by. My phone screen blares to life and confirms what I already know.

After a whole year of being "magically awakened", all I have to show for it is always knowing the time and having disturbingly bright green eyes that practically glow in the dark.

My eyes wander back to The Book, landing on two small slips of paper sticking out of the top. Without thinking about it, I pull them out and read the words that I've seen a hundred times before.

Dear Joe,

Sorry to leave in mid-warp. I had some urgent business to attend to.

~ Uncle Joe

P.S. Congratulations on graduating to the next level! You are now a time page.

The edges of the letter are worn thin and torn. The pocket watch that came with my promotion rests next to The Book. Uncle Joe's been missing for over a year, and despite my best efforts, I can't find any clues as to where he is. It's becoming harder to believe he's okay and still alive.

I grind my teeth together. I know he's alive. My uncle is too clever and good at magic to be dead. He's just busy on some magic mission or something. Maybe even fighting off my other uncle, Mad Jack, who's also been MIA the past year.

I unfold the other piece of paper I keep stored in The Book. The gold script on the invitation is just as dazzling as it was when I first opened it last summer. I don't look at this one as often, other than a few random attempts to warp back to Horae Manor, it pretty much stays in my book.

Dear Mr. Joseph Arthur,

We would like to formally invite you and your closest friends to Horae Manor. A place for the magically inclined and gifted. Where people like you can learn to hone your craft.

We request that you join us at your earliest convenience. Time is of the essence.

Sincerely, 

WW

Now that normal school is officially done for the year, I'm going back to Horae Manor soon. Soon as in today, and I have no idea how I'm supposed to get there. Hopefully, the letter will do its thing again, and Fred, Sam, and I will just be warped there. But something told me that wasn't going to work this time. Rowena and Cassius probably expected me to warp myself there, maybe like some kind of test? To see if I'd been practising my time magic while I was away or reading any of the books Cassius lent me.

Had I been practising my magic? Yes, not that I'd had any real progress. Had I read any of the books Cas told me to? Yes. Well… not exactly. To be fair, I did skim through them, but there was a lot to read and take in. My normal school teachers wouldn't really understand if I skipped out on their assigned homework to do magic homework instead. Not that I could ask them to find out. I really hope my summer at Horae doesn't start with a pop quiz.

Maybe I could do a little last-minute cramming before it was time to go. I have a lot to learn if I want to catch up with Tessa.

The thought of my Aether partner makes me frown. She had gotten to Horae first because my letter had been sent to the wrong person. She also seemed to be just naturally gifted with magic. She could already tear herself pretty much anywhere she wanted and could manipulate space to create mazes to confuse and trap people. People like me.

I think back on everything that had happened last summer. Had I overreacted with Tessa? Maybe a little, but she had proven herself to be untrustworthy and selfish. We went from friends to enemies pretty quickly after that. Part of me wishes I could change out partners. I really don't want to be stuck with Tessa for the rest of my life. 

I collapse back on my bed with a heavy sigh. This summer hasn't even started yet, and I'm already done with it.

---

Time passes by quicker than I want it to. Maybe Cas can show me how to change that. Before I know it, it's after four in the afternoon and Fred and Sam are knocking on my door. Like always, Fred saunters into the room without waiting for a reply.

I shut the book that I've been staring at all day, the words still swimming before my eyes. I'd barely made a dent in it. Cas had given me five thick books packed with magical knowledge. There was a whole other world out there filled with magic users, literally. It was called Mancika. And there are more kinds of magic than just space and time. There are ten in total. Or was it nine? All the details were blurred together in my mind. I somehow had even more questions than I did before I started learning about magic and reading about its history.

I slipped the book into my backpack along with all the others I didn't read. My Warp Wizard mentor will not be happy with me.

I turn around to greet my friends, but Fred beats me to it. "Hey, dude. How excited are you right now? I am so ready to get back to Horae Manor. Man, I bet Cassius and Rowena have some amazing magic kung-fu skills they're going to show us this year. I mean, you guys saw how well Arwen fought off that drake last summer. I can't wait to kick some magic monster butt."

I shake my head at him. "You just can't stand that a Red Sox fan is stronger and cooler than you."

His cheeks flush. "She is not!"

"Sure."

Fred crashes on to my bed, mumbling something to himself that I can't fully hear. But I'm sure it's something about how much the Red Sox suck, and why anyone would be a fan of them over the Yankees is insane.

I nod to Sam, who smiles at me in greeting. "I'm actually pretty excited to head back too. Did you know Horae Manor has a library? I can't wait to learn about all the science of magic and history of it all."

"The science of magic?" I raise an eyebrow at him. "I don't think there is any science. It's magic. Kinda the opposite."

"Of course there's science. Nothing can break the rules of physics. Not even magic."

I roll my eyes, deciding not to argue. With Sam, you can't really convince him that he's wrong.

I grab the letter off my desk, hoping for something to happen. Of course, nothing does. Time to face the other problem I've been avoiding: how to get back to Horae Manor.

"You don't know how to get us there, do you?" Sam asks, guessing my thoughts.

I blush. "I totally do. I just need a second to, uh, figure out how to do it."

"We're never going to get back there, are we?" Fred turns to Sam, who nods in response.

"Hey! I can do this. I am the future Warp Wizard after all. Just give me a moment."

"And what I great Warp Wizard you'll be," Sam sighs.

"Oh, I don't know, I think with a little training Joe could be a great Warp Wiz. Of course, with me by his side, we'd be a swell pair," a new voice says.

We all jump. I slam my knee against the bottom of my desk, hissing in pain, and gingerly try to massage it away. My eyes narrow at the intruder. A mix of emotions fight it out in my chest. Anger ultimately wins out.

Tessa giggles from where she's perched on my window. "Missed you too, bunny."

"How did you get here?" Fred asks.

"The same way I get around everywhere. Magic. Duh." She flips her auburn hair over her shoulder and slides into my room. Her eyes roam around, inspecting everything, and land on my Houdini poster. "Cute," is all she says. Whatever, it's not like I care what she thinks. 

"Thanks," I say dryly. "Why are you here?"

She spreads her arms out wide, ever the showwoman. Her signature red leather jacket is like a cape on her. "Isn't it obvious? I'm your ride to Horae Manor. Seeing as you and Cas haven't started any real training yet, you can't exactly warp yourself there."

I press my lips together and decide to keep quiet. This summer, I'm going to start my magic training, and by the end of it, I'll be just as good as her. No, better than her. I had so many questions for Cas, and I'll finally be practising magic. Real magic. Tricks that I can use to find Uncle Joe.

"So, are you ready to go? Cas is kind of a bluenose when it comes to being on time. As if he can't just make more of it." Tessa rolls her eyes.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and stand up. "Yeah, I guess." truthfully, I'm just as excited as Fred and Sam are to return, but I'm not planning on letting my guard down around Tessa. I square my shoulders and stare at my Aether partner. We're supposed to be partners for life, but neither of us signed up for this. We can be civil with each other, but until I know I can trust her, I have no desire to be her friend.

She stares back, frowning. I almost feel bad for her. Almost. "Are you going to be like this all summer?" she asks, guessing my thoughts. "You know we're stuck with this for the rest of our lives, right?" She gestures between the two of us, referring to our Great Wizard commitment. "And I did apologize."

Fred wraps his arm around my shoulders, pushing me over with his sudden weight. "Joe will be fine. He's just a little butt-hurt over everything that happened last time. He'll get over it."

I shove his arm off of me. "We should get going. It's already four thirty-six."

"What? No exact second this time?" Sam teases me, drawing attention to my weird ability.

I look down at the ground and can feel my face heat up. So far, none of my new abilities had proven useful for anything other than being teased by my supposed friends.

Tessa tilts her head, her purple eyes never leaving my green ones. "Would you like to know our exact latitude and longitude coordinates right now? Or how about our exact position within the infinite space-time continuum?" She shrugs. "Knowing what time it is seems better than that. At least you'll never be late to anything."

"And yet, he was still tardy to math class almost every day this semester."

I shoot a glare at Sam, mainly to distract myself from Tessa. Coming to my defence now means nothing. "Can we just go already?"

Tessa pulls out her sabre, the Focus she uses whenever she tears. "Fine by me. I'm starving, and they'll be serving dinner soon enough."

I can practically see Fred's mouth watering. He remembers the feast from last summer just as well as I do. To be fair, I don't think I've ever had more delicious food in my life.

Encouraged by the growls in our stomachs, Sam, Fred, and I stand next to Tessa, ready to be pulled into our next adventure.

[eldritchsurveys]

734.

Have you ever read the Hunger Games series? >> I have, finally! Read it during my trip to Texas in January. I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would; my quibbles are few. I want to see the movies but I also don’t want to see the movies -- what I want are... not those movies, pretty much. I’ll probably give the first one a shot at least, just so I know for sure exactly what I’m protesting against, lol.

When was the last time you ran into something? >> I don’t remember, I don’t do that often.

Do you enjoy dressing up? >> Yes, absolutely, mostly because I don’t get to do it often so it’s a novelty.

Do you live in the city or a rural area? >> I live in the outskirts of a city. So, kind of the suburbs, but not quite.

Would you say you have a sense of style? >> I mean, yeah.

What’s your biggest fear? >> Being terribly aware of my every dying moment and carrying that awareness into another life or something.

Have you ever been bitten by a wild animal? >> No.

Are you close to any of your cousins? >> No.

Have you ever been lost in the woods? >> No.

Where did you last travel? >> For any significant distance? Houston, Texas.

Do you enjoy driving? >> I don’t drive. I enjoy driving being a part of my mythic self, though (my mythic self is called the Driver, you see).

What song did you last listen to? >> Sunlight by Hozier. Which was, of course, written specifically to call me out.

If you have a job, how often do you work? >> ---

What time do you normally go to sleep at night? >> Anywhere between 10.30p and 1a.

Do you watch a lot of movies? >> I do.

Do you like Tom Petty? >> I don’t.

Would you rather have snow or rain? >> Rain. Absolutely rain.

Do you own a lot of sweaters? >> No. I’m not sure I own any at all, actually -- oh, wait, I own exactly one. It’s a Hot Topic Christmas sweater and it says “Sleigher: Reindeer Blood” on it. I love it and I would live in it if I could.

Have you ever tried rock-climbing? >> Nope. Except on that small rock wall in the Museum of Science & Industry (pretty sure that’s where it was).

Ever ridden in a police car? >> Yes.

Favorite decade of music? >> I don’t have a favourite decade. I prefer listening to music from as many decades as possible.

Have any of your best friends been your best friend longer than a year? >> ---

Ever witnessed a murder? >> No.

Do you care what people think of you? >> I care what some people think of me.

Does your room have a ceiling fan? >> Nope.

Would you consider yourself poised? >> Not particularly. I never put any effort into it.

Have you ever tried blogging? >> Of course, lol.

Favorite television channel? >> I don’t have cable.

Have you ever lied under oath? >> No.

What are your religious views? >> Nebulous and subject to whim.

Are you a romantic person? >> No.

When did you last change your bed sheets? >> About an hour ago, actually. And I showered afterwards, so now I’m a clean boy in a clean bed. Livin’ the dream.

Would you consider yourself a flirt? >> No.

At what age do you plan to be married? >> 32, apparently.

Do you eat a lot of junk food? >> No. I really just don’t like a lot of the foods that are widely considered “junk”.

When did you last go on vacation? >> I guess the trip to Texas was kind of a vacation? But otherwise I’d say my wedding/honeymoon in October.

Are you resilient? >> Yeah. Like, I know I am. It’s been proven that I am. The fact I feel so fragile and wounded so often isn’t a contradiction of that fact.

Have you ever failed a subject before? >> I don’t think so.

If so, what was the class? >> Like, I should have failed English III because I got a zero on the midterm and the final, but I think the teacher gave me a D out of pity or whatever.

Do you wear more bright or dull colors? >> I don’t really wear colours at all. It’s not even an effort anymore, it really just seems that all of the clothing I’m willing to wear comes in black...

Do you know anyone who has attempted suicide? >> Yes.

What’s your favorite quote? >> DAMMIT. I totally forgot about that quotes file I was going to keep on Evernote. I gotta work on that so I have answers for this question.

Would you consider yourself mature? >> I mean, I suppose I do okay. Being post-traumatic means I have some pretty child-like responses to things sometimes, but, you know. I’m doing my best.

How many clocks are in your house? >> There’s one on my wall, although there’s no battery in it because I can’t abide the noise. It’s just a decoration. (It’s one of those records that someone cut a design out of, it’s really cool.)

Do you play any sports? >> No.

What is your biggest life regret? >> ---

Have you ever been injured in a car accident? >> Nope.

If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be? >> My mind went a lot of places with this question in 5 seconds flat, and I don’t even know how to unpack any of it. Half the shit I thought of didn’t even have anything to do with this lifetime.

Have you ever had highlights in your hair? >> No.

Favorite fast food restaurant? >> Meh.

In what country were you born? >> USA.

Are your eyes more than one color? >> Nope.

Have you ever caught something on fire? >> Accidentally? Yeah, a couple of times.

What would you consider your biggest flaw? >> I don’t know.

What do you think your best quality is? >> Curiosity and open-mindedness.

Do you enjoy listening to others’ problems? >> I’m not sure “enjoy” is the right word in this context, lol.

Do you keep any plants in your house? >> Yeah, Sparrow’s really into plants. I like them, but I tend to enjoy them more when they’re outdoors. Kind of like animals.

What is your mother’s occupation? >> ---

Do any of your friends like your musical style? >> At least some of it, I’m sure. I like way too much shit for me to have no music preferences in common with the average person.

What are you most looking forward to? >> That glorious day when I can just. Walk into a bar and have a drink and some lunch again.

What was your favorite television show as a child? >> I don’t think I had one.

Are you afraid of insects? >> Not as a rule.

Are you cold-natured? >> I don’t think so, but my 485745 defense mechanisms often make me appear so.

How old were you when you got your first pet? >> I was a toddler.

Did you / do you enjoy high school? >> I did not.

What would you say was your favorite age? >> ---

What annoys you most about social networking? >> The way it’s engineered.

Are you the center of attention most of the time? >> No.

What are you currently reading? >> Staring at the Sun: Overcoming The Terror of Death by Irvin D Yalom. It’s... not really giving me anything I can use, mostly because it doesn’t address the things I actually fear (like, no, I don’t fear not leaving behind a good legacy or whatever, I literally fear the awe-ful, terrible knowledge of my organs shutting down and shit like that, the helplessness of being pulled into the abyss. Literally. Not figuratively. This is a literal visceral thing I believe in. Also, I fear persecution by cosmic forces because I have internalised the idea that I am Bad and I will be Punished. Where is my book? I do like the title, though.), so I don’t know if I’m going to finish it. I might skim through it for a few decent nuggets like that one Nietzsche quote he used, “when we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago”. That was a good one.

When did you last go to the library? >> It’s been a while, since I usually just check out ebooks. Oh, wait, we went to the branch for a Black History Month event, so, February.

Are you ill at the moment? >> No.

Do people tease you about anything? >> I mean, Sparrow does. And some tumblr mutuals tease me about various aspects of my Brand, hah.

How late did you stay up last night and why? >> I think I dropped off at around midnight, idk. Because that’s just how it happened.

Have you ever written poetry? >> Sure.

Curtains or shades? >> I’m not sure what the difference is.

How many people have you spoken to in the last hour? >> One.

Do you tend to text a lot? >> No.

Ever lost a great best friend? >> ---

What is your favorite kind of flower? >> Sunflowers.

Do you own any guns? >> Absolutely fucking not.

What would you say is your favorite book of all-time? >> ---

Do you think you’re living a good life? >> I am doing my best with the life I have.

What’s your least favorite part of the day? >> I don’t have a least favourite part of the day.

Are you an over-achiever? >> No.

Have you ever won an award for a speech? >> No.

Do you tend to curse a lot? >> Sure.

Have you ever played on the Ouija board? >> Nope. I’ve never even seen one in person, except for seeing the box in a store or something.

Do you sleepwalk? >> No.

Have you ever slept on the floor before? >> Yeah, I did for years. I should probably have worse spinal alignment or something now, but I guess them’s the perks of doing shit like that while I was still young.

Are you a fan of public displays of affection? >> I don’t do well with physical affection whether in public or not, so, you know.

When did you last attend a yard sale? >> A couple of years ago?

Do you wish your life were simpler or more interesting? >> I like the level of simplicity I’m at right now.

What goals do you wish to accomplish tomorrow? >> ---

When is your birthday? >> 28 May.

Which is worse: going blind or deaf? >> How would I know, I haven’t experienced either.

What was the best part of today? >> Visiting a mutual’s house in FFXIV, signing the guestbook, and then turning around and there was her character (and her girlfriend’s character) right behind me, lmao. We didn’t get to chat long because their dungeon queue popped, but it was still nice.

Do you attempt to stay away from drama? >> I don’t have to stay away from it, it’s never anywhere near me in the first place.

What liquid did you last drink? >> Gose.

Do you ever prefer to be alone? >> Often.

Have you ever had a deadly animal as a pet? >> No.

Favorite Disney movies >> Lilo & Stitch, Moana, and Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Have you ever been to the beach? >> Sure.

If you have, how many times have you been? >> Like... a few dozen? I don’t know.

What was your dream occupation at age ten? >> ---

Are you terrified at the idea of weight-gain? >> I don’t know if terrified is the right word, exactly, but something similar to that.

Do you drink a lot of water? >> Not a lot. I drink when I feel thirsty, and that just isn’t that often? I don’t know. Maybe I’m not good at recognising thirst cues, that’s a possibility.

Does your room have carpet or hard-wood floors? >> Carpet.

Do you take naps daily? >> No.

Who were you named after? >> I wasn’t named after anyone.

Do you plan on traveling this spring or summer? >> Well, we had planned...

Do you know anyone who is colorblind? >> Maybe?

Have you ever been a teacher’s pet? >> When I was a child, I guess, because I was precocious and nerdy and adults are obsessed with that sort of thing for some reason.

What is your absolute favorite hobby? >> *shrug* What’s a hobby.

How many times a day do you brush your teeth? >> One, provided I remember and have the executive function.

Ever been to a tanning bed before? >> No.

Are you satisfied with your financial stability? >> No matter what, I still have more financial stability than I did when I was literally penniless and living on the street, so I can deal.

Who is your favorite actor / actress? >> When it comes to people I’m always excited to see in a movie, Javier Bardem is one.

Are your nails painted? >> Nope.

What’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to someone? >> I don’t know, I’ve said a lot of mean things.

Do you ever accidentally talk to inanimate objects? >> Not accidentally, no. I do it on purpose, because it pleases me.

What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream? >> Vanilla bean and matcha are the only flavours I actually like and don’t just. tolerate.

Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender? >> I don’t think I’ve ever kissed another agender person.

Do you receive any hate mail? >> No.

Have you ever sent a letter in the mail? >> When I was a kid.

If you could, would you have a pen pal? >> I don’t think I’d make a good penpal.

What color are the pants you’re wearing? >> Black with lime green print.

Have you ever had a stalker? >> No.

What is your life philosophy? >> I don’t have one.

Who last sent you a goodnight text message? >> ---

Do you own any clothes that are your favorite color? >> I don’t own any gold clothing, no.

Have you ever been in a hot tub before? >> I tried a hot tub once, at Easton Mountain. Five seconds in, I felt faint and like my heart was going to burst out of my chest, so I had to get out.

What’s your favorite comedy movie? >> Blazing Saddles and The Producers come to mind.

In which year were you born? >> 1987.

[thelovers-thedreamers-and-me]

it’s that time of the week so you nerds get a fuck squad recap!

I feel like it’s notable that I have a chart up on my wall now where I can give my players gold stars if they do something really good and creative. So that’s fun and definitely not sparking competition at all!

We started with a discussion of “wailing widows” that I misheard as “whaling widows” and long story short I have a new comic book idea

Sergei, Maddela, and Saida see a crowd of people with weird, distorted faces staring at them. Maddela and Saida get Rhonia to cast Face of the Devourer on them so they fit in, while Sergei covers his eyes to not see them.

Yoni: “I would argue that only friends make each other piss themselves.”

Yoni slams the curtain that Rhonia ripped off the wall into the bag of trading.

“You pull out an old dirty sock.” Saida: Is that someone’s crankin’ it sock? Oh, wait, I can’t say that, you’ll lose followers on tumblr.”

Cue a discussion of that one time I got an anon saying they unfollowed me because of the ghost cum thing.

Saida: “Oh yeah, I remember that.” Sergei: “I don’t but there’s so much I don’t remember.” Saida: “Maybe you should lay off the party drugs.” Sergei: “MAYBE YOU SHOULD LAY OFF MY DICK”

Sergei blindly walks forward to a table in the middle of the room with a chalice on it, and triggers a trap that causes a hidden crossbow to fire at Maddela and an illusion to make it look like he did it.

Rhonia: “I put the crossbow bolt in his hand” “His hands are still over his eyes!”

They conclude that he clearly didn’t do it because dude didn’t even have a crossbow.

There was then some discussion of a poutine pinata which sounds like such a bad idea.

Sergei hits the chalice off the table with his orb and stick with his eyes closed, setting off a bolt of shadow that feels like flame.

Yoni scoops up the chalice with the bag of trading and gets a “not like top tier but about as good as you can get at the fantasy sobeys bottle of wine.” It turns out the door is unlocked and they can just walk through. The next floor is filled with a thick gray mist.

Sergei: “I have my stick out. My STICK.”

Sergei: “I didn’t go to fuckin’ wizard school! I went to clown college!”

Maddela strikes a match to see if the mist in the room they are in is flammable. It isn’t, but I feel like that’s a notably bad idea.

Sergei walks around the perimeter of the room with a rope tied around his waist and finds the door. However, when he tries to open it, a spear of ice springs up from the floor.

Meanwhile, the rest of the squad use the rope to navigate across the room to the door, and come across a weird stone box with a gold key in the bottom. When Rhonia reaches in to get it, a swarm of monkeys are summoned, one of which grabs the key before they scamper away into the mist.

Saida: “Does everyone have a lightning-proof hazmat suit? Because I have a plan!”

spoiler nobody had that

Saida also suggested Maddela melt the ice spear by dirty dancing on it. “Roll a fort save in case you froze your box!”

Maddela does melt the ice spear with some alchemist’s fire, but then immediately triggers another one by trying to unlock the door again.

Rhonia: “I’m just gonna fill the box with bananas!”

She does use her magic lunchbox to fill the pedestal with bananas, which lures all the monkeys in for snacks. After a few horribly bad perception checks, Yoni manages to see that one of the monkeys has the key so she hits it with her starknife and it dies.

Maddela: “How much of your hatred of wizards is part of your history?” Saida: “I had a really bad run in with one once.” Sergei: “Yeah, ran into his dick with your vagina!”

The next room has a table with a mask on it, two poufs on either side, and a door. Saida puts the mask on immediately and it affixes itself to her face and she can’t get it off. When she and anyone else sit on each of the poufs, the other people get a quick lil fortune reading.

Sergei gets told that he’s trusting someone he shouldn’t, so his player was kinda freaking the fuck out the rest of the session. Who is it? Who knows? I’ll never tell. TEE HEE HEE.

(about Rhonia) “You want to help, and you can be very inventive but sometimes you may not think your actions through.”  Saida: “Didn’t need a mask to tell me that!”

(also about Rhonia) “Your god is pleased with you... and so is another.” Yoni: “Better not be Desna! Stay away from my god!” “Other people worship Desna.” Saida: “And Yoni’s going to cut them all!”

Saida: “You know how there’s visual learners and audio learners? Maddela’s a vaginal learner.”

The next room is set up like a museum, with a huge T-Rex skeleton in the centre and glass display cases lining the walls.

Sergei: “This is the necromancy room and there’s a giant skeleton in the middle. I’m so excited. Not.”

He crosses to the door and touches it, which wakes the T-rex that attacks the squad.

“Does a 22 hit?” Maddela: “No.” “Oh, cool.” Maddela: “I’M STILL LYING!”

Maddela uses her wand of binding to bind the T-Rex while she runs to go unlock the three locks on the door.

Yoni: “I do one, uh, blunt damage” which brought him to 69. Nice.

Yoni: “Does anyone have ropes to tie his feet together?” Saida: “This is like turning into a caper, i love it.”

The rest of the squad beat it up, but then it reforms into two smaller T-Rex skeletons.

Saida:"That giant dinosaur lizard will never know the satisfaction of eating poop again. Because it’s dead.”

Saida: “Don’t you have, like, healing blast?” “Oh, you mean healing gun.”

Saida: “I haven’t been listening to how Yoni’s class works.” “It’s cool, neither has she.”

“You’re being very strategic tonight. Are you feeling okay?”

Rhonia animated one of the smaller T-rexes and named it Jonesy, so that’s a thing now. They tied up the other one instead of killing it so it didn’t reanimate as more smaller boys. God they can be smart on occasion.

Saida: “Apparently my bloodline gives me a bonus to knowledge religion. But I don’t want it because that sounds dumb.”

They move on to the next room, where the first-level wizard apprentice who was manning the door watches them stomp on in with a new t-rex pal and decides to let them go to see the council once they’re done with the meeting that they’re having.

Presented with the opportunity to get what they want in about ten minutes if they just wait peacefully, the squad all gangs up to try and kick down the door and all roll terribly.

Coming out of the door is Tarand, who, from what they can hear, has had some sort of ideological disagreement with the rest of the wizards and is resigning from his position here.

Saida: “We’re never gonna get as high level as he is because all we do is SHOP and FUCK”

she’s not WRONG

Saida, trying to figure out if he’s been exposed to the mushroom spores: “are you feeling hepatitis-y?”

Sergei: “Have you had to roll any saving throws?” Tarand: “I’m a very powerful wizard. I know what that feels like. I have not.”

He is very confused when they ask about the mushrooms and refuses to tell them why he’s leaving, so Yoni Flapdragon, in a fit of anger, punches him in the dick. And almost crits. It isn’t confirmed so it only does 3 damage, but still. That’s a thing they’ll have to deal with later.

They go in to meet the wizard council, who did just watch Yoni punch Tarand right in the dingalings. Most of them also don’t know much about the mushrooms, except one halfling with a wrinkled face named Effin who tells them that she had been working on something similar, but it didn’t work out so she sent it to the toxic waste disposal. When the squad points out that pretty much anyone can get in there, there’s a bit of confusion- there are supposed to be a bunch of curses and things protecting it.

“Academia, you know how it is.” Rhonia: “Isn’t that a nut?”

Saida’s player, tearing up laughing: “I’m just thinking of how much funnier every fantasy genre would be if there was bullying!”

Saida and Yoni stay behind to chat with the council, while Maddela, Sergei, and Rhonia go up to the greenhouse to get some of the asinus densissima flower to put an end to all this.

Maddela: “I don’t know anything about wizards and I’m not about to learn!”

Saida, trying to chat up the head of enchantment by talking about the school of magic: “Of course I know what enchantment is, it’s when you kinda rub magic on some pants and it sticks.”

He’s not impressed by her magic knowledge.

Maddela proceeds to buy some poison from the greenhouse, which has mushrooms visibly covering some of the glass panes. While Effin makes a deal with her, Rhonia gets Jason the skeleton to climb up onto Jonesy the T-rex skeleton and throw a trowel, breaking the glass of the ceiling and letting the mushrooms in.

SO THAT’S COOL

[birusabi]

Do you have any headcanons/ideas for your AU that you'd like to share?

Hello, anon! I don’t have a super specific plot or anything, but I do have some general things + details for each of the characters! 

The general idea is that Ouma is a somewhat notorious thief who’s wanted for causing havoc around the kingdom(s), and Kiibo is a knight who unwillingly gets caught up in his mischief. The two end up traveling together and come across different lands, people (the other V3 characters), and varying degrees of trouble while on their adventures.

I have headcanons for where the other V3 characters would fit in + class ideas too, but there’s spoilers for the game (and it’s long) so I’ll put it under the cut.

(Also if you ever want to talk to me about DR or my AU or anything like that, please do! I enjoy it and I’m super happy that someone finds it interesting!)

*Heavy spoilers for DRV3 within, read at your own risk

Ouma: Thief. Very good at lock-picking and getting into things that he really shouldn’t be getting into. DICE probably exists in this AU too, but I imagine he got separated from them somehow, so in the meantime he explores the world on his own, getting into trouble. No one really knows where he came from but most people will recognize who he is (and not be too happy about it).

Kiibo: Knight. Probably lived a pretty normal life before he met Ouma. Starts off very annoyed and unwilling to cooperate, since being involved with Ouma gets him into trouble too, so Ouma pulls him along for a while. But he eventually learns to enjoy the adventure and the new company. Very level-headed and tries to be prepared for anything that could potentially go wrong (which is a lot of things).

Amami: Traveler, based off his backstory in the game. Has been to a lot of remote/mysterious places and is the most knowledgeable about the world. I like to think that he’d travel with the main duo sometimes, since they’d run into him in different places, but he’d always leave to explore on his own at some point. You never know when/where he’s going to pop up, but he’ll always have some new and exciting story to share.

Akamatsu: A traveling bard. She knows a variety of different instruments (mostly because you can’t have a portable piano in a fantasy setting), but she typically carries around some variation of lute. Other than traveling and seeing the world, she likes to perform for small villages or people in need because she sees how her music can raise people’s spirits. Usually never seen too far away from Saihara, who travels with her.

Saihara: Archer! Based off the fact that as the protag he uses truth bullets, but there are no guns in this AU, so arrows are the next best thing. He travels with Akamatsu, as both a companion and a bodyguard, though she ends up protecting him just as much as he protects her. He’s an extremely good shot and spends a lot of his free time listening to Akamatsu’s music.

Angie: Priest/Shaman. Most likely lives in a small, remote village that has a long history of communicating with the gods. No one knows if there’s any truth to this, but Angie is pretty highly respected since she’s so capable with magic. Her knowledge of the world and “proper ritual practices” are questionable at best, but she has good healing magic and has maybe performed a small miracle or two.

Tenko: Monk/Fighter, which is pretty self-explanatory. Probably set off on her own journey out of a desire to “find herself and hone her senses” (or maybe she was instructed to do so). Somewhere along the line, she ran into Himiko, got super attached, and hasn’t left her side since. She might get underestimated as a female fighter, but she definitely has more wins under her belt than losses.

Himiko: (sorry if I switch between first and last names btw) Mage. Which is probably obvious. More of a fledgling mage than an experienced one (not that she’ll admit it), but she has a lot of potential. Spends a lot of time in libraries or other places where magic-users are known to gather in order to study. Tenko never leaves her side (not that she really minds).

Momota: Astronomer (not sure if that counts as a class, but it’s the closest he can get to astronaut). I like to imagine that he has his own little observatory, filled with star charts and books and various equipment (it’s probably a complete mess in there). He spends all of his time studying the stars, but occasionally goes into town to buy food or to see if the traveling merchants have anything new to share. Likes to brag about being the town scholar, although that’s debatable.

Harukawa: Assassin… based on the fact that she’s the ultimate assassin. Her backstory is probably pretty similar to what it is in-game, orphanage and shady training and all. She wanders around working as a blade for hire. I think she’d probably run into Momota at some point while staying in his hometown, he’d strike up a friendship with her, and she’d find it increasingly difficult to hide the unsavory details of her work from him.

Gonta: Druid. He basically lives in the forest, is skilled with nature-related magic, and can probably talk to animals/bugs. Talking to bugs also means he can probably control them which is not great news for Ouma. I imagine he spends a lot of time on his own though, so he probably gets lonely and would appreciate the occasional human company. He also knows a lot about herbs, medicines, and what mushrooms are safe to eat.

Iruma: Blacksmith. The closest she can get to inventor. Very, very talented and has developed somewhat of a renown across the kingdom(s) for her skill in crafting anything from armor to weapons to everyday household items. Many people have come to try and work as an apprentice under her, but she turns them down every time. If I ever decide to add characters from SDR2 or DR1 to this AU though, I’d love to have her work with Souda and maybe Chihiro!

Kirumi: Knight like Kiibo. I contemplated making her a maid again, but I’m a huge fan of her argument armament segment, where she’s designed as a knight, and I think it fits her character perfectly! She likely serves some type of lord and may even be part of a small army (which is what’s more expected of a knight) whereas Kiibo has deviated from that and gone off on his own. I feel like she’d have many admirers, both for her appearance and for her combat abilities. 

Hoshi: Also an archer like Saihara. Because I think that’s the closest he can get to firing tennis balls at people. I imagine him as kind of a jaded mercenary, wandering the lands and taking on small jobs that no one else wants in order to get by. He never sticks around for too long though because he “doesn’t want to form any attachments.” Very worldly. 

Shinguji: Dark mage/Alchemist. Basically the type of shady magic-user who has probably dabbled in something forbidden. I’m not a big fan of the whole plot twist with his sister though, so in my AU I like to imagine that she’s alive, just very sickly. And while Shinguji does get into some questionable things (that don’t involve murder), he does it to find a cure for her, even if he has to research long-forgotten magic to do so.

Shirogane: Last but not least. Sorceress/Illusionist, which felt the most fitting to her cosplay talent and her mastermind role. I like to think that she holds some position of power in the kingdom, though I’m not sure if she’d be as high as a queen. But she’s very good at disguising herself (and maybe can shapeshift thanks to magic), so she spends her time secretly moving among the normal folks, looking into all of the dark secrets that the kingdom has to offer.

[peppersandcats]

Well okay.

So I have just finished the Elseworlds crossover, and while there is a lot to say, I feel like geeking about stuff from a very specific perspective. It is the perspective of someone whose knowledge of DC comics is extremely patchy--as I may have mentioned before, I think I spent around twenty years knowing that J’onn J’onzz was a Martian, the last survivor of an ancient race, somewhat religious, and fond of Oreos.

(If you can figure out where I learned that information and only that information, congrats! It will come up again later.)

A decade-ish later, I learned he could shapeshift.

The whole “telepath who can credibly punch a Kryptonian” thing didn’t come up until sometime in the last couple of years.

Also: spoilers ahead.

So this is not a critical analysis; this is me squee-ing over things I think I have seen that remind me of other things. And I mean... maybe this is all totally obvious and everyone who’s been looking at the script and the character names knows it? Or maybe this is as purely a product of my own personal geekery/history as my inability to not read comics!Commander Cold as a Judge Dredd homage? I don’t know. But I’m happy.

Mostly this is about the second and third episodes of Elseworlds, although in the first episode I did notice that they defeated Amazo by uploading a virus (at arrowpoint) through his eye, and in comics!Flashpoint he was deactivated by Plastic Man going in through his eye and plucking out his operating system (namely Ray Palmer). Is that a standard Amazo-coping tactic?

((also: holy crap comics!Flashpoint was grim.))

The Shakespeare head in Kate Kane’s office was a reference to the old Batman TV show, right? The Adam West one? They’d... pull on the head and the grandfather clock would slide sideways and they’d go down the Batpole and be in costume when they got to the Batcave, I think? (I laughed.)

I liked that Mark Guggenheim showed up as an inmate. Or his name did; I couldn’t pick him out of a lineup to tell you if he was in any of the shots.

I squeaked so hard when other!Barry (old-TV!Barry? who knows?) looked at John and was surprised he didn’t have a ring. John Diggle as a Green Lantern makes me happy. He would knock that out of the park. I like Diggle.

Also: Alex Danvers, badass on any Earth. I love Alex Danvers being a badass. I love that in the first season, you can see her going hand-to-hand with a Kryptonian, and a bunch of other DEA agents are just running past like “yep, it’s Agent Danvers, she’s got that, she’s fine”.

Was so pleased to see that the Book of Destiny was written in the Speed Force language. Of course it makes sense.

One thing I didn’t think was a reference, but that I loved about the third episode; all our main characters are in black-and-white. Mostly black. Just seeing those characters who are usually so damn bright in such utterly colourless outfits was a kind of lovely note about the setting. (Also, one thing I didn’t catch but that the LOML pointed out to me as we were watching: black-and-white Superman is Justice Lords Superman. (My understanding of Justice Lords comes secondhand from @demiurgent and can best be summed up as “those fascist versions of the Justice League that Billy Batson was absolutely not like”.))

Loved no-powers everyone's-a-criminal Barry and Ollie, too. Looking forward to fics. (Also, was I the only one looking at Barry and thinking he always looks like kind of a doof when he's dressed up as a criminal?)

I honestly wasn’t sure Barry wasn’t going to die. Partly that was the suspension of disbelief kicking in enough to make me ignore that we’ve got mumble more episodes this season and it’d probably be hard to miss Tumblr flipping out over the actor not being on contract or something. Partly that was... well, this season has been about Nora coping with Barry disappearing, and the skies were red which is a callback to That Headline from the time vault, and That Headline references the Crisis, and I have managed not to miss the fact that ?Monitor + Crisis + Barry running until he starts to fall apart can mean he dies. Like, there’s precedent. I didn’t think they’d kill both him and Kara, and wouldn’t kill just him on someone else’s show, but you know...

It was nice, to be unsure. It made them surviving even more awesome.

Also: props to you, Oliver Queen, for yelling loud enough that the Monitor actually decided to talk to you. I have suspicions about what you two talked about, and they are heavily related to your very bad habit of not telling people shit, but props.

But the big thing, for me, was Deegan.

(This ties back to where I first learnt about J’onn J’onzz.)

So. In the first ep, Deegan is a poorly-presented kind of dude who’s got unspecified but weird ideas about how to help his patients. Okay. That could be a “good intent, bad execution” kind of guy. He was going on about his patients feeling inferior, and about how to make people feel super without them actually being super. I legit thought he might have swapped Barry and Ollie because he wanted to see if letting someone be super would be safe, and thought that giving a hero superhero powers might be a small way to test it.

(Yeah, I’m a gentle optimist sometimes.)

But the second episode, man.

He’s from Arkham and has a history of being horrible to his patients. He’s wielding an object of Destiny to reshape reality. In fact, he’s wielding an object that might or might not be something the Monitor uses (hell if I know, I only vaguely figured there was a Monitor because I’d heard there was an Anti-Monitor), but that is called the Book of Destiny and is definitely looking like Destiny’s book in which all things are written.

I’m sure there are other gigantic tomes in the DC universe, but that one is mine.

And I begin to hope that instead of John Deegan, I’m seeing Dr. John Dee. Doctor Destiny. I mean, we’ve got an Arkham inhabitant who got his hands on a reality-rewriting artifact belonging to one of the Endless and is making himself a god and making things horrible-- that’s him, right?

And then he gets affected at the end of the third episode, and... yeah, I’m going with that being him.

Dr. John Dee is (for me) from the first Sandman graphic novel, which I loved very much; the issue “24 Hours” was probably the high point of my introduction to horror comics that were not of the EC genre or gloppy adaptations of public-domain short-stories. (Not that there’s anything wrong with EC. (I... I’m now envisioning Dr. John Dee as drawn by Ghastly Graham Ingels, and I may need to lie down a moment. That’s approaching Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark levels of creep factor.))

(My introduction to J’onn J’onzz was also from the first Sandman graphic novel. Like two pages in which I saw him interact with Dream and Scott Free.)

But yeah. For the longest time, the only DC I read was some Batman and some Vertigo, and Sandman was the reason I read Vertigo. And I haven’t read a lot of it in years and I still remember it, and I got to see part of it on the small screen.

And 2019: I’m holding out for the Eye Guy. Don’t disappoint me.

[thebookishgoddess]

#Project14Lists 2018: Bookish Ships

My first post for the #Project14Lists bookish event is a list of my bookish ships! I know, controversial. Not everyone ships the canon couple, or ships that one character with anyone at all. Nevertheless, we are all here to express our love for books and the couples that our favorite authors have written, not to throw shade or spill the tea on each other’s ships. We are all trash for something, and we must respect each other’s trash (if that makes any sense, haha!)

For today’s list, I will be putting up twelve of my favorite bookish ships and my favorite fanart of them (with credits to the brilliant artists, of course!). There are waaaay too many ships that I love, if I’m being realistic here. But I got lazy after the 12th graphic I had to edit up for this. I’ll be dabbling on my favorite quotes/scenes of the ships and a little reaction to said quote or scene.

Let the fangirling commence!

Cover photo credit: johannathemad

1. Thomas Creswell & Audrey Wadsworth from the Stalking Jack the Ripper series by Kerri Maniscalco

Favorite Quote/Scene: “You are not mine to take.” He brushed his lips against mine. Softly, so softly I might have imagined them there. My eyes fluttered shut. He could persuade me to build a steamship to the moon when he kissed me. We could orbit the stars together. “You are yours to give.” --Hunting Prince Dracula

Are you bloody kidding me with that? Honestly, Thomas and Audrey is on the top ten of my favorite ships of all time simply because of that scene alone. This scene shows how much Thomas values Audrey as his equal and partner despite all the mayhem they went through. Also because Thomas Cresswell is every girl’s #bookboyfriendgoals because he’s suave af. I WILL SHIP IT TO MY GRAVE.

Art by phantomrin

2. Elias Veturius & Laia of Serra from the Ember Quartet by Sabaa Tahir

Favorite Quote/Scene: Laia is curled in a ball on the other, one hand on her armlet, fast asleep. 

"You are my temple", I murmur as I kneel beside her. "You are my priest. You are my prayer. You are my release." --A Torch Against the Night

SHUT THE FRONT DOOR. Do men like Elias Veturius even exist in the 21st Century? Hells no. Well, maybe, but the probability of one existing is about 1 to a million, so there’s that. I have never been so moved by such a simple statement, especially since that mantra is supposed to be Elias’s mantra to like, what was it? His honor in fighting for the Empire? But when he said that to Laia, it’s the same level of honor and I’m just so emotional about that?? What even?? How dare Sabaa?? 

Art by gabriella.bujdoso

11. Draco Malfoy & Astoria Greengrass from the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling

Favorite Quote/Scene: DRACO: Which is why you need this [time-turner]. I have been holding onto it, barely resisting using it, even though I would sell my soul for another minute with Astoria.

DRACO: You [speaking to his son, Scorpius] know what I loved most about your mother [Astoria]? She could always help me find light in the darkness. She made the world — my world, anyway — less — what was the word you used — “murky.”  

--Harry Potter and the Cursed Child

CAN WE JUST TALK ABOUT DRACO MALFOY FOR A HOT MINUTE? This man, who firmly believes himself hopeless soon after the Battle of Hogwarts ended, gets the happiest gift of all by having some girl named Astoria Greengrass see the good in him and love him for who he is. If that isn’t the best trope in a ship, I don’t know what is! We know nothing about Astoria other than the fact that she’s some obscure sister of yet another obscure classmate of Draco’s named Daphne. And yet, she seemed one of the most integral characters to me in Cursed Child when Draco said that he resisted using the time-turner to see his dead wife. 

Let’s not forget how when Scorpius time-traveled to a VoldemortWins!AU that Draco still ends up with Astoria. I think that’s what so beautiful about Draco and Astoria. They’re such a minor couple in the background of Hinny and Romione, but they carry so much history we’ve yet to know thanks to their darling cinnamon roll of a son, Scorpius. Anyone who truly knows me is already knowledgeable of the fact that I cry over this ship on a daily basis. And I’m sorry again that I had to cry and make one heck of a long description for this ship because they’re my ultimate fave *ugly sobs*.

Art by blvnk-art

4. Cress Darnell & Carswell Thorne from The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer

Favorite Quote/Scene:

“Captain?“ “Cress.“ She couldn’t not say it, although she realized he was right. It was sort of scary. Much scarier than it had been the first time she’d told him, out in the desert. It was different now. It was real. "I’m in love with you.” He chuckled. “I should hope so, after all that.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her temple. “And I love you too.” --Winter

FIRST OF ALL, WHAT THE ACTUAL FORK I AM SCREECHING OVER THAT. That scene was probably one of the most memorable scenes I’ve read in the last installment of the Lunar Chronicles. Forget how Levana died and all was well. I cannot help but forget this very scene that sets every other couple in the series apart because of how well-written and developed these two were together. Right now, I am super tempted to re-read the Lunar Chronicles, just for the heck of rereading Cresswell (the ship name) all over again. 

Art by vvivaa

5. Tedros & Agatha from The School for Good and Evil series by Soman Chainani

Favorite Quote/Scene: “But you are my queen. No one but you. And I like seeing you wear it. Because as long as you do, I know you still love me. And given our history of miscommunication, physical cues are helpful.” --The Last Ever After

I absolutely adore Tedros and Agatha. I have been rooting for them since day one of this series and I will never stop (even if Soman highkey tore them apart in Quests for Glory, for shame). They’re probably the most realistic couple to me, if there was a better word for it? Miscommunication definitely happens a lot between these two because Tedros can be pretty dense sometimes and Agatha can be quite arrogant. But I always love how they come together in the end to work it out because that’s what most couples do--they fight, but they don’t lose sight of what’s really important to them. Tedros and Agatha physically embodies those kind of relationships and I am absolutely here for it. Soman needs to stop hurting me after Quests for Glory though because Tedros and Agatha being apart up until Crystal of Time physically hurts me askhjsfkhja.

Art by thevioleteuphonia

6. Nina Zenik & Matthias Helvar from the Six of Crows duology by Leigh Bardugo

Favorite Quote/Scene:

“I am grateful you're alive", he said. "I am grateful that you're beside me. I am grateful that you're eating." 

She rested her head on his shoulder. 

"You're better than waffles, Matthias Helvar." 

A small smile curled the Fjerdan's lips. 

"Let's not say things we don't mean, my love.” --Crooked Kingdom

I AM STILL HIGHKEY MAD FOR WHAT LEIGH DID TO THIS SHIP. I won’t say more, but I will say that this is the most painful ship to have ever sailed and I will never get over it. But also the sweetest and well-crafted because of how much these two characters developed over the course of two books. Granted, Nina and Matthias had their history together before the Dregs, but even without it, Leigh wrote them in a way that makes you believe they really are meant for each other in the end despite all adversity. I’m happy Nina is likely going to get a female love interest in Leigh’s installment on Prince Nikolai’s story, though her being with Matthias will always have a special place in my heart.

Art by nilaffle

7. Lira & Elian Midas from To Kill A Kingdom by Alexandra Christo

Favorite Scene/Quote:

“If you get shot,” Lira says, “I’m going to treat you like you’re incapable of doing the simplest tasks.” 

She cradles her arms around her knees to keep out the cold. 

“See how you like it when I hold out my arm to help you walk, even though you’re not shot in the leg.” 

“I’d be flattered,” I say, “that you would look for an excuse just to hold my hand.” 

“Perhaps I’m just looking for an excuse to shoot you.” --To Kill a Kingdom

I love a good “do I want to kill you or kiss you, it’s interchangeable” trope between couples, and when it comes to Lira and Elian, they pretty much seal the deal on that kind. Lira, the princess siren, is pretty much a cray murderer that takes people’s hearts and Elian is a prince-pirate that’s set to destroy her and kill her for good. I mean, it can’t get any more angst and interesting than that. The way they slowly develop in this standalone is very intriguing because not a lot of authors can pull off a realistic romance fantasy the way Alexandra Christo did. I just absolutely love Lira and Elian, their funny banters and their angst. They’re the kind of ship I would sail forever, really.

Art by silketara

8. Ron Weasley & Hermione Granger from the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling

There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermione's arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broomstick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet. --Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

CONTROVERSY. But seriously, I absolutely adore and love Ron and Hermione together because of their balance as a couple. There are times where Ron will be street smart and there are times (but most of the time) where Hermione will be book smart. Plus, I definitely think they need each other at times to get off their own high horses because we all know Hermione can be a wee bit intense and Ron can be a wee bit ignorant, but that’s the beauty of them balancing each other out. And that particular favorite scene I just showed proved just how far their relationship as more than friends have come. I practically squealed the first time I read their first kiss scene!

Plus, have you seen them in Cursed Child? I know hardly anyone considers it canon, but adult Ron and Hermione are the cutest ship to squeal at in that book--which seems to be one of the very few good things that book had ever produced. 

Art by johannathemad

9. Elain Archeron & Lucien Vanserra from the A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas

Favorite Scene/Quote: Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate.” --A Court of Mist and Fury

Here we go, y’all. Another controversial ship. Let me just say that I want Elain to be happy, and whether it’s with Azriel or Lucien or by herself, I’m totally down for that. I just simply love the idea of Elain and Lucien together because of how actual smol beans they both are. Elain, our sweet flower girl and Seer with Lucien, our soft and loyal Fae--I mean, honestly. If I’m weak for ships that want to kill each other, I’m also weak for ships that have the softest hearts. I think they both have their own struggles and I definitely think they’ll grow from those struggles together. 

We all know what happened in ACOFAS and how Elain pretty much snubbed Lucien, but I still have high hopes for them. Maas has a plethora of novels coming out for the minor characters of the ACOTAR series, and I’m betting Elain and Lucien will get their moment in one of those novels. I haven’t lost hope yet! I mean, I bought magnetic bookmarks of these two, so it’s pretty clear I want these two to be endgame, haha!

Art by embaileyart

10. Nesta Archeron & Cassian from the A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas

Favorite Quote/Scene: Cassian grunted in pain, but lifted his bloodied hands - to cup her face. “I have no regrets in my life but this.” His voice shook with every word. “That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta.”

She didn’t stop him as he leaned up and kissed her - lightly. As much as he could manage. --A Court of Wings and Ruin

I think the whole, if not all, of the ACOTAR fandom can agree that Nesta and Cassian are endgame through and through. Judging by that intense moment alone as per the scene presented above, I can pretty much say that while they both have a long way to go, the foundation has already been built from there. I mean, come on, people! They were willing to get killed by the King of Hybern if it meant protecting each other. If that isn’t squeal-fangirl factor trying to protect each other from some evil war lord, I don’t know what is!

Art by meabhd

11. America Singer & Maxon Schreave from The Selection series by Kiera Cass

Favorite Quote/Scene: “Break my heart. Break it a thousand times if you like. It was only ever yours to break anyway.” --The One

My high school fangirlish heart is exploding with memories of how much I loved America and Maxon back then, and I still do! This single sentence above said by Maxon says so much about how far he and America have come together through the adversities faced during the Selection and the rebellions that came with it from the people of Illea. Their love story is definitely one for the ages. While it’s your typical poor girl marries rich prince story, they’re definitely worth the remarkable development they’ve have over the course of three beautiful books.

Art by marimari999

12. Arin & Kestrel from the The Winner’s Curse trilogy by Marie Rutkoski

Favorite Quote/Scene: She turned to look at him, and he was already looking at her. 

“I’m going to miss you when I wake up,” she whispered, because she realized that she must have fallen asleep under the sun. Arin was too real for her imagination. He was a dream.

“Don’t wake up,” he said. --The Winner’s Crime

I’m in slight tears because I still remember this scene in the second book. The scene wasn’t actually real, but a dream that Kestrel had after months of being separated from Arin by some messed up duty to her country. Y’all have no idea the struggle these two had before they finally got their happily ever after (they did, just a little heads up for any hopefuls wanting to read the trilogy). This scene definitely gave me a sense of the impending tragedy of them being together (and yes, there’s also a forbidden love trope, sign me tf up, amiright), but it was a momentary bliss to everything that’s been happening during the course of when that scene happened. I absolutely adore Kestrel and Arin, and I’m so mad very few people have read of them or the series ahhhh.

Art by taylordraws

Phew! That was a lot of ships and hunting down for their quotes. Admittedly, I had some trouble with looking for scenes/quotes and that’s actually a perfect opportunity for me to start bookmarking my favorite parts of a book.

Aside from the struggles, though, I’d love to hear some of your favorite bookish ships, whether we ship the same thing or not. It’s always interesting to hear someone else’s point of view of ships, especially ones where our ships contradict. Feel free to sound off in the comments below!

[annviscom]

Why do we read fiction?

Year 3 - FMP

(12 April 2021)

These are some blog posts by writers or people interested in literature. These are opinions, not scientific facts. Therefore, everything said by them I need to think about critically.

The Importance of Reading Fiction  by Hannah Frankman:

“I am going to begin this article by posing an argument: reading fiction is important. [...] Fiction is a forgotten gem, an untapped well of knowledge and information. A person developing and aiming for success should steep themselves in fiction, and read it copiously.

1. Fiction helps you understand other people’s perspectives

Good fiction runs deep into the realms of psychology and philosophy. It explores and uncovers paradigm. It allows you to understand perspectives you’ve never seen before, both psychological and physical. When you read fiction, you can be someone you’d never otherwise have the chance to become — another gender, another age, someone of another nationality or another circumstance. You can be an explorer, a scientist, an artist, a young and single mother or an orphaned cabin boy or a soldier. When you take off the guise again — set down the book — you walk away changed. You understood things you didn’t understand before, and that shapes your worldview.

2. Fiction deepens your understanding of evolution Everything evolves — individuals evolve. Paradigms evolve. Cultures evolve. Technology evolves. To study history is to study the evolution of civilization. All stories have narrative arcs — a beginning, a middle, and an end. This arc marks an evolution — be it of a character or a series of events. Something comes out changed. This phenomenon of evolution is important on multiple levels. On a conceptual scale, watching evolution occur in fiction is valuable, because fiction deals in expedited timelines. You can see things from a zoomed-out perspective and see things you wouldn’t observe in normal day-to-day life. Watching the evolution unfold helps you begin to understand the process. On the level of an individual, watching characters evolve helps us understand individual human evolution — both that of those around us, and our own.

3. Fiction allows you to see the big picture Point A to point B applies not only linearly, but in our day-to-day lives. All things in our world fit together, and fiction allows us to see how. Fiction gives us the rare opportunity to look at the world from a removed perspective. Fiction, in its narration, condenses. It pulls out the things that are important and highlights them, juxtaposes them against each other, elaborates on them, paints them clearly as we don’t usually see them. An evolution that can take years — the building of a relationship, the unfolding of a war, the deterioration of a strong young man into a weak old one — can be observed in hours. In The Grapes of Wrath, Steinbeck highlighted truths about the Great Depression that those in the middle of its dust couldn’t clearly see. In The Great Gatsby, Fitzgerald draws a picture of a man with an overdeveloped persona in a way that one cannot see interacting with him at the surface, but can only discern from a distance. It makes the world clearer to see all of it at once — like flying high above the trees to see the forest, or looking at the world via a map — instead of on the ground where you can’t tell if there’s a street running parallel to the one you’re on.

4. Fiction allows you to look at the world in an entirely different light When you read fiction, you’re looking at the world through someone else’s eyes. It could be argued that this is true of all writing — or even all forms of communication — and this argument would be true, but fiction does something unique that all other forms cannot. It takes us inside — inside the mind and the perspective of the character. You’re seeing a world defined on their terms: their metaphors used to describe their surroundings, their context for events, their perspective on happenings and relationships.Looking at the world in different lights is one of the most vital things one can do in the pursuit of growth. Our perspectives are limited, but they’re constantly evolving. When we look at the world through someone else’s perspective, we try on the elements of their paradigm — and when we find something we like, we adopt it and make it our own. In doing so, our own paradigm grows.

5. Fiction makes our lives rich

6. Fiction helps us understand The definition of fiction is something made up, but fiction ultimately deals in truth. Remember that Hemingway quote I opened with? There’s another, equally as compelling as the first:

“All good books have one thing in common — they are truer than if they had really happened, and after you’ve read one of them you will feel that all that happened, happened to you and then it belongs to you forever: the happiness and unhappiness, good and evil, ecstasy and sorrow, the food, wine, beds, people, and the weather.” — Ernest Hemingway

I confess that I’m biased. I am a literature person — I see the world with a literary mind. When I read fiction after a spell of abstinence, it’s like taking a long drink of cold water on a hot day when your mouth is dry. Acknowledgement: not all fiction is valuable. Poor writing, shallow plots, and petty drama have little value — at least, little that I’ve found. But not all nonfiction books are valuable either. Shoddy “dime store romances” aside, fiction has endless potential to bring value to your life. Next time you see someone reading fiction, don’t turn up your nose and sniff under your breath. Go read some yourself.

https://medium.com/the-mission/the-importance-of-reading-fiction-7f57546a229b

•••••

Why Do We Read Fiction? Here Are 5 Reasons by Monica M. Clark

1. Readers Read Fiction to Escape Sometimes a person needs to just leave their world and enter someone else’s. Other times she needs to literally escape her own thoughts. So she turns to books. 

2. Readers Read Fiction for Companionship People turn to fiction both when they’re alone and when they are lonely. Sometimes people are just literally alone. They’re on a plane or have time at home, and the book becomes the companion they pass the hours getting to know. When a person is lonely, the intimacy of books can show [them] that there are others like [them] out there. Or that there are others who feel the way that [they feel]. Books tell people that, while they’re unique, they’re not as unique as they think, ultimately helping them understand themselves and their circumstances better. 

3. Readers Read Fiction to Gain Perspective Reading about aliens invading the universe can put your problems in perspective—I mean you literally could be dealing with the end of the world. Alternatively, historical fiction might make give readers context to the world that they live in. Being conscious of this role of fiction may strengthen your writing.

4. Readers Read to Understand People They Haven’t Met and Places They’ve Never Visited Fiction has the ability to help a person understand another person in a way that even television cannot. Fiction readers not only experience the protagonist’s point of view, but his innermost thoughts. They spend hours with his perspective and learning about his background. They think and care about someone very different from themselves. Fiction also allows readers to experience new settings. Not just sights and sounds, but smells, tastes, and touches. 

5. Readers Read to Be Entertained Yes, people still read to be entertained! I know it to be true. People read because they find it fun, interesting, and relaxing. 

https://thewritepractice.com/why-do-we-read/

•••••

The Case for Reading Fiction by Christine Seifert

Some of the most valuable skills that managers look for in employees are often difficult to define, let alone evaluate or quantify: self-discipline, self-awareness, creative problem-solving, empathy, learning agility, adaptiveness, flexibility, positivity, rational judgment, generosity, and kindness, among others. How can you tell if your future employees have these skills? And if your current team is lacking them, how do you teach them? Recent research in neuroscience suggests that [...] reading literary fiction helps people develop empathy, theory of mind, and critical thinking.

When we read, we hone and strengthen several different cognitive muscles, so to speak, that are the root of the EQ. In other words, the act of reading is the very activity—if done right—that can develop the qualities, traits, and characteristics of those employees that organizations hope to attract and retain.

High-level business leaders have long touted the virtues of reading. Warren Buffet, CEO of Berkshire Hathaway, spends most of his day reading and recommends reading 500 pages a day. Entrepreneur Mark Cuban says he reads more than three hours a day. Elon Musk, CEO of SpaceX, says he learned to build rockets by reading books. But business visionaries who extol the virtues of reading almost always recommend nonfiction. Buffet recommended 19 books in 2019; not one of the titles is fiction. Of the 94 books Bill Gates recommended over a seven-year period, only nine of them are fiction.

When it comes to reading, we may be assuming that reading for knowledge is the best reason to pick up a book. Research, however, suggests that reading fiction may provide far more important benefits than nonfiction. For example, reading fiction predicts increased social acuity and a sharper ability to comprehend other people’s motivations. Reading nonfiction might certainly be valuable for collecting knowledge, it does little to develop EQ, a far more elusive goal.

How Books Shape Employee Experiences: One reason fiction works so well in the workplace is that characters, plots, and settings in foreign locales help anchor difficult discussions. The narrative allows participants to work through sensitive and nuanced issues in an open and honest manner. For example, Nancy Kidder, a facilitator with the nonprofit organization Books@Work, recalled a workplace discussion about Chinua Achebe’s short story, “Dead Man’s Path.” In the story, a Nigerian headmaster named Michael Obi fails miserably when he attempts to modernize a rural school. When discussing the story, a team leader Kidder was working with noted that after participating in the discussion along with his team, they had a new language for discussing their work: “I drove execution in this way,” said one of the team members, “but I don’t want to be a Michael Obi here.”

Authentic sharing often means just putting folks together to discuss engaging texts. Joseph Badaracco, Professor of Business Ethics at Harvard, assigns Achebe’s works, along with other titles, like Sophocles’ Antigone, The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro, and Joseph Conrad’s short story “The Secret Sharer,” about a young and inexperienced ship captain who must make an important decision. Badaracco told HBR IdeaCast in 2013 that fiction provides an opportunity to complicate standard good versus evil tropes. Good literature presents characters with competing and often equally valid viewpoints. Business books, by their very nature, boil down issues until they are binary: this is right and that is not. In contrast, literature allows Badaracco’s students to see, for example, Creon’s allegiance to state and Antigone’s commitment to family and honor as equally valid positions—that cannot be easily rectified. Future business leaders won’t encounter the exact scenarios they read about, but they will be able to use an expanded ability to understand and respond to multiple competing viewpoints.

In Kidder’s experience, participants who read and discuss are more willing to tackle tough questions. Her participants have pondered questions about how we balance tradition with innovation; how we sometimes fail to see others’ viewpoints; and how we might listen to each other with more care. For instance, those seeking robust discussion about community connection might read Kindred by Octavia Butler, a science fiction novel that addresses the ways in which race shapes individual experience. Others, wanting to look at the familiar in an unfamiliar way, might read George Saunders’s short story, “Puppy,” about a child who wants a puppy only to discover that the puppy’s owner is keeping a boy on a leash. The point of reading in this way is to develop cognitive agility and acuity. It’s about reading to develop those in-demand emotional skills.

Why Reading Works:  Research suggests that reading literary fiction is an effective way to enhance the brain’s ability to keep an open mind while processing information, a necessary skill for effective decision-making. In a 2013 study, researchers examined something called the need for cognitive closure, or the desire to “reach a quick conclusion in decision-making and an aversion to ambiguity and confusion.” Individuals with a strong need for cognitive closure rely heavily on “early information cues,” meaning they struggle to change their minds as new information becomes available. They also produce fewer individual hypotheses about alternative explanations, which makes them more confident in their own initial (and potentially flawed) beliefs. A high need for cognitive closure also means individuals gravitate toward smaller bits of information and fewer viewpoints. Individuals who resist the need for cognitive closure tend to be more thoughtful, more creative, and more comfortable with competing narratives—all characteristics of high EQ.

University of Toronto researchers discovered that individuals in their study who read short stories (as opposed to essays) demonstrated a lower need for cognitive closure. That result is not surprising given that reading literature requires us to slow down, take in volumes of information, and then change our minds as we read. There’s no easy answer in literature; instead, there’s only perspective-taking. As readers, we’ll almost certainly find Lolita’s narrator Humbert Humbert odious, but we are forced to experience how he thinks, a valuable exercise for decreasing our need for cognitive closure. Furthermore, the researchers point out that when we are talking about someone else’s actions, we don’t feel compelled to defend ourselves. We can have conversations that might not happen in any other context, at least not with the same level of honesty.

Investing in Reading: CEOs may be reluctant to invest the kind of time, money, and energy facilitated literary reading and discussion requires, but initial reports suggest that instructor-led literature groups are useful. Marvin Riley, President and CEO of EnPro Industries, a manufacturing company, was looking for ways to enhance the company’s “dual bottom line culture.” Riley wanted to “establish psychological safety, practice collaboration, embrace an idea-meritocracy, utilize critical thinking, and above all, create high personal engagement.”

Riley invited Books@Work to work with up to 20 participants at a time over several sessions. Participants read short stories and/or novels, which they then discussed together during work hours, guided by their facilitator. Riley credits the program with increasing work teams’ candor and general ability to communicate effectively through a shared language.

While there is no specific academic data on how incorporating guided literature study into workplace training and development programming impacts employees, research on reading shows literature study to be one of the best methods for building empathy critical thinking, and creativity. Maryanne Wolf, cognitive scientist and author of Reader, Come Home, argues that “the quality of our reading” stands as “an index to the quality of our thought.” If we want better thinkers in the business world, we have to build better readers.

https://hbr.org/2020/03/the-case-for-reading-fiction

[glenngaylord]

MY MOMENTS OUT OF TIME IN FILM 2019

Instead of a Top 10 List, every year I like to honor a long-discontinued but influential annual column from Film Comment magazine. I couldn’t wait for my father to come home from work with the “Moments Out Of Time” issue.  The writers would cite their favorite scenes, images, or lines of dialogue, even from films they may not have liked, because let’s face it, even bad films may have a great moment or two.

The year brought us so many wonderful films.  Parasite wowed me with its ability to surprise while telling an important story about class divisions.  I think Once Upon A Time In…Hollywood will stop me in my tracks over and over again with its immersive deep dive into late 1960s Los Angeles.  The female-on-female gaze gets a workout in the stunning Portrait Of A Lady On Fire, while Jojo Rabbit masterfully walks a tightrope between hilarious and moving.  Watching Eddie Murphy return firing on all cylinders in Dolemite Is My Name remains one of the most joyous movie experiences of the year. Yet, even I can’t see them all, but here, in no particular order, are my Moments Out Of Time in film for 2019:

A door opens, someone calls out “Honey?”, as the plot veers off in a jaw-droppingly unexpected, biggest WTF of the year direction, turning a light class comedy into something far, far, deeper- Parasite

Upon the assassination of JFK, his enemy, Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino) orders the half mast flag in front of the Teamsters' Union to be raised back to its standard position.  As Hoffa looks up at the flag, this chilling, diabolical scene feels like the end of civil society as we know it - The Irishman

“Climb in my fur” - my favorite line of dialogue last year, cementing Jennifer Lopez’s Ramona as an iconic film character who can take sexual innuendo and turn it into an invitation for friendship - Hustlers

“That was the best acting I’ve ever seen in my whole life” - dialogue runner up as a young actress (Julia Butters) whispers into the insecure but committed actor Rick Dalton’s (Leonardo DiCaprio) ear, causing him to weep uncontrollably and giving him the recognition he’s always craved - Once Upon A Time In…Hollywood

A boy spies a flitting butterfly and stands up to get a better look, notices a pair of shoes next to him, and in an instant his entire life heartbreakingly changes - Jojo Rabbit

A vacationing family looks out their window to see…themselves…lined up and waiting to invade their home - Us

A gate which will no longer close on its own.  Two estranged parents and their child manually slide it shut with the barrier separating them from each other.  The battle lines have been drawn with deft precision - Marriage Story

A woman stares at another across a theater.  They have a history.  The symphony plays a striking, propulsive piece which both women know so well.  A searing two minute close-up of the women she sees betrays her anguish, the pain, the missed opportunities, and the suffering of a woman who society demanded could not be herself - Portrait Of A Lady On Fire

Best final scene of the year: Two best friends sit in a car curbside at an airport.  They awkwardly exchange awkward pleasantries even though we can tell they’re really going to miss each other.  A delicate cover of “Unchained Melody” plays over stellar performances of Kaitlyn Dever walking away and Beanie Feldstein looking forelorn, both conveying that painful moment when high school besties part.  Then, suddenly remembering it’s a hilarious comedy, Feldstein almost crashes into Dever, who gets back in the car and they decide they have enough time to get pancakes.  Feldstein yells, “F*ck yeah!” as we smash cut to black - Booksmart

While he’s wanted inside at his premiere, Rudy Ray Moore can’t walk away from the fans waiting outside the theatre, choosing instead to give himself over to them and melting everyone’s hearts, including mine, in the process - Dolemite Is My Name

Wait!  This guy is at your Passover Seder?  You’re related to him?  Now I’m scared - Uncut Gems

A milked cow.  A barn.  A dogfight up in the skies above.  A knife. Two soldiers foraging for food, safety, and a chance to survive the next minute.  Everything changes. - 1917

Matthew McConaughey as Baker Dill (!) spends most of his time howling to the heavens or completely naked, and for these reasons, I will never forget this terrible, amazing film experience - Serenity

When she forgets the words to her signature song, the audience sings them for her, making us all realize that even though she was close to death, the memory of her will never fade away - Judy

Normally, I’d be delighted to open my window and see Isabelle Huppert staring at me from across the street, but here, it’s a hauntingly nightmarish image - Greta

Julianne Moore sings along to an Air Supply song in her car and somehow manages to make her lapse in taste seem heartfelt - Gloria Bell

I love comedic moments built from repetition or missed connections.  When Jack (Himesh Patel) can’t get his parents to sit still for a moment so that he can convince them he wrote the song “Let It Be”, his incredulousness and frustration strikes comedy gold - Yesterday

A young writer negotiates her terms with a publisher, gloriously finding her voice and her power at a time where such bravery seemed impossible - Little Women

A drunk, lonely, middle-aged woman dances alone in a small town honky tonk to Leon Russell’s “Out Of The Woods”, giving us a glimpse into her less austere past - Diane

A dildo with a retractable switch blade - Knife + Heart

What do the sounds of Elton John and Bernie Taupin’s songs look like?  A man crashing out of a window and joining a dancing flash mob at a carnival to “Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting” felt alive and electric, Yet, even more so, in a moment achieving some level of transcendence, Elton (a fantastic Taron Egerton) falls sideways off of a diving board into a pool where his boyhood self plays the title song on a piano at the bottom.  That we somehow end up at Dodger Stadium where a sparkly Elton greets his fans and flies up into the stratosphere makes his classic soar - Rocketman

A grunge pop star/recovering addict (Elizabeth Moss), not too dissimilar to Courtney Love, sits at a piano and performs a sober rendition of Bryan Adams’ “Heaven”, stripping away the outrageous bravado to quietly break out hearts - Her Smell

“Agency” seems to be on everyone’s lips when describing dynamic, plot-driving lead characters, but Leo’s (star in the making Félix Maritaud) choices don’t fit into a standard box.  His decision, like it or not, is all his. - Sauvage/Wild

In a film filled to the brim with unforgettable, emotionally-laden images, its final shot of a man rowing a boat across turbulent waters moved me to tears - The Last Black Man In San Francisco

To learn from a documentary that the Ten Commandments monuments on display in front of many City Halls across the U.S. resulted from a Charlton Heston-led publicity tour for his 1956 movie epic is to realize, painfully so, that sometimes Hollywood and not the Churches, ruins everything! - Hail Satan?

Although, sooner or later, most of us will end up in a patch of dirt, some long for that moment more than others and find beauty in it - High Life

Watching Laura Dern pull off one of the most notorious literary scandals of modern times gives us one of the most original kicks of the year in a scene with an interviewer.  She hides in plain sight as a novelist pretending to be the terribly British Manager to Kristen Stewart’s fake face of the same novelist in order to build mystique and sell more books - J.T. LeRoy

Who knew that a CGI-animated film for the whole family would have the most bone-chilling sequence of the year?  But there it was in an antique store with Gabby Gabby and the creepy ventriloquist dummies - Toy Story 4

A woman enters her drab Chinese hotel room only to be asked if the U.S. is better by the anxious bellboy.  Afraid to offend him, she merely tells him it’s different.  The things we do to ease the pain of the less fortunate. - The Farewell

Three women.  An elevator on its way to the chairman’s office.  The sideways glances.  The knowledge they all have of what awaits them.  A silent sisterhood until Nicole Kidman’s Gretchen Carlson awkwardly comments, “Hot in here”.  The year’s best calibrated scene - Bombshell

An out gay actor, Mark Patton, confronts the writer of the film which ruined his career and gets an apology.  The years of pain written across his face don’t go away, but a little weight of the world gets lifted from his very relieved, very courageous shoulders - Scream Queen!  My Nightmare On Elm Street

While Tarantino played around with historical revisionist wish fulfillment, director Mary Herron and writer Guinevere Turner tapped into female rage in telling the story of the Manson murders.  When Hannah Murray as Leslie Van Houten carries out one of the murders, screaming as she plunges a knife into someone, we get a rare glimpse into finally understanding what brought her to that point - Charlie Says

After Lily Collins’s Liz demands, “ Release me…what happened to her head?” as a way for doomed serial killer Ted Bundy (a chilling Zac Efron) to admit his guilt, he finally writes with his finger on the glass prison visitor’s window which separates them, one frightening word, “Hacksaw” only to wipe it away immediately - Extremely Wicked Shockingly Evil And Vile

A gay white man and his straight, non-English speaking Latino handyman bond over Madonna’s “Borderline” in the back seat of an Uber.  Matt Bomer’s angsty character finally relaxes and connects with this adorable man (Alejandro Patiño) doing ridiculously cute seated dance moves - Papi Chulo

A young woman rushes to her apartment bathroom and in a seamless transition, she emerges down the aisle of a plane headed for Sweden - Midsommar

Sometimes one can derive great pleasure from a film by simply listening to how Adam Driver says the word “ghouls” - The Dead Don’t Die

An actress known primarily for her own murder gleefully watches herself on the big screen in a Westwood Village movie theater, and in that moment, we finally experience the gorgeous humanity and not the horrendous end of this lovely person - Once Upon A Time In…Hollywood

When you have an icy, almost robotic main character, you need Alfre Woodard to masterfully play drunk and show you all of her other shades - Clemency

I don’t care if the film felt like a xerox copy of the original or if the CGI ruined everything, because Billy Eichner’s Timon arrives at a now barren, picked apart Pride Rock and blurts out,  “Talk about a fixer-upper. I think you went heavy on the carcass.”  - The Lion King

When was the last time you saw a film where a character stops the action to demand of another, “I want you to know about me!”? - The Peanut Butter Falcon

A young Irish indentured servant in 1825 Tasmania watches helplessly as a soldier kills her baby just to stop its crying, and that’s only the beginning of a long line of justifications for her rage - The Nightingale

Nothing like a well-placed coffee mug to illustrate your main theme in the final image of your movie - Knives Out

Tracy Letts’ Henry Ford II feels the sheer power of one of his race cars and provides the most beautiful, unexpected crying scene of the year - Ford v. Ferrari

The funniest crossing a busy freeway scene since Eddie Murphy attempted it in 1999’s Bowfinger - Good Boys

A split second choice at what should have been a routine traffic stop changes the lives of our unlucky, racially profiled, sweet, smart but “not a match” Tinder date protagonists - Queen & Slim

A passport inspector asks, “Purpose of your visit?”  The young man replies, “I’m going to see Bruce Springsteen’s hometown.”  As he stamps his papers, the inspector responds, “I can’t think of a better reason to visit the United States than to see the home of The Boss” - Blinded By The Light

A horribly brutalized gay man wafts to shore only to see the haunting image of a scary clown reaching out to perhaps save him?  Nah, he’s a midnight snack - It Chapter 2

A young child, caught between his parents arguing over the phone, conveys painful messages to the supposed adults in the equation - Honey Boy

Sometimes an unreturned text can send you spiraling so far out of control that you ruin your life and everyone else’s around you - Waves

That last moment of bliss between a husband and wife right before their quiet mountaintop hamlet gets invaded by the sounds of planes overheard and the Nazis arriving to recruit them - A Hidden Life

You may have gotten in shape, but without true growth, the fat girl inside you won’t hesitate to shame another - Brittany Runs A Marathon

Gabriel Luna wins the award for sexiest performance in a terrible movie as a new killing machine decked out in tight pants and a killer stare - Terminator: Dark Fate

A mentally disturbed aspiring comic turned homicidal maniac disastrously makes his late night talk show debut, posing ominously backstage, skipping out with a bizarre tap twirl flourish, and then…well…like a true comic…he kills - Joker

Alec Baldwin, in a stunning monologue, basically shows us the early rise of people like Donald Trump, as all sense of hope gets sapped away - Motherless Brooklyn

An old sailor and his new charge stare down the camera right at us, somehow letting us know that we have no idea what bleak is, so hold on tight - The Lighthouse

A farmer (a never better Bill Camp) barges in on a corporate lawyer to get him to investigate the dying cattle in his hometown.  From such humble beginnings comes something which affects every single one of us - Dark Waters

An aspiring Scottish country singer sneaks away from her Grand Ole Opry tour group to sing alone on the main stage and perhaps get discovered. When she learns that everybody does that, she realizes she isn’t that special after all - Wild Rose

Biggest cinematic moment of dread: When a Chinese billionaire reopens a shuttered Ohio GM plant and hires back some of the workers at half their salaries and without benefits, you know you’ve just boarded a slow moving train to hell - American Factory

Did he do it?  Is he a terrorist?  Or is he a good guy?  How much of his tragic past is still present within him?  That final image will keep me guessing forever - Luce

A devoted Chinese Communist Party Member and abortion specialist knows she can never redeem herself from the part she played in ruining so many lives - One Child Nation

You may take issue with the implications that her real life character traded sex for intel and that she’s no longer alive to defend herself,  but Olivia Wilde gave one of the most vivid, exciting, ballsy performances of the year - Richard Jewell

An actual minute of silence in a film would normally be its death knell, but when Tom Hanks as Mr. Rogers demands it, we rethink our own hurried, impulsive lives - A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood

Sure she overdid it.  Yes she had an odd, hairy, uncanny face and strangely manicured nails for days.  Overwrought doesn’t even begin to describe it, but when she hits that big note and belts out, “Touch me / It’s so easy to leave me / All alone with the memory / Of my days in the sun”, damned if I didn’t snot cry right along with her - Cats