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malethirsty · 4 years

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Magnetic: Cleen Rock One

Cleen’s Garage

Summary: You & your neighbour Cleen had massive chemistry, but both of you had not made a move, however this was about to change.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback, Daddy Kink

Inspired by: https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1197343521524477952?s=21, https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1197343534040268800?s=21, https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1197343544781897728?s=21, https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1197343557218004992?s=21 & https://twitter.com/malethirst/status/1197343646623752192?s=21

The old saying was ‘Neighbors should be there for one another. That’s when good neighbors become good friends’ but you were past being friends at this point. Your neighbor in question: Cleen Rock One. The tattooer moved in a while back & you were fascinated by him. You thought he would push around a sweet thing like you, but anything but. He approached you to use your tools to fix a car he was working on, you struck up a conversation & things went from there.

However more recently, you’d began to see him without his tank tops and you were getting horny. Once you’d seen him washing his car shirtless and covered in grease as he worked below the car as well, you’d spent a solid half an hour masturbating to him. Handshakes became longer, you hung onto every word he said, you were crushing hard, but would he accept you? That’s what was stopping you from saying anything.

However across the road at Cleen’s house, he also was going through the same thing you were. After meeting you, he could no longer watch his straight porn without thinking of you in the position of the woman he wanted to fuck. He would wank & think of you, and when that happened, he had the most Earth shattering orgasms. Whilst having his reservations about telling you (his thoughts mainly that you were long distance with someone else), he was also braver, which led to him breaking the tension.

You were hanging around your house, thinking of seeing if you could visit Cleen, when he texted you. As you checked it, you saw something that made you both halt and cause your stomach to drop. Cleen’s message said the following ‘Enough of this tension, My house NOW’ Had he worked out your crush? Had you said something to upset him? Either way, you dressed up professionally and went over to his house. The front door was unlocked as per usual, so you walked in. “Cleen?” You asked into the open house “In the garage man.” Came his reply. At least he wasn’t mad at you, or his reply would have been more serious, gaining a bit more confidence. You crossed over and opened the garage door, stepping down into the room “Cleen, what’s u-“ you stopped gazing at your friend. Cleen was standing in the garage a towel covering below his torso, no other clothes anywhere “This is what’s up.” He answered your question, grabbing his stiff cock “I can tell you want me, and I mean who wouldn’t. But you’ve stayed in my mind more than anyone else, you occupy my thoughts all day, when I’m working on my car, tattooing, I even think about you when I watch porn, and I masturbate to the thought of throwing you on my car and fucking you so hard, you’ll practically marry me right there and then. I need to know, do you want this dick?”

‘Wow’ that’s all you could think. Everything you had wanted was fully blossoming now, and all you had to do was say the word. “Yes” Cleen undid his towel, and you finally got to see his massive cock. It was 10 inches, thick as could be, fat and massive, it was as beautiful as the man who had it. Cleen grinned “Come here babe”, you crossed the garage floor and pulled Cleen into a kiss, his tongue getting in. You wrapped your legs around Cleen, pulling him in further. “Fuck, you’re eager!” Cleen remarked, laughing a bit “Damn right I am, I’ve been in love with you Cleen for a long while, but I didn’t say anything cause you didn’t clue me in. I mean straight acting men who fuck men often look like they’ll beat the shit out of you” Cleen shoved you to the ground “Like that?” you nodded “I’d prefer you have your full voice yelling as I fuck you hard, so you need to save it by sucking my dick!” You obeyed him, licking his tip, earning groans from the heavily tattooed man “FUCK, take it cocksucker. When you swallow it, we’ll be in fuckin heaven!” He yelled in appreciation, shoving himself forwards, and into your waiting mouth, as if on auto pilot, you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in.

“OH FUCK YES!” Cleen threw his head back, eyes rolling back as well “Fucking take me Y/N, take me deep into your mouth!” His nestled his hands in your head, getting a tight grip as he thrusted hard. To his utter delight, you had no gag reflex, so you could take his entire cock “Fuck Y/N, go up and down, make daddy feel good.” You did as he instructed and Cleen continued his rough pace. As you sucked him deeper down your throat, you also took the opportunity to roll his balls, making the tattooist scream “OH YES! FUCKING HELL Y/N, YOU KEEP GOING AND I’LL CUM!” With your confidence now on a record high, you decided ‘Fuck it, why not?’ You fought back against Cleen’s slack hands & sucked his balls, the man’s breathing now raggedly being drawn. “YES! Just like that. Fuck, you’re really gonna make me cum before I fuck you? You’re a slut for cum, aren’t you, you want nothing more than for a man to shoot his load, if you keep it up oh- I’m- oh fuck- gonna. FUCK I’M GONNA CUM! I- I’M GONNA! AHHHHHHHH!” Cleen shot load after load over you and you watched above, as your friend gasped for breath and words.

Eventually he stopped, removing his hands from your head. Slumping down, you went to check on him, worried at first “Cleen, are you ok?” He looked up and grinned “Yeah, you look so hot with my load all over your face!” Cleen grabbed his phone on a station table and snapped pictures “Yeah Y/N, looking like a damn slut, model my load all over your face, I don’t need no damn porn star to jerk off to now, I have you & these pictures.” A sence of pride beaming inside you, you continued to make seductive poses, making sure that Cleen would have a great time working a load out and judging from his rehardening dick, you were doing a good job. “Now I appreciate you got all fancy to see me, but I think the clothes will look better on the floor.” Cleen placed his phone down, and ripped your vest open, buttons flying everywhere, ripping off your shirt as well. He took off your pants, and threw them down “Fuck Cleen! I won’t be able to go back across the street!” Cleen grinned “I can give you cover clothes, but right now, I think you’ll be staying the night so I can fuck you all over my house.” This made you both intrigued and horny. Once you were as naked as him, Cleen leaned over & kissed you. “Get up on the car bonnet.”

As Cleen lubed up at the station, you spread yourself out, legs as well, giving Cleen a good view of your ass. “Fuck man” he groaned, shoving a finger in to prepare you “You look hotter than a blonde broad in heat, and you’re all mine” he added another finger, making you moan as he turned them. “Fuck Cleen, you’re fucking hot!” “Yeah, moan for me slut, who’s your daddy?” “Cleen Rock One!” You yelled out “Who is the only one that can make you hard?” “Cl-Cleen Rock One” you repeated “And who’s about to pull his fingers out & fuck you till you cum?” “Cl- Oh God!” You moaned as he found your G-Spot “Yeah, who’s your God babe, how do you worship now?” “CLEEN ROCK ONE!” You bellowed out, not caring who heard. “Fucking damn right it’s me!” Cleen removed his fingers & shoved his cock into your ass.

You yelled at his size, falling back onto the car, using the strength you did have to wrap your legs around him, holding him in place. You didn’t want him prolonging you, you were beyond that now. You and him, that’s all you both wanted. “Fuck bitch, your ass is so fucking tight” he groaned out, pounding away like a man in desperation. You tried to grasp onto something to hold onto but couldn’t find anything, Cleen hammering into you the only thing you could focus on “Fuck yes daddy” “Yeah baby boy take daddy’s big cock. Women can’t handle me properly, but you know how, so perfect for daddy.” The praise was so hot to hear, you lent up to kiss Cleen, sweat falling from both of you, as you groaned together, the tension hot as all hell.

Cleen moaned out loud “Oh fuck Y/N, you’re leaking precum!” Cleen wanked your cock, collected it and licked it up “You taste amazing. I can’t wait for your shot load!” He began to pound even rougher, causing you to scream and yell “CLEEN, FUCK ME!” Cleen lost all composure, fucking into you with so much passion, you saw your vision go white “Fuck yeah Y/N, you gonna cum?” You nodded, Cleen seizing your cock & pumping it fast with no limits. “Fuck Cleen, you’re gonna make me c-F-UCK!” You shot your load, it landing on your chest face & also on Cleen’s face “Fuck! That’s some pent up load hey bud.” Cleen laugh snarled, dipping his fingers onto your face to clean up your load mixed with his from earlier, sucking his finger into his mouth “Fuck man, you’ve gotta taste this.” His pace suddenly went even faster as he was determined to shoot his load. “Fuck bud, I’m not gonna last much longer, Fuck I’m almost there, clench around me man. FUUUUCCCCKKKK!”

Liter after liter of his load was shot into your ass as Cleen moaned out loud, slumping onto you, mixing your load with his tattoos. Moving his hand down, he scooped up his dripping load and smeared it on his tattoos, right over the heart one. “Lick it up babe.” Cleen groaned, you obeying instantly despite being puffed. It tasted like honey & sugar “Oh fuck Cleen!” “Yeah, good ain’t it. That was the best fuck I’ve ever had.” After calming down, Cleen eventually moved away “Want anything from the fridge?” He asked you “You have chilled water?” “Yeah, I’ll fix you some ice cream as well. We might have a use for it later it depends.” You grinned, you had finally got the man you wanted, this day was perfect.

#Cleen Rock One #Male Reader #Cleen Rock One x Male Reader #Ink Master #Ink Master: Grudge Match #Ink Master Smut #Ink Master: Grudge Match Smut

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unreadpoppy · 3 years

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I’m watching Ink Master season 11 and I’m losing my shit with this sibling rivalry between Kyle and Jimmy, cause for real, I feel the only reason they’re even getting this riled up is because they’re brothers cause I keep seeing it and just thinking mate you”re ON THE SAME TEAM

#ink master #season 11: grudge match

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thomas-the-goat-of-satan · 3 years

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me while watching Ink Master Grudge Match: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, 300K words-

#ink master grudge master #show #cloey talks ink master #mine

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nepascene · 5 years

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jeanatem · 4 years

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Gimme Your Answers: A Video Interview w/ Cleen Rock One

Interview by Alicia Atout | @AliciaAtout This is an interview filmed earlier this year that I hope everyone enjoys watching as much as I enjoyed filming. Ink Master winner, Ink Master: Grudge Match coach, and all around badass artist Cleen Rock One joins me for this super behind the scenes and interesting conversation (I learned... from Alicia Atout https://ift.tt/33Z8EWx via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Alicia Atout

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jxyou · 2 years

Photo

My name is Dane smith

Skied my first tree run Colorado black diamond this year. At Breckinridge And Keystone

I own

Fountain square tattoo llc

Cream tattoo supply llc

Mystery fun club llc

And still tattoo.

I was also on ink master season 9

Ink master grudge match.

3176581122

@dsmithtattoos

[email protected]

#JxYOU #Jskis #skiart #submission

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kyuu-rereads-umineko · 7 years

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Ep6, Chapter 8 & 9 (Part 1)

“think of her as my daughter” “is it okay if i date her then” “what” “what”

The chapter opens on Kumasawa and Chick in... Uh, Battler’s meta-study? I guess? who even knows anymore

The two of them set out a plate of cookies for Battler. D’aww.

In, uh... i don’t even know anymore but at any rate, Elder comments on Chick “sparing no efforts for the sake of her beloved Father.” Yasu really, truly loved Battler, didn’t she...

“To think that I would give Battler cookies... Why should I, the ruler of the night, do so much for a guest who comes so rarely?” lol

Ooof, and then Battler returns, clearly not too happy to see Chick and Kumasawa there. Kumasawa explains that Chick baked the cookies on the table for him as a gift.

“Battler looked at the plate on the study desk that was piled up with beautiful cookies... and the message card of encouragement lying next to it, and his face twisted with a complex expression, which might have had traces of both sadness and anger contained within it...”

He does thank her for the gift, but goes on to say he “doesn’t like sweets.” “I am grateful for her feelings. ...I’m in the middle of a vital game right now. This is the final game... and it’s vital both for me... and Beato as well. So please. Try not to trouble me any more than is necessary.”

Kumasawa balks and tries convincing Battler to at least try one, clearly quite upset about it. “Master, do you think there might be poison inside them!?”

“...Yeah. If Beato ever came to give me cookies... Of course I’d think that she’d put some kind of crazy poison in them...” I can’t help but feel sympathetic for both of them, here. Battler’s wracked with guilt over the end of the last game and what he did to Beato, and Chick doesn’t understand what she’s done wrong (because she hasn’t, really) to warrant the cold treatment he’s giving her... It’s really sad.

In Featherine’s study, Ange seems unsure of what to think. “I don’t have a clue why Onii-chan and Beato act so friendly together. Right now, I think of Beato as our greatest enemy, the one we must defeat... Still, even so... As a woman, I... can’t say I like Onii-chan’s reaction.”

“Onii-chan’s reason for defeating Beato isn’t to destroy an enemy out of hatred... It feels like he wants to give a sincere answer to her questions.”

“...Beatrice. I want to ask you something.” wait is this

“When Ange asked her question, Beato, who had been reading a Fragment book in the shadows of the study, jumped.” oh fuck it is

i was going to say “so let’s recap here” and go over the like fifty different layers of meta here but i don’t even know where to start, oh well let’s try anyway

so we’re reading a story (umineko) about a story (forgery dawn) written by a character in-universe (tohya) about two characters (featherine and ange) reading a story (kakera dawn) about another character (beato), and ange turns around to ask someone else (also beato) a question about the story she is in

i hate this

Anyways, back on track. Ange cuts right to the point, asking Chick why she calls Battler “Father.” She repeats what she’s said before - that Battler created her - and Ange asks why she’s so dedicated to him in the first place. “It’s almost as though... that’s your goal as a piece.”

“Yes... That is the goal that gave birth to me.” Ange asks if Battler gave her that role, and Featherine clarifies that he merely “set a piece with that goal” on the board - and, furthermore, that the first game master - Beato as we know her - was the one to create Chick to begin with.

“...Aaaah, this is getting confusing.” ANGE

Ange summarizes that Chick calls Battler “Father” affectionately, in part because he was the one to put her on the board to begin with, and then asks who gave her the goal of devoting herself to Battler in the first place - only to realize that the answer is the original Beato, who isn’t around to explain anymore.

“I will... do anything for Father... My existence will bring him happiness. ...That is my one and only pleasure... And... And... if I could one day have Father acknowledge my efforts... it would be my one and only joy...”

oh god hope started playing help

“...What the hell. If you only wanted to serve him, I’d say you’re just another furniture of the witch... but you want him to acknowledge your efforts? That’s less like furniture and more like...” And then it clicks: “That’s less like furniture and more like... you’re just a girl... who loves Onii-chan.”

“The guiding force behind this Beato’s actions... is that of a girl who adores Onii-chan. But then, what does that make this Beato? If the first Beato liked Onii-chan, then she should’ve adored him and done things for him herself. Why would she create ‘a piece of herself,’ a separate entity, to do it...? This way... even if she does attract Onii-chan’s attention, it will be towards the piece version of herself, not the creator who made that piece. [...] It’s as though this love is destined to go unrewarded... No matter how devoted she is, she will never get anything out of it.”

“That’s right... This Beato was created as a ‘piece’... because of an impossible reason...”

Ange and Chick discuss the old Beato a bit more, and Chick decides to start calling Battler “Battler-san” instead of Father. She goes back to reading her Fragment book, as dedicated as ever...

Back in the tale itself, Battler’s sitting alone in the study. “There was no colour in this dimly lit room. However... for just the short time that the plate of cookies had been placed there, the room had seemed at least a little cheery...”

He summons an image of the cookies on the desk and just sorta looks at them... then summons a piece of the old Beato. “Come ooon, have a bite~ It’s not every day that I’ll make these by hand...! Have no fear, I’m confident in how well they’ve turned out.”

One by one, he summons a few of the other magic characters - Ronove, Virgilia, Gaap, etc. - and has them make a pithy comment of some sort. Battler ends up reaching out for the plate, only for everyone to disappear just before he touches it... that is, everyone except for Beato.

Even though this is basically a conversation Battler’s having with himself, there’s a lot of interest to it. “...The more the new ‘me’ differs from the form you wished for... the more you are reminded that I can never be revived again, correct...?” Battler starts crying, though he also says, “If you never appear again... that’d be a relief.”

“The ‘me’ you were expecting... has already disappeared. My soul, femininity, sparkling personality, and splendid character were cultivated in a thousand years spent as a witch. Unless an exactly identical thousand years is traversed, it is impossible to become me.” Battler comments that Bern’s already guaranteed Beato will never be revived, and Beato retorts that Battler’s hoping for it regardless.

“One day, the new ‘me’ trips and lands on her head, and all her memories of the past are restored! ...You were hoping for something like that, weren’t you? Ahahahahahaha! A delusional plot like that wouldn’t even pass in a light novel these days!”

Battler comments that Beato was hoping for pretty much the same thing from him in the past, and she goes silent. “Does this mean... that our relationship... is exactly the opposite now of how it once was...?”

“...Well, at times, I did continue the game believing that you would eventually notice and remember, that a miracle would occur.” Battler asks her how it felt, and she cackles and tells him to “look inside his own heart.”

Battler reflects on how maybe he’d be able to cope better if Chick didn’t like the same as Beato herself, and she says, “Well, do as you wish. In the past, I toyed with you and tormented you... Now’s your chance for revenge against me.”

“...I would if it was you. It’d probably make me feel a lot better. ...But... that Beato... isn’t you.”

“Because the new Beato seems like a different person, I can’t accept her. Even though I know she’s a different person... she keeps reminding me of Beato’s face.”

“In that case... why not think of her as my daughter?”

oh no thanks for being born is playing now I’m actually crying

“She does share my blood, so consider her a daughter that closely resembles me. After all, she is my double, but hasn’t lived a thousand years, so calling her that is not incongruous. Imagine that I have died, left behind a daughter... and entrusted her to you. That way, won’t it become a little easier to think of how to deal with her?”

“You are free to press my likeness upon her. You may also let loose your pent up resentment on her in my place. Making her bear my sins and torturing her as you please may calm your grudge. If that doesn’t match your tastes, you can also guide her down the right path so that she does not end up on the inhumane road that I have tread. [...] ...With a miracle of a thousand years, she might even become me.”

With that, Battler realizes just how harsh he was being to Chick earlier, and notices that the card she left with her cookies is on the floor... except he can’t read it through his tears (or the ink is smudged by his tears, I’m not entirely sure which tbh).

Meanwhile, back on the board, Shannon, George, Kanon, and Jessica have been transported into Zepar and Furfur’s smoking room... lounge... thing. magic gonna magic

Shannon’s apparently told George a bit about what’s going to happen, leaving Jessica as the only one completely in the dark. He mentions “a test for a pair of lovers,” though.

Shannon and Kanon put the two halves of the brooch back together, and it shatters, unleashing Zepar and Furfur. YESSSS HERE WE GO

BEAAATORIIIIIIIIICHEEE

And then the two Beatos appear, right... Elder introduces Chick as her “double and little sister.” bern wasn’t kidding when she said beatrice didn’t necessarily mean “a single woman” back in ????1 huh

Zepar and Furfur explain that with the brooch broken, their work is almost done - “It was decided when the contract was made. It was decided that we must lend our power one more time before our final farewell.”

“So, this is truly the final miracle!”

Elder goes on to explain. “Those gathered here are ones cursed to have unsuccessful love unless a miracle occurs. The power of the golden butterfly brooch, which can grant this miracle, is your last chance, and like it or not, this chance is limited to this evening! This miracle can be given only to a single pair!”

Jessica does not take this well at all, understandably. When Shannon asks, Kanon says, “I didn’t know... how I should explain it.” Chick expresses confusion as well, asking Elder if she can’t explain it any better.

“With our blessing, the pair can cultivate their love at their leisure! No need to worry about suspicious demons!” “However, without our blessing, your love will vanish, disappear, wither, and decay.” Jessica angrily asks why.

“Because it is fate!! You may choose not to accept it, you may choose not to resist it!!” yeah i feel like i should have something to say here but really this is pretty blatant isn’t it

“Ushiromiya Jessica, the future you two share is far more grim than you realize.” YEAH NO KIDDING

Elder repeats what’s been said before - unless he and Jessica win, Kanon will end up leaving the island, never to return. “You will probably leave the island yourself in search of the one you love, but such a venture will doubtless be in vain!”

Jessica’s pretty angry, but she remembers something Kanon told her a long time ago - namely, that if Shannon were to ever stop working on Rokkenjima, he’d probably quit as well. Yasu really did think of everything, didn’t she?

On the other hand, if Kanon and Jessica were to win, Kanon would stay on the island with her, and they’d be able to develop their relationship from there... but, in return, George and Shannon won’t get together, though it’s not explained why (yet, at least).

“Without the power of the golden butterfly brooch, neither love is fated to bear fruit.”

Jessica, understandably, asks why the hell that is, and Elder replies, “It is due to your sin of falling in love with furniture, which is not allowed to love.”

George suggests looking at it as a test “to see who can display the strength of their feelings more strongly.”

“When I gave Shannon that engagement ring, I swore to fight all trials and barriers that stand in my way. ...No matter how unreasonable or incomprehensible these trials might be... I cannot choose to avoid them.”

“...We must fight openly for that single miracle. Even if I lose at the end... I’ll be able to accept it if we both gave it our all. And because of that, I will be able to cheer on the victors from the bottom of my heart.”

Shannon apologizes, saying that she’s “determined not to flinch in her resolve,” despite knowing what’ll inevitably happen to Jessica and Kanon’s relationship if she and George win. God, I can understand why Yasu would’ve felt so horrible about this...

“Love brings about conflict, and this conflict gives rise to determination. As the demons of love, [Zepar and Furfur] could understand more fully than any others how noble that determination was...” god

And then Elder comments that Chick is just as eligible for this miracle as the other two pairs of lovers. Hey readers are we getting the hint here yet huh

“With the miracle of the golden butterfly brooch... even your wish... your wish that your affection for Battler will be acknowledged, can be granted easily. ...And without a miracle... you also can never be bound to him.”

Zepar and Furfur state that they were planning on including Chick from the beginning. Jessica, Kanon, George, and Shannon all agree to it and restate their resolve, and Elder asks Chick if she feels the same way.

“...Yes... If there is even a small chance that Father - ah, no... that Battler-san will acknowledge me, I’m willing to put myself on the line.”

And so the demons of love declare, “Let’s begin this trial of lovers, the fight over a single miracle of magic...!!”

Meanwhile, Erika’s gone up to her room on the second floor of the guesthouse. This time around, it’s on the other end of the hall from the cousins’ room. gg batora

She tries making some of her duct tape (or packing tape, as of the Mangagamer release, but we haven’t switched to that yet so shhh) seals from the previous game, only to find out it’s not sticky enough to be used for... pretty much anything, let alone her seals.

“Letting Erika get her hands on duct tape gave her a fatal weapon to use against witches.” i’m just quoting this because i love how it sounds out of context

Dlanor points out that in all likelihood, any substitutes for the tape have also been tampered with, meaning Erika’s out of luck. She kinda takes it in stride and flops over on the bed, clearly in a bad mood.

“...Why do you hate magic, Lady Erika? [Maria’s cup-and-candy magic] was nothing more than a foolish trick to deceive CHILDREN. Everyone knew THAT... Was it really necessary to go so far to destroy that ILLUSION?”

Erika replies with, “Well, I am a self-proclaimed intellectual rapist. I can’t stand having magic confuse the truth.” Dlanor can tell that there’s something other than just “pleasure” behind her actions, though. Erika denies it and turns away, then starts talking to... herself, probably.

“I love you.” SHIP SHIP SHIP (nah i don’t actually ship it sorry)

Erika proceeds to go through random bits from her backstory, from the niceties her then-boyfriend told her to some of the strange things that started popping up - a new wallet, new cologne, suddenly having a part-time job, and so on.

“I found tons of evidence that I loved you. I found tons of evidence that you loved me. But I couldn’t find any evidence that you haven’t been cheating on me.”

“If you really find it that hard to trust me, we’re through. Stay away, just go home, bitch, I don’t love you anymore. Don’t cry dammit, it’s disgusting. Just die. Stop shouting, dammit, you’re annoying the neighbourhood. Just get the hell away from me and never come back.”

“...Without love, it cannot be seen? ...Hah. That’s backwards. Because of love, you end up seeing things that don’t even exist. It’s nothing more than an illusion, one that no one except you can see, and one that even you can never touch. Without love, humans would never need to sift through truth and lies.”

I’m pretty sure I already said it, but... Man, even if I’m guilty of not looking at Erika with enough ‘love’, her backstory here falls completely flat for me. For one thing, it’s coming after she had so much fun tormenting Natsuhi in Ep5 and destroying Maria’s illusion in the lounge earlier - it ends up feeling to me like a pithy attempt to make her sympathetic, and... it just doesn’t work. I can’t quite put my finger on why it doesn’t work for Erika, when we’ve got other terrible characters like Rosa and Kinzo (and even Yasu, to an extent) running around, but... it just doesn’t.

Part of that, and the second thing, is that Erika’s backstory just doesn’t make sense to me. While we’re never given an exact number, the narrative does say that she’s younger than Jessica and Battler, putting her around 16 or 17 at the oldest (I’m not sure where I got 14 from, don’t ask). This backstory? Suggests a woman who’s in her 20′s or late teens at the youngest to me, not someone who’s in middle school. I mean, yeah, sure, willing suspension of disbelief, plus as Bern’s piece who knows what the hell kind of person Erika was to begin with, but... it just doesn’t work for me.

...Though I suppose it’s kinda funny that one of the themes I like about Umineko so much - how two different, contradictory options are both “true” - is what trips me up with Erika, huh?

At any rate. “Right now, I am happy... Though it may be temporary, I have become the Witch of Truth. ...As I am now... I no longer need to worry about being tormented by non-red words.”

Erika ask Dlanor how she’d respond to her accusations, and the two of them re-enact the “game” Erika had against her boyfriend. It’s horrifically one-sided, in Erika’s favour.

Before leaving, Dlanor says, “A splendid game, Lady Erika. Even before you became Lady Bernkastel’s piece, you truly were a splendid wielder of the blue TRUTH... However, Lady Erika. Humans are only allowed to use the blue TRUTH. The only thing that can counter blue truth is red TRUTH. Humans are not allowed to use the red TRUTH... In that case, how should your opponent have shown his TRUTH?”

Erika just sorta replies with “who knows.” I’ll admit to feeling a pang of sympathy for her here...

“...You certainly were the victor in that GAME. However, allow me to say this as a protector of the TRUTH. [...] ...This game is your VICTORY. However... you still have not denied the six points of blue truth evidence that I showed to claim that I still loved YOU. ...Even you are HUMAN. You cannot use red truth to deny those POINTS.”

Erika smugly replies that she “used the detective’s authority” to have her argument elevated to red truth. “I am human, yet superior to humans. A detective and a witch. I am the Witch of Truth, Furudo Erika. Any other questions? Parting remarks?”

Dlanor hesitantly says no and leaves, leaving Erika laughing bitterly on her own. Glancing at the clock, she notices that it’s almost midnight.

“The curtain has finally opened on the second day, October 5th. ...I wonder if the murder this time is happening somewhere about now. I hope our victims leave us some interesting dying messages this time.” yikes™

Elsewhere, George is confronting Eva about his engagement with Shannon. it’s finally murder time

#kyuutext #umineko #umineko no naku koro ni chiru #dawn of the golden witch

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tvseriesfinale · 5 years

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Paramount Network just announced the debut of their new spinoff TV show, Ink Master: Grudge Match. Are you a fan of Ink Master? Will you watch the spinoff series? https://buff.ly/2HlzJZo https://ift.tt/2ZjpOcU

#TV Series Finale #TV Shows

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vzygounasindependent2019 · 5 years

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In ink master, tattoo artists need to prove their creativity using constantly different mediums

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daninator-and-rickyblitz · 7 years

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SING | Part 1

Genre: Romance

Words: 3249

Warnings: Lots of theater/vocal performance jargon

Summary: Dan is the lead in his school’s show choir, the Hearts of Berkshire, where he writes all the music and practically runs the entire group. Their biggest competition is the Rawtenstall Grammar Counterpoints, led and instructed by a very hot Mister Phil Lester. After the Counterpoints crush the Hearts at the national competition, Dan harbors a grudge to get back at them next season. Then Dan’s forced to leave Berkshire and transfer to Rawtenstall, and all bets are off when Mr. Lester asks Dan to sing for him.

Part 1: Harmony and Counterpoint

If you ask anyone, they’ll tell you there have never been more teenagers in the West End than the night of the National Show Choir Competition. Every show choir and glee club in the United Kingdom traveled to London for a chance to compete for the trophy, and while everyone gets a consolation prize and a great weekend in the city, it’s not a weekend to take for granted. At least, not for the competitors.

Approximately fifteen minutes before their scheduled performance time, the Hearts of Berkshire captain and lead Dan Howell walked through the back halls of the theater to deliver his set list to a judge runner. This deadline was the same for every competition, just in case disaster ever struck, but this ritual was getting very old very quickly. You’d think it would already be old after three years of it, but Dan was eternally stubborn. Besides, it was better than having the judges guess what you’re singing. Dan scoffed at the thought. This probably benefited the choirs who had no shot at the title, which of course didn’t include his.

The Hearts were an institution, an all-male a capella group with six national titles to their name, and Dan’s been there to lead them to two of them. He was there for a third as well, but that was before he took over. He’s only continued the tradition, and all the boys in the group respected him for it. That, and his killer pipes and arranging skills. They always win first place in the choir competition, which is the most important, but in past years other titles like Best Arrangement and Best Soloist have alluded them.

With this year’s setlist, Dan hoped to change that.

The runners’ room was a small dressing room filled with production assistants for the judges, who were out in the audience at that moment listening to a bottom twelve choir from Kent. Dan wasn’t concerned about them. There was really only one to be worried about…

One of the runners approached Dan right away when he entered the room. “The Hearts?” she guessed.

Dan grinned. “That would be us.” He handed her his stationary, which had their three songs printed on it in red ink.

She added it to her clipboard and gave Dan a smile of her own. “I’m rooting for you guys. You’re always so good.”

“I know,” Dan replied. He gave her a nod and turned to be on his way back to the green room to continue rehearsing, but he almost smacked right into another body in the doorway. That body was much taller than Dan was, and smelled amazing. Like expensive cologne.

“Whoops, my bad,” it was a man, and he gave Dan an easy smile. His eyes sunk down and seemed to zero in on the heart pinned to Dan’s lapel, marking him quite obviously from Berkshire. “You’re a Heart,” he pointed out, looking back up.

After being struck for a second at how blue this man’s eyes were, Dan nodded. “I’m the Heart,” he replied. Being the one who did most of the work, he reserved the right to say that.

“Ah,” the blue-eyed man’s smile grew a little wicked, “Daniel. You’re very talented.”

“Dan,” he corrected straight away, “And I know. That’s why I’m in the position that I am.”

“Right. I’m Phil Lester,” he said and held his hand out. Dan shook it, and at the same time, he wondered where he had heard that name before. Once they let go, Phil gestured ahead of him. “I should go turn in the setlist. Pretty important.”

Once again Dan nodded. “Right, of course. See you,” he said and stepped aside to let Phil inside the room. He was only a few steps into the corridor when he heard the voices filter from inside the runners’ room. It was the same woman who took Dan’s setlist.

“Mr. Lester! I’ll take that.”

“Thank you, Karen. I have high hopes for this season. We’ve gone in a bit of a different direction.”

A pause. “I see. I don’t recognize any of your song titles.”

“That’s because I wrote them.”

Dan froze. He knew he recognized that name from somewhere…

“Really? Maybe it’ll be gold this year for the Counterpoints.”

“Let’s hope so. Good seeing you, Karen.”

Of course. The steepest competition of the night, the only other a cappella group in the competition, the current holders of the Best Arrangement title; the Rawtenstall Grammar Counterpoints. They were co-ed where the Hearts were only boys, and they had an actual advisor with a music degree to lead them. Dan heard through the grapevine that was show choir based Tumblr blogs that the Counterpoints coach was a babe and a half. And damn were they right.

The Counterpoints have been second place to the Hearts for years.

As Dan was still frozen in the corridor, Phil Lester walked right past him out of the runners’ room. “Break a leg out there.” The smirk was practically audible.

In a huff, he stomped back to the Hearts’ green room, because damn if the Counterpoints were going to beat them with originals. No. Not his group.

As soon as he entered, the others could basically feel that something was off. Some of the boys near the door looked concerned. They all matched; Berkshire Academy of the Sacred Heart had uniforms, like most schools, and the group always performed in them as a sign of pride and consistency.

“What happened?” asked another of the senior members, Thad.

Dan swallowed. “I met the Counterpoints’ coach.”

The energy in the room changed from apprehensive to interested, and a couple rose to their feet to get closer, hungry for gossip.

“Well?”

“What was he like?”

Dan held up his hands for quiet. “What they say is true, he is very, very attractive,” he told them, “But all that is beside the point. Their setlist is comprised of only originals. The coach wrote them, his name is Phil Lester, and he sounded sure that they were going to win.”

“They’ll have to beat us first,” stated Steve, a younger member whose uniform was a bit too big for him.

Still, Dan nodded in reply. “Exactly. And we are champions, aren’t we?” There were nods and words of agreement. “We know a capella. We’re the tradition of a capella. We’re classically trained, we’re all males, and we’re student run. We deserve to win, and we’re going to run those northerners into the bloody ground!”

“Yeah!” The group fist-pumped into the air together.

Dan grinned. “Our performance will be in less than ten minutes. Let’s do some practicing, and we’ll be sure to show them who really owns that stage,” he stated. With Dan at the head, the Hearts of Berkshire gathered around the piano, and they rehearsed their setlist for one last time.

Later, the lights were dim, and the Hearts were waiting in the wings to be announced. Dan bounced on his toes but held in all other impulses to fidget. His uniform needed to look immaculate for the performance or the looking good factor would not be on their side. Also, he was not happy with their performance time. They were the current title holders, they should be performing last, but apparently, the times were assigned randomly and there would be three groups going after them. One of them was the Counterpoints. He hoped that this wouldn’t hurt their chances of retaining their place.

Dan was soon handed a microphone, as the soloist, and told it was time to go on. Right beforehand, he turned to the rest of the group. “This is it, guys. If any of you mess up, we lose. We need to be perfect to win and beat those goddamn Counterpoints. So let’s go,” he implored them seriously. They all nodded in reply, and then Dan led them onto the stage.

“And now welcome to the stage, the reigning champions of the Masters of Show Choir national competition, the Hearts of Berkshire!”

When the lights came up, Dan raised his head and the microphone to his mouth, and four counts later their opener started. It wasn’t his favorite song of their setlist, but it was the most difficult, just for the sake of getting the crowd’s (and the judges’) attention. That and the second song went off without a hitch and with much applause, which gave Dan even more confidence in their winning and their choice to do a ballad as their finale instead of in the middle. It was a bit of a change from traditional performances, but if they didn’t change with the times then they weren’t going to get anywhere.

The ballad put Dan in the light on the apron, while the Hearts formed two small arcs behind him. He hoped to knock this one out of the park with just his voice alone, and at the same get that Best Soloist award.

“Oh, Shenandoah, I long to see you, Look away, you rollin' river,

Oh, Shenandoah, I long to see you,”

When the rest of the group came in, all the lights brightened to highlight the lines. This number was different than the rest of their set, as this was the only number where Dan soloed the entire time and there was no dancing. It was meant to be slow with a focus on the vocals instead of the entire spectacle. In Dan’s opinion, this was the way to draw a crowd’s focus. That, and a spiced-up American folk song.

“Look away, we're bound away Across the wide Missouri.”

Dan could see the Counterpoints in the left wing out of the corner of his eye. They were huddled together between two of the legs, watching intently, and Phil Lester was standing in the front with his arms crossed. They must be going next. Since Dan was focused on his song, he didn’t have time to think about it, but he could swear the coach was smiling. Like he was impressed or even encouraging his competition.

Pathetic. Dan would show them.

“Now the Missouri is a mighty river Look away, you rollin' river Indians camp along her border Look away, we're bound away Across the wide Missouri.”

When their performance was over, the applause signified that there was no way they wouldn’t win. Dan first bowed on his own, then led the Hearts as a group to the cheering. The Counterpoints haven’t even gone on yet, but still he was confident. The audience loved them, he was sure the judges did as well.

On their way off the stage, their competition was still standing in wait. Dan met the eyes of Phil Lester for just a moment, and the latter spoke up. “Great performance,” he said.

“Thanks, I know,” Dan replied shortly, then followed the Hearts on their way off the stage without saying anything else. Fraternizing with the enemy was not something that was in their best interest, especially when their coach was so cute and all their members were telling them how good they were.

It felt like they were hardly off the stage when the Counterpoints jogged on to take their places. The Hearts spun around, still backstage, and looked to where their competition was setting up on a dark stage. They looked to Dan, wondering if they should continue to the green room like usual or some other instruction. Dan nodded towards the door to the house, and they left the right wing and filed in to take seats in the audience towards the back.

“Please welcome to the stage the current runner-ups and holders of the Best Arrangement award, the Rawtenstall Grammar School Counterpoints!”

There was a smattering of applause and some cheering. Thad, who was sitting beside Dan, started to clap but Dan reached over and grabbed his wrist to quickly end it. No one was going to pretend they were watching this for entertainment; it was simply for judgmental purposes. And spite.

Before the lights came up, the clapping started. Not applause, it was a rhythm. Cla-clap-clap. Then when it did brighten, the entire group was clapping the very quick and snappy rhythm, and a boy was walking towards the front of the stage. He was smaller.

“Woke up whistling like the wind blows Looking out my window just to see the shine.”

And then, for a quick moment, all the males of the group sang a lick. Dan’s eyes went wide. It was only about three counts, but there were enough bass notes in there to make the Whiffenpoofs cry all the way from America.

“Baby, you might call it crazy, how I'm acting lately Skipping through the sky,”

The lick came again, and the lot of the group joined in the backup of the little soloist. He looked smaller than the others around him, and there were a lot of others. All grouped together it didn’t look like the Counterpoints had a whole lot more singers compared to the Hearts, but now it was obvious that they did. They spread out throughout the entire stage, and each one stood out in lovely crimson red get-up that was each just slightly different. They were definitely not dressed in school uniforms.

“I see so clearly why I'm always feeling free So I sleep when my dreams looking like reality Don't it feel like Na na na na na na na na na, na na na na na”

And then the na-nas continued, and were joined with the clapping and choreography that would crush choirs that aren’t a capella. Besides their countertenor soloist, there were two others at the front of the group who seemed to be leading the rest. Dan studied them, and couldn’t help but compare himself to Counterpoint leads. The smallest, the countertenor, had all the high notes of a girl with the masculine appeal of a baby face. To his right was a tall blonde; his pecs could barely be contained by his button up which suggested he went to the gym on a regular basis. And on the left was a girl with flowing brunette locks and dark skin, and just an outstanding look.

Dan scowled. These were all advantages to put the Counterpoints above the Hearts in presentation.

The bridge of the song made several of the Hearts drop their jaws. The bass notes returned, and this time they were in three-part harmony, which was amazing. Dan couldn’t believe they had enough talented basses to harmonize the part… the Hearts couldn’t do that. Not really. The arrangement of this song was genius. Soon after that thought, Dan remembered that Phil Lester had written the songs for the entire set. He hoped the judges took into account that Dan was a student, and he took care of all the arrangements, and there was no way he was as talented as a teacher. Before he watched the Counterpoints, he could only hope as much.

Dan didn’t really pay attention past the opening number. That taste was all he needed to make his judgements. They were much better than they were last year, and no doubt that was because they lost. And while their sheer vocal and dance talents lessened his confidence just a bit, Dan was sure that the performance was just a bit too much. The flashy clothes, the pop song, and the choreography combined was a lot for a show choir and perhaps it didn’t fit into their category.

Besides, there was no way that little countertenor could out-sing Dan.

Once all the groups had performed, everyone was sitting in their designated seats in the audience for the awards. Thankfully the Counterpoints were on the other side of the house. Dan could still see them. It was a little nauseating that they were all holding hands as they waited, even with their coach.

“We might not win,” Thad leaned over and whispered.

“We will. Our fiercest competition paraded around that stage like it was an EDM concert, I doubt they’ll take out a group like us,” Dan scowled at the stage as the lights came on over a table awards and the panel of judges, “Like I said. Integrity trumps showboating.”

The awards started, and fifth place went first. There was a list posted on the website every year with official scores and places, but the top five got to be honored in front of everyone. And between fourth place and third place the smaller titles were given.

Here, the Hearts clapped politely for each award. Fifth place went to a school from Somerset, fourth to Kent. Then, everyone started to pay attention for the smaller awards. Dan sat up a little straighter.

“This year’s Best Arrangement award, judged on originality, musicality, and demonstration of skill goes to…,” the judge paused as he tore open the envelope, “No surprise, the Rawtenstall Grammar Counterpoints! Arrangement by Phil Lester.”

Dan’s expression darkened, but he still clapped slowly while Phil jogged onto the stage to accept the plaque and shake hands with the judges. His group was clapping and cheering obnoxiously in the background. He waved to them with a giant smile on his face before walking off of the stage and back to his seat while the judges moved on.

“And this year’s Best Soloist award, based on technique and overall performance goes to…” the pause was agonizing while the host picked up the plaque to read the name, “Dan Howell from the Hearts of Berkshire!”

The Hearts burst into loud applause, and Dan’s stomach exploded into butterflies within him. Not of nervousness, more of surprise, but then he quickly buried that. As he walked from his seat to the stage, he wore a grin of pride. He deserves this award, he was obviously the best. Take that, tiny countertenor of the Counterpoints.

He climbed the stairs and took the award from the host, then shook each of the judges’ hands. He got a congratulations from each one, and then he went back and sat down. He was very happy with the award, but he wanted to get on with it. There were still three places to announce.

Third went to Cambridge. The Hearts all clapped very politely, as usual, but now the anxiety was fresh in their chests as they waited for the next pace. They had yet to be mentioned, but neither had the Counterpoints. Dan thought the tension air could have been cut by a knife. And when second place was announced, he could have cut anything with a knife.

“Second place and the runner up for the championship goes to… The Hearts of Berkshire!”

No.

The Counterpoints all but erupted across the house but were quickly hushed. Dan hissed at his group to try and look happy, and together they walked to the stage to accept their award. Dan once again took it from the host, shook all the judges’ hands, and led the Hearts to stand next to Cambridge on the stage. His heart sunk even more when they announced the champion.

Amidst the applause and the cheers, Rawtenstall accepted their award and looked thoroughly happy and victorious. Phil Lester held up the trophy for the whole team to see, which inspired an entirely new round of cheering and carrying on. Cambridge clapped politely, and some of them even looked genuinely happy for their place. Dan, however, was seething. Those northerners were in for a storm come next season.

Songs featured in this part:

Shenendoah– arrangement by Peter Hollens Na Na Na– Pentatonix

#phan #phanfiction #phan au #phanfic

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unreadpoppy · 3 years

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Jimmy and Kyle really did a whole ass character arc in one episode, from screaming match and pushing the dude to the couch to crying and hugging

#ink master #season 11: grudge match

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myepisodecalendar · 6 years

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Ink Master Season 11 - Episode 16: Grudge Match Finale AirDate: December 18th, 2018, 10:00 PM

#Ink Master #Paramount Network #Grudge Match Finale #Season 11 #Reality #tv #television #show #episode #calendar

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shiftingpath · 8 years

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Towersong Book 3: The Wheel of Fate is Turning Chapter 2: Diplomacy Episode 2: Peprine of Plenilune (Part 1)

Today was the arranged day; the Solars waited outside the woods of Cherry Blossom to receive Bhuzan of the Wyld Hunt. Lark had charmed Blood-Curdling Skree into letting her captive go, and they waited to take him in. He was delivered bound, his arms strung between two ropes the Kreeha guards would not let slack. He was a Dragon-Blood and extremely dangerous, though he looked very much worse the wear for his months of captivity. The goat they brought also, possibly even more dangerous and stubborn than its rider. They made a pile of his clothes and great green bow and jade shirt, and then faded into the forest with the Solars’ thanks.

They introduced themselves to Bhuzan, who looked extremely wary and suspicious of them, but allowed Manus to come forward and cut the woven rope collar from his neck and the ties from his wrists. They wanted to discuss much with him, but he clearly needed some time, so Manus led him to a free house in Cherry Blossom where he could get clean, eat, and rest. His goat was also provided for, though Lark worried it was holding a grudge for Lark not showing up to free it before.

After Bhuzan had shaved, gotten clean and fed, and slept, Manus led him before the group again, and Elmira offered him the same deal she had given the others of the Wyld Hunt: go. She would keep his artifacts, but give him his life and all he might need on the road away from Towersong, food and drink and a carriage, if he wanted one. But Bhuzan refused it all, and told them he only wanted to be away. He was a man of Medo before he was a Dragon-Blood of the Isle, and he could move as easily in the forest as on the road, and find food as easily as in a palace. He would take their offer and leave now.

Manus was a little disappointed; he had hoped that freeing Bhuzan would open some gate to beginning peace with the Isle, but he felt good enough that they had taken one of the Princes of the Earth out of suffering and allowed him to return to his people. He warned Bhuzan of the bandit problems on the road and the Orphans of Calin dealing with it, and Bhuzan mounted his goat and rode swiftly away from Cherry Blossom. They collected his artifacts to add to the clock treasury, and Manus hoped that their good deed to Bhuzan would still prove a blessing in the future.

= = =

Lark woke early in the morning, before the rest of his family, feeling he’d heard something. He tiptoed down the stairs, noting a splash of something against the wall. Maple syrup? It was everywhere, and so was everything else. There was a broken chair halfway up the landing, papers and paint and splinters all over. In the middle of the carnage was the sturdy table, and two upright undamaged chairs, on which sat his mother Miina and Blood-Curdling Skree, eating pancakes. Lark had to restrain a yelp of surprise, but his mother tried to act as if everything was normal. It was just that she had caught Skree breaking into their house in the middle of the night, and they had fought savagely and utterly silent, and once they established that Skree wasn’t there to hurt anyone, they got talking and now everything was just fine. Lark had some trouble swallowing that, but his mother assured him that she was happy to get the chance to speak to the ruler of her people, and Skree assured him that she was proud to have met the famous Minnawanagwad, who was a great fighter among her people even before she left to adventure.

Lark gingerly sat down, though Skree refused to share her stack of pancakes, and his mother not-so-subtly urged him to spend the day with Skree and show her around, since it would be such an honour to their family to be on good terms with the Queen of the Kreeha. It was plain and extremely awkward to Lark that his mom was trying to set him up with Skree. All the same, he agreed to show her around, and the two of them left to wander Towersong just as Lark’s father Roland came downstairs, nervously brandishing a broom as defense. Miina swept out, with business to attend to, ruthlessly asking him to clean up the enormous mess- after all, she’d made breakfast.

= = =

Manus was training beside his father, practicing the Violence of the Perfect Guest, a technique of Volan’s Ivory Icon style that would allow him to transition quickly from conversation to assassination with no warning to his victim. Manus had been privately working to synchronize this with his own magics, and wanted to show them off to his dad. Quietly, as he demonstrated what he had practiced, he wove his movements into something cautious, repetitive, and slow, and sowed the seed in Volan’s mind that Manus was not ready. He had pushed him too far too fast, and the way he moved was proof enough that he had not yet mastered this new ability. Lost in his thoughts, Volan did not even see the strike, looking up only to see Manus with his blade expertly planted in the dummy’s throat. He quickly retacted it, caught the dummy as it fell, and slipped back to his neutral position, waiting for his father’s approval.

Instead, he saw the look of fear- a master of the style, watching for a single specific thing, who had been tricked by his Anathema son and his mysterious, terrible abilities. He saw his father swallow panic, offer a brief nod of approval for Manus’ progress, then insist he really had to get back to work. Volan left quickly, laced with paranoid, nervous energy, and Manus felt a flare of anger at himself for pushing his father to accept him as an Anathema so quickly. He was interrupted by his new butler Ural bringing tea for him and his now-absent teacher, and took it alone, frustratedly flicking over the empty teacup beside his own. (And then, annoyed at the lack of order, righted it again immediately.)

= = =

Elmira brought Erilaz deep inside the clock. She had a plan for her, and would put the first steps into motion today. They travelled through the dangerous terrain to the box room they had found Keen-Edge prisoner in, that the automaton Proof had brought the wounded Clockmaker to. The walls were still lined with the gears that had made Basira’s deadly trap, but they had no effect now that the great saws and blades at the end had been severed. Elmira explained little, but that she was looking for a pattern, and she would make something from it. She poured ink onto one little gear at the beginning, and they watched as the ink began to travel from the first gear to the one it interlocked with, slowly winding in slick black patterns through the room, a natural and unpredictable progression like a vine bursting into bloom. Elmira carefully laid paper along it, picking up the pattern the clock laid down for her.

As they left, she asked Erilaz how her studies were going. Though Elmira’s workings were still a mystery to her, they inspired Erilaz, and she signed that she was figuring the clock out herself, on her own time. She gestured beyond them, an imperious command, and after a moment, a chain flew to her hand. Elmira could recall Basira, the previous Chosen of the Clock, doing the exact same thing, and watched as Erilaz quickly taught herself how to control its movements as she clung to it, controlling the movements of the gears it fed through to rapidly raise and lower herself through the clock’s treacherous workings.

= = =

Lark and Skree wandered the streets of Towersong, Lark trying awkwardly to be a good host, but distracted by fears of what Skree might do. Even if she didn’t hurt anyone, having her here meant she might run into his girlfriend Emerald, and Lark hadn’t yet figured out what to tell her about Skree. She got bored quickly and picked up on Lark’s nervousness, confronting him over it. She promised him she only wanted to spend time with him, and changed the subject quickly by challenging him to a race to the hills, taking off immediately.

Lark swerved through the streets, matching Skree. His nervousness evaporated in the face of a simple, easy choice. As they got outside the city, Skree’s wings and talons sprouted, and she took off to the air, but Lark made a great leap, pulling her down to the ground with him. Skree let herself fall straight to the ground, and pulled Lark down with her, both laughing breathlessly.

= = =

Manus was applying himself to paperwork in his study, still annoyed his eagerness had overshot his caution with his father, when Ural announced that Ledaal Savoy was waiting in the sitting room. Manus was delighted, and put his work aside immediately for the distraction Savoy would provide. Just as he saw him again, though, he remembered he had been angry with Savoy- he had left his father to die in the lake! And now he clearly had timed the schedule to come at a time Volan would be out. Manus immediately put up a defensive front, but Savoy smiled widely at him and spoke charmingly, and before he realized it, Manus had forgotten entirely that he had been angry at all. It took little effort for Savoy to charm him into bed, next.

They lay in bed talking a long time afterwards, for unsurprisingly, Savoy had come in need of a favour. He wanted Elmira’s help with something, and he needed Manus to tell him how to get it. He explained the trouble: the Saltspire Leagues was named for their five great manses, built above the saltwater River of Tears to cleanse it for drinkable water and to harvest the salt from it. Of these, Plenilune’s manse was the only one running at close to intended speed, and the rest were either broken entirely or significantly impaired. But Plenilune’s was slowing down, and Savoy told how his sources feared that a disaster would occur when it finally failed, a backlash through the dragon lines that would erupt like an earthquake through the north. What he asked was for Elmira to come work at repairing it, to fix the manse as best she could, for she was the north’s foremost expert on the unique architecture of manses, and none of the Realm’s experts had come.

The problem was that he wished Plenilune to remain in Realm hands. Manus saw no problem with this, of course, but instantly saw how difficult it would be to bring an Anathema Queen into the ranks of Realm expatriates that lived in Plenilune. And getting Elmira to agree to quietly, secretly help a nation in the hands of her enemies… this was the difficult part. Manus urged Savoy to bring it to his Queen as a petition, for though she didn’t like Savoy and the request was not something she would like, she would probably respond best to a humble request for her aid.

#exalted #towersong #session recap #towersong book 3

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