#People apparently don’t like when I talk about any other interest of mine especially Trolls

[gods-no-longer-tread-here]

This is a somft thing I wrote because my platonic scoundrel @roseforthethorns was feeling sad. Ily bby

(3k+ words, Family Gossip, Geralt being good with kids, something akin to a binding..... just fluffypuffy stuff)

~

“You are an absolute darling, Geralt!”

“Hmph,” he grunted, and tucked the honeysuckles into the circlet before placing it carefully on Jaskier’s head. “You need to be pretty for the party,” the Witcher said firmly.

Jaskier beamed at him, eyes shining with affection. “That I do, my dear,” he said, adjusting the flower circlet to be at a jauntier angle. “Oh, do you like the ring, by the way?”

Geralt nodded, raising his hand. It was a lovely ring, but rather cheap. Bronze band, yellow agate cabochon, and tiny pearls. It was well-used, though. Jaskier grabbed his hand, squeezed gently, then skipped to the door. “Come on, then!”

~

Geralt was expecting the stares. He was not expecting so many nobles to glide up to him, give a nervous greeting, and then inquire about his relationship with Count Julian. Geralt was too baffled to answer with anything other than, “He’s my bard.”

One sharp-eyed old lady with an ivory cane showed up at Geralt’s elbow, and poked his middle with her cane. “Hmm. Too skinny,” she declared, while Geralt fought the urge to splutter. “How do you expect to take care of little Julie when you can’t keep yourself fed?”

“We’ve been getting along just fine for fifteen years,” Geralt retorted.

The old lady sniffed in disapproval. “Of course you would say that, you’re a man. Both of you need plumping up.” She smacked his middle with her cane and added, “Be careful with that ring, boy. It’s precious.”

Geralt grunted, hands automatically coming together so he could touch the ring again. The old lady nodded and walked away.

Jaskier had said this would just be a short jaunt to say hello to his cousin and leave--but said cousin was a queen, and asked him to stay for the whole evening. Of course, Jaskier agreed. And now Geralt was leaning on a wall sipping honey wine and feeling superfluous. There was nothing to do here. He should be hunting, gathering coin for their journey, not letting nobles stare at him.

A man in a military uniform approached him, and Geralt tensed, narrowing his eyes. He didn’t think he was going to be taken away; the soldier was alone, and Geralt came with Jaskier.

The soldier stopped, bowed, and said, “Greetings, Witcher. I’m Captain Yetzii, of the Palace Guard.”

“Geralt,” Geralt said.

The captain nodded, his heavy mustache and eyebrows hiding most of his expression, but the wariness and aggression in his scent and posture waning. “I suspected as much,” he said. “Not many people hover in corners watching Count de Lettenhove with such a worried expression.” The captain’s mustache twitched and the corners of his eyes crinkled, and Geralt was hit by the realization that, though this man was human and had red-brown hair and was as lean as a youth, he bore a striking resemblance to Vesemir. Even his scent had a familiar tang.

Geralt frowned and answered the captain, “He gets into trouble more frequently than we Witchers. If I don’t watch him he’ll do something stupid and end up wearing a casket of wine as trousers.”

“He’s already done that,” the captain said. “On his twentieth birthday, he and some of the troops got so drunk that they started a contest of what they could wear that was within uniform regulations. I don’t know how, but they all ended up agreeing that a wine casket and some sheafs of straw was within the rules.”

Something stirred in Geralt’s memory, and then jumped to the forefront: a few years ago, when he and Jaskier met again in spring, and got so drunk that--Geralt’s mouth twitched, but his voice was dry as he told the captain, “I know exactly how. I once witnessed him convince a king that he had created a dashing outfit out of moonlight and fresh air, then encouraged the king to wear it while giving a speech to the commoners. The fool actually believed him and stepped onto the platform before the crowd naked.”

The captain snorted, his posture relaxing further. “We heard of that, but no one knew it was M’lord Julian. Have you ever caught him dueling? He’s never been good at it, but by the gods, he tries. Especially when he was younger; whenever he visited, the Guard had to follow him when he went on a quest to seduce every barmaid in the city, because it was inevitable that he would end up trying to duel some poor citizen.”

Geralt’s mouth twitched again, visibly this time. “I can believe it.”

Somehow, swapping stories about Jaskier’s ineptitude with fighting rolled right into passive fighter roles; Geralt admitted that he’d rather be bitten by a manticore than pose as a bodyguard, and Captain Yetzii commiserated, saying that he had much preferred being in his village’s guard and patrolling the county to being a stationary captain. This led into how to prepare for long journeys far from humanity, and then a mild argument about horses. Geralt was offended by Yetzii’s insistence that horses should be bred for their lines, instead of for their traits; Yetzii was skeptical of the fact that the size of a horse’s heart was the defining factor of its speed, arguing that lungs and bone-structure were more important.

A noble boy, perhaps sixteen, drifted over and began asking questions that seemed to boil down to, “My tutor said that’s wrong.” Both Geralt and Yetzii immediately dropped the argument to speak to the boy seriously about how to choose, care for, and ride a good horse. A young lady of about thirteen took up a position close to the three of them, straining her ears to hear them while pretending not to.

It wasn’t long before Geralt and Yetzii had accumulated most of the attendants below the age of twenty, and were answering their questions about fighting, hunting, and survival. Yetzii was polite and deferential; Geralt spoke bluntly. So many curious faces, so many wide eyes--it felt like he was talking to his Witcher brothers.

Somehow, that didn’t hurt.

“I wish I could hunt trolls,” sighed a boy with lanky limbs.

Geralt frowned and said, “You’ve got the bones for it. Heavy laundry every other day, laps, and wrestling will get you started.”

The group went silent, gaping at him. Geralt stared back, then looked up to find Jaskier. He really had forgotten these children were nobles. He needed to get out of there.

“Do you think I could hunt trolls?” a young woman asked, her eyes bright with hope.

“You’re tall enough for it,” Geralt replied cautiously. “You’re almost done growing, but I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to.”

The young woman beamed at him, and Geralt felt very uncomfortable.

“Mr. Pankratz, sir,” piped up a pudgy child with a cloud of golden curls for hair, “I don’t think I’ll ever be tall. Could I still fight monsters?”

Geralt nodded. “Yes. Other warriors in training may tell you not to, but they don’t know your limits,” he said. It was so peculiar. He felt like… like he was saying Vesemir’s words in his own voice. He looked at all of the children, and added, “Any of you can be warriors. And warriors don’t always hunt monsters in dark places.” Something Vesemir had told him when he was small popped into his head, and he said it aloud, not quite seeing the children: “Sometimes Witchers kill. Sometimes Witchers talk. It doesn’t matter if you do one or the other more: you’re still a Witcher.”

“What does that mean?” asked the lanky boy.

“It means…” Geralt frowned, trying to put his words into order. “It means, no matter what your fighting looks like--whether you kill monsters or negotiate with kings--you’re still a warrior. We fight with what we have. A sword, a pen, medicine, knowledge; none of these are more important than the others. It’s what you use them for that matters.”

There was a moment of silence in the little group. All eyes were fixed on him, including Yetzii. He tried to think of how to escape, but before he could, Jaskier appeared, beaming and bubbling. Geralt had never felt such relief as he turned to Jaskier, who told those assembled, “Hello, everyone! Very sorry to interrupt, but the queen wishes to meet Geralt. We’ll be staying a few days, you’ll have plenty of time to talk to him.” Jaskier winked at Geralt with an evil smile; Geralt rolled his eyes, but followed his bard willingly.

“Their parents are annoyed,” Jaskier murmured teasingly as they approached the royal dais. “You’re far too interesting for them.”

Geralt snorted. “If they actually taught their little ones useful skills instead of drilling them on how to blow their noses, they wouldn’t be interested,” he muttered, and smiled just a little when Jaskier laughed. He liked Jaskier’s laugh. When did it go from painful to pleasant?

The queen, Jaskier’s cousin, was just as beautiful as him, but not nearly as theatrical. Her eyes were blue, but more washed-out. One of her ladies-in-waiting had lined her eyes with coal, but it was not nearly as neat and delicate as Jaskier’s. Her hair was a sandy blond, well-maintained and shining like gold, but Jaskier’s hair was shinier.

He bowed without giving anything away on his face.

“Queen Chrysanthemum, may I introduce Witcher Geralt,” Jaskier intoned gravely. Geralt shot him an annoyed look. Jaskier never made it easy to greet royalty. “He’s my friend.”

Geralt bowed again and muttered, “An honor to meet you, your Majesty.”

Queen Chrysanthemum smiled prettily. “The honor is mine, Witcher Geralt,” she replied. Then her eyes twinkled and her smile turned crafty. “We were all wondering what kind of man Julian would settle on,” she teased.

Geralt tensed, but it was embarrassment, not anger. He was used to this.

Apparently, Jaskier was not.

He turned red as a tomato, and spluttered a bit before objecting weakly, “I haven’t settled on anyone! When I do, you’ll know, because she will be the most beautiful woman the world has ever seen!” He avoided Geralt’s eyes firmly, even though all the Witcher did was raise an eyebrow and repress a teasing insult. How odd.

The queen snickered. “Yes, yes, I understand, Julian.” She turned to the matronly noblewoman sitting beside her and flicked her fingers subtly; the woman rose, curtseyed, and walked away, joining a circle of other noblewomen. Geralt’s stomach dropped as Queen Chrysanthemum smiled at him again and said, “Sit with me a moment, Witcher.”

Geralt did so, stiffly. For some reason, Jaskier seemed reluctant to leave, but also reluctant to sit. He shifted his weight, fiddled with his cuffs, bit his lip, and then nodded sharply, before turning and marching to one of the refreshment tables. Geralt shook his head. Jaskier was always very odd around his family.

“You don’t seem surprised by him,” the queen remarked, beckoning with her fan for a servant to bring them drinks.

“I’ve known him nearly fifteen years,” Geralt replied. “If he wanted to surprise me, he’d stop singing.”

That startled a laugh out of her, as she accepted a glass of wine from the servant. Geralt followed suit, but did not drink from it. He’d already had too much ale; his tongue was loose and his mind was too relaxed.

“Tell me, how did you meet?” she inquired. “I know Julian, his penchant for dramatics is devastating. Did you really defeat Filivandrel?”

“With words, yes,” Geralt answered, feeling that pinch of irritation again. That fucking song. He hated it. “There was no dramatic battle. Still, humans have no need to fear him anymore.”

Queen Chrysanthemum nodded sagely. “I thought as much. Julian has never once had the courage to face a fight willingly.” She must have seen Geralt’s confusion, because she smiled and explained, “He hated hunting rabbits, for the gods’ sakes. Anything scarier than a bee, he ran away from. We used to laugh about it.”

Geralt remembered the times when Jaskier had thrown himself into a fight to help him, had acted as bait or a distraction even in near-certain death situations, had stared down a griffin and run it through with Geralt’s own sword. Jaskier had never run away. Jaskier wasn’t courageous, but he was braver than any other human--if foolishness counted as bravery. Geralt ran his thumb over the hem of his “fashionable” surcoat; the money used to purchase the fabric, tailoring, and embroidery had come from Jaskier talking down an enraged nagani, negotiating with good will and good humour until she laughed and agreed to his terms. 

Why would anyone think Jaskier had no courage?

“He’s changed,” Geralt murmured, instead of snapping at her for being so condescending.

“Pankratzes never change,” Chrysanthemum replied dismissively. “I’m a Pankratz too, and I haven’t changed one bit since I married. His parents and siblings conform to tradition so easily you’d think they were actors. You can ask a Pankratz any question and know exactly what he’ll answer with.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said.

“At least he gave you the ring,” Chrysanthemum said, nodding at Geralt’s hand. “So many women he could have married, even at his age, but never one could wear that.”

Geralt frowned again. ‘His age’? Jaskier was barely thirty-six. That wasn’t an old age. “It’s a nice ring,” he allowed, because he could not imagine arguing that Jaskier was available for marriage.

Chrysanthemum smirked and answered, “Yes, it is. It’s been in the family since the Conjunction.”

Geralt almost told her that was impossible, a ring that old would be completely destroyed, surely. He looked at it, perfectly fitted to his sausage-sized fingers, and wondered why Jaskier would give him a family ring. “Hmm,” he said again, making a mental note to ask Jaskier about it. Then he decided to change the subject. “Which side of the family are you related to Jaskier on?”

A sly smile preceded her answer. “His mother was my first cousin,” she explained. “She was amazingly beautiful, and men from every social class asked her to marry them. She chose our third cousin twice removed, instead. Probably because she’s always loved the sea more than people.”

Geralt hummed encouragingly. The queen took the hint, and continued. “She was an odd one before she had Julian. Always singing at feasts and dancing at fetes. When I was small, I thought she was the most magical person in the world. Her mere presence could make one smile. Mother told me it was strange--that her own father was one of the Seelie court.”

“Should you be saying this in public?” Geralt cut in, glancing around sharply. There were five people close enough that he knew they could hear the queen, and eight more who probably could if they tried. Jaskier was near the back of the hall, laughing with some servants.

Chrysanthemum scoffed. “Everyone knows the stories. That’s probably why he’s so strange, too. Do you know, he refuses to claim the title of Count unless he’s visiting me?”

“Can’t imagine why,” Geralt muttered, and drank his wine.

Soon, the king announced that his dear wife was tired, and they should all go to their beds. Geralt stood, bowed to the royal couple, and made his way to Jaskier.

“You spoke to her for a while,” Jaskier said as soon as they were in earshot of each other. “What were you talking about?”

Geralt shrugged. “Gossip,” he grunted. When he heard Jaskier’s heart speed up, Geralt shook his head. “I didn’t find it important.”

Jaskier beamed at him. “Oh, well, if that’s the case,” he said, and changed the subject. “Chryssie told me that we can have the Celadon Suite. You’ll love it, Geralt, there is not a single corner that isn’t brightly lit and everything is so soft--”

Geralt listened to Jaskier’s chatter, focused more on his voice than his words, as they walked surely down a hall to the guest suites. A Seelie grandfather… no, not for Jaskier. The Seelie court were kind, mischievous, and tended to stay in Skellige. The ones he’d met had all said they preferred their own monsters over the main Continent’s, thank you very much.

The Celadon Suite was, frankly, much too green for Geralt’s taste; but it looked well against Jaskier’s teal-trimmed dusky blue outfit. There was a small receiving room with a dining table and two seating areas; the bedrooms, large and lush and leaden with silence; one bathing room tiled with white marble, the bathtub large enough for Geralt and his brothers to lounge in; and a small balcony off of the bigger bedroom. Geralt chose the smaller one immediately.

“Oh! Oh, Geralt!”

The Witcher turned, and Jaskier grabbed his arm. He’d taken off the circlet, and unbuttoned his doublet, but Geralt’s nostrils flared as he caught a scent that was not as carefree as Jaskier’s appearance.

“We should eat and drink water before sleeping,” Jaskier said, faking a smile. “Don’t want to throw up at breakfast!”

Geralt nodded, reluctantly, and followed Jaskier to the dining table.

They were both silent for a moment, looking at each other. Geralt relaxed slightly, taking in Jaskier’s familiar face, his reassuringly broad shoulders, the little curls of hair over his ears and his collarbone. This was Jaskier. His bard. His traveling companion. There was no need to be on high alert with him.

“Geralt,” Jaskier whispered, “What did she tell you?”

Geralt tapped his finger on the table for a moment, sorting his words. “She told me the ring you gave me is very old, and has always been in your family. She told me you were a coward when you were young. She said Pankratzes never change. And she implied that your grandfather on your mother’s side was of the Seelie Court. I don’t believe those last three for a moment. But I would like to know more about this ring.” Geralt set his hand on the table, palm down, and they both looked at the ring.

It was so small. A simple bronze band, a piece of agate, and six little pearls. Not that interesting. But it felt like... like being brought into Jaskier’s family, if only for a day or so. Having something so steeped in history pressed against his skin at all times felt like he was being asked to join that history.

But he was a Witcher, and human families were not for him.

Jaskier shrugged. “Mother said it would fit the hand of the person it was meant to,” he said, softly. “I don’t really remember the rest of her explanation. I was… lonely. So I decided it must mean that it would fit my very best friend.” He lifted his gaze to Geralt’s, and smiled. A real smile, one full of affection and happiness, so warm and enveloping that Geralt felt uncomfortable. “And it does! So you can’t say you aren’t my friend, because obviously you are!”

Geralt opened his mouth to deny it, then huffed in frustration and shook his head. Jaskier reached out and tucked his fingers between Geralt’s, interlocking their hands like cogs in a machine. The corner of Geralt’s mouth twitched. It always amused him that their hands were the same lengths, but Geralt’s was blockier, meant for work, and Jaskier’s hand was perfectly shaped to play any instrument. It was also interesting how Geralt’s wax-pale skin contrasted with Jaskier’s peachy hue, tanned ever so slightly.

He just liked looking at their hands.

Jaskier hummed a bar from a new song he was writing, and carefully wiggled his hand so that he could slide it under Geralt’s fingers, joining their hands. The Witcher didn’t mind. It felt nice, oddly.

“I… might have drunk too much,” he muttered, but he couldn’t look away from the tiny valley formed by their fingers. 

“Mm, me, too,” Jaskier murmured.

They sat in silence for even longer, watching the light from the lamps cast warm flickers on their clasped hands. It was so calm.

Idly, Geralt picked up Jaskier’s wilting flower circlet and draped it over their hands. Jaskier smiled.

“I’ll be yours, and you’ll be mine,” the bard whispered.

“Hmm. Friends and comrades,” the Witcher murmured back. “Joined in battle.”

“Bound by time.”

“Forever yours--”

“--Forever mine.”

Geralt’s medallion might have stirred, but probably not.

Jaskier pushed their hands upwards, so that their palms touched. “This isn’t for anyone else to know,” he whispered.

Geralt squeezed his hand back. “No,” he breathed. “This is ours.”

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

God of War (PS4) Review: Kratos’ Postal Grief Beard Versus Norse Mythology

Once upon a time, a man was born by the name of Cory Barlog and thus a coin was flipped. Would he become a videogame developer or would he take up guarding the Mines of Moria by pulling wizards into a precipice? Those really are the only two options with a name like Barlog. Anyway, apparently the Mines of Moria were a bit of a commute, so the world gained a talented Auteur developer with a unique vision for a game series about going postal in ancient Greece. Fast-foward a number of years specifically calculated to make you feel old and ancient Greece is a distant memory. Norse mythology is where all the cool kids hang out nowadays, and that’s where we’re going in today’s review.

As you might have guessed, I’ve just finished playing God of War (PS4), which is fun to say because it rhymes. It’s a very good game that should be a very bad game. When considering modern media artefacts, I’m often prompted to ask the question ‘what went so wrong?’, but this may be the first time I’ve had to ask the question ‘what went so right?’.

Let me explain: God of War 4 (I don’t care that they don’t put the number on the box art, that’s what it fucking is) makes a single, monumentally stupid creative decision that should ruin the entire enterprise, but doesn’t. And that creative decision was- wait for it- a stab at maturity.

The last time we saw Kratos- the world’s angriest mythical being- he was finishing his battle with the Greek gods in God of War 3. There was a moment in that game which, to me, typified what was so great about the series. If I recall the sequence of events correctly, you kill your way through an ocean of expendable goons and critters who are just trying to defend their home on Mount Olympus, dripping with blood and screaming furiously, then wander into the bedroom of one of ancient Greece’s sauciest goddesses and play a sex minigame that you win by fucking her so well that her handmaids orgasm too. Then you toddle outside again and, head cleared, solve an incredibly complex and cerebral puzzle involving non-Euclidean geometry and perspective manipulation that takes bloody ages. That, in a nutshell, was the core identity of the original God of War: a gleefully unrestrained and immature approach to sex and violence coupled with a grouchy willingness to make unsuspecting players feel like fucking idiots for no reason whatsoever. It was awesome. In contrast, God of War 4 picks up many, many years later with Kratos hiding out in Midgard of the Norse mythos and, for once, he hasn’t got a nark on and he’s not trying to stick his cock in someone with cartoonishly huge knockers. He’s just sad because his missus has passed away, leaving him and their young, impressionable son alone in a big, scary world full of trolls and ginger psychopaths. ‘Sad’ isn’t a completely new emotion for Kratos, but, up until this point, he was usually sad in a way that resulted in five hundred people getting their spines broken in a very colourful manner. Now he just wants to cremate the remains of the woman he loved and carry her ashes to the tallest peak in the nine realms so he can scatter her in accordance with her final wishes. And that’s what he does, with son- Atreus- in tow. It’s a twenty-plus hour game in which the objective is very simply to honour someone’s preferred funeral rites- nothing more, nothing less. It’s very modest by Kratos usual standards. Remember that his stated goal in the previous game was to punch freakin’ Zeus so hard that his face would go all concave and then repeatedly stamp on his corpse.

We never actually find out much about what Kratos was up to between games or how he met his wife. However, he’s a bit thiccer than in previous instalments and seems to have lost the use of the ‘jump’ button outside of context-sensitive environments. On that evidence, I choose to believe he’s been running a small but successful family restaurant called ‘Kratos’ Potatoes’ and enjoying it all a bit much. And why not? He beat up Zeus- if he just wants to create and sample homely yet exotic Greco-Norse fusion cuisine while growing a ridiculous straggly dad-beard, I say let him crack on. Actually, is it a ‘dad beard’ or is it a ‘grief beard’? I think they send them to videogame characters in the post whenever a loved one dies so they can signal to the world how sad they are through the medium of angsty facial hair. But where was? Oh yeah: cracking on with it.

Y’see this is where the plot comes in: the Norse gods won’t let Kratos crack on. They’re determined to make him bow before Odin- especially Baldur, who is way too invested in having a fight with Kratos for reasons that won’t become apparent until very late in the game. They just keep turning up and trying to break Kratos and his increasingly like-him-but-not-as-good-at-it son Atreus. This time around, our heroes commit heinous acts of violence to defend themselves, not enact revenge, as they travel, inexorably, to the top of a lonely mountain through landscapes of stunning natural beauty and many, many hostile creatures.

Of course, Kratos taking his son on a hiking holiday with added troll-murder and the occasional slap-fight with Norse mythology’s biggest killjoys doesn’t sound as interesting as the original games. After all, those were basically a production of Kill Bill in which the part of Bill was played by a guy with the power to summon lightning bolts and access to a seemingly unstoppable army of monsters and demigods. The ‘fun factor’ even seems to have taken another downgrade, in that Kratos no longer operates with the entertainingly demented passion of the insane: he has been tempered by time and love and managed to turn himself into a paragon of serious self control. So why is God of War 4 so bloody good? Partly, I suspect, the answer lies in the constantly evolving relationship between Kratos and Atreus, which gives the story an unbelievable amount of heart and always manages to feel very organic. Kratos never learned how to be a parent, and we essentially watch him do it in real time, forming a bond with his son that seems impossible at the start of the game and inevitable by the end. Partly, the games greatness lies in the characters you meet along the way, who range from bickering dwarves to talking, decapitated heads who prattle on like laid-back tour-guides. Partly, it’s in the beautiful, epic landscapes that make the journey across the Realms to the highest peak feel epic and significant, even while it is small and personal.

But a videogame is nothing without gameplay, and it is here that God of War 4 really shines. I loved the original God of War trilogy (especially the third instalment), but I rarely felt like I was playing as, y’know, a god of war. Kratos might not be an uncontrollable whirlwind of fury any more, but he feels truly powerful for the first time in the ongoing series. In fights, every punch feels like it could crack stone; every axe-throw like it could rend the sky; every chain-whip like it could legitimately start a forest-fire. Out of combat, Kratos moves around the environment with the stolid grace of a man who knows his movements are inevitable; irresistible; an imposition on the environment that can’t be denied. You climb and complete elaborate, complex traversals knowing that the satisfaction you feel isn’t just the satisfaction of finding the correct route or solving an obstacle, but the satisfaction of a being forcing his way through a landscape that resists him at every turn but cannot stop him. The puzzles- of which there are many- strike the perfect balance between conceptual trickiness and ease of execution to remind you that Kratos is smart as well as determined; that his mind is as indomitable as his body. Then there are the little touches involving heaving huge stone pillars and similar unnecessarily over-the-top efforts. In short, the gameplay is interwoven with who Kratos is- with what he is in way that seems completely unprecedented. Even the RPG elements feel  appropriate: they reflect the protagonist’s growing confidence in a skillet he hasn’t used in a long, long time.

Do I miss the uniquely juvenile, over the top identity of the old games? Absolutely: I’m a great fan of gratuitous gore and scantily clad women with big fuck-off swords. Usually, I find the desire for maturity in games to be a silly, pretentious trend that foolishly eschews anything obviously ‘fun’ for no reason other than courting the respect of people whose respect isn’t worth having. But I don’t think that’s what’s going on here- at least, not entirely. The developers of the God of War games are clearly artisans and craftsmen of extreme talent: their attention to detail is superb and their ability to weave a good tale from a simple premise is actually a little daunting for someone who considers himself a bloody good story-teller. It’s worth remembering that the de facto head of the studio, Barlog, became a father himself before commencing work on this game about a father learning to bond with his son. It feels personal and meant because it is. Other games might reach for superficially mature themes like family and redemption for altogether cynical reasons. God of War 4 does it because such thoughts are clearly much on the developer’s mind. I asked already ‘Do I miss the identity of the old games?’ and the answer is still yes. But that question deserves a follow-up: am I willing to embrace the identity of this new, quieter God of War anyway? And yes, yes I am.

But if we could have a few more women with enormous knockers and Kratos going properly batshit just once or twice in the next sequel, that would also be welcome. I mean, let’s try to strike a balance here, people, for pity’s sake.

[d3-iseefire]

She Walks in Shadow Chapter 18

The scar on Bilba’s back hurt, and it was pissing her off.

Largely because, up to that point, it had been about the only thing that didn’t hurt.

Having her younger body, free from scars and other wounds she’d picked up over the years, had been nice at first but the appeal was quickly fading. Every muscle hurt from her attempts to get back in shape, and the gait of the pony constantly reminded her that this body had virtually no riding experience whatsoever.

It was a miserable experience, and all of it was compounded farther by the ever-present feel of eyes boring into her back.

She shouldn’t have slept with him.

She knew that, obviously. She’d known it then and knew it doubly now. It was just that, at the time, the idea had been that she’d be the one suffering the consequences for it.

It had never occurred to her that he’d have any lasting hang-ups.

Just further proof of how little she’d known him to begin with.

In any event, sleeping with him had not had the desired effect. She’d expected it to settle her down, prove that neither of them was the same person. She’d expected it to help her stop wondering, cheapen it all even. Take it from the lost fantasy in her mind to the grounded reality, to the knowledge that what was lost could never again be found.

She’d expected it allow her to move on.

Or at least…she thought that was what her intention had been.

Instead she’d just ended up hurting him which, in hindsight, shouldn’t have surprised her. That was what she did, after all, wasn’t it? Hurt him. Failed him when he needed her most. It only made sense that ---

Bilba cursed quietly. Stop it, she ordered herself. Stop thinking of him as him. Even if he felt the same, smelled the same, even if the sun brightened his hair to the same burnished gold and his smile lit the same fire she’d felt back then.

It wasn’t him.

 He was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.

 Now if he’d just stop staring at her all the damn time.

He was probably still convinced he’d gotten her pregnant.

He hadn’t, of that she had no doubt. She’d been sent back to accomplish a task, and it wasn’t to give her a second chance. The Valar didn’t care a single, small hobbit and, even if they did, that hobbit certainly was never going to be her.

She was there to accomplish a task. A pregnancy would get in the way of that task which meant, simply put, she wasn’t pregnant.

He’d relax eventually, breathe a sigh of relief and place the entire incident in the back of his mind, under the label of “Mistakes Not to Be Repeated.” His interest would wane and turn elsewhere and…that would be that.

The discomfort in her back spiked unexpectedly and she tensed, unconsciously pulling her shoulders back as if she could somehow squeeze the pain out of her body.

“Are you all right?” Dwalin asked quietly from where he rode next to her.

“I’m fine,” she said shortly.

Dwalin’s gaze went to the horizon where the sun was in the process of sinking toward the earth. “We should be stopping soon.”

Bilba tsked. “I don’t care.”

He chuckled. “Sure you don’t.”

Bilba considered throwing a knife at him, but decided it wasn’t worth losing the progress she’d made in trying to gain Thorin’s trust. She’d ridden next to him nearly all day, simply chatting and trying to forge a relationship. If she wanted to get anywhere with him in the future, if she wanted any hope of changing things, having his trust and respect would be vital.

Dwalin settled back into silence next to her. He knew better than to try and push her, especially when she was in a bad mood.

The pain in her back spiked again, like a severe pinch she couldn’t relieve, and she let out an annoyed hiss. Her younger body was fast proving to be more of an irritant than her battle scarred one had been.

She forced herself to study the landscape, watching for potential threats. There hadn’t been anything this early the first time around but, then again, there hadn’t been orcs in the Shire the first time either.

They were still traveling through a mostly open plain and would continue to do so until they reached the Trollshaws.

The Trollshaws, and the actual trolls they’d met there the first time. Bilba still hadn’t decided what to do about them. As things stood at present, she had the advantage of knowing everything that was coming. The second she started to change things she would lose that advantage and be as blind as if she had been back then.

Movement came up on her left side and she turned her head to see Bofur riding alongside her. He grinned and reached up to tap his hat. “Lovely day we’re having.”

“It’s no different than the one that came before,” Bilba said, pain making her temper short, “or the one that will come after.” At least until they got closer to Erebor and winter began to set in. A cold breeze seemed to rush through her veins and, in the back of her mind, echoed the splintering sound of ice cracking on a frozen river.

She tensed, and her fingers curled around the reins.

Beside her, Bofur was chattering about something or other and she struggled to focus on him in the hopes it would take her mind off where it was trying to go.

It took her only a few minutes to become completely enthralled.

He was just so…alive.

It was such a stark contrast to how he’d been the last time she’d seen him. There’d been no light in his eyes then, and the few smiles he’d managed to dredge up were brittle and false.

None of them had come out of that last battle unscathed.

From Bombur who’d lost himself in the monotony of work, to Ori who’d found a second quest and followed it to the same bitter end as the first. Nori who’d given himself to the streets, Dori to the dark halls of his mind, and Balin who’d fled Erebor in search of something he could never find. Even Gloin who’d come out the best of them all with family and fortune awaiting him back in Ered Luin. He’d never spoken of the quest after returning, and stories she’d heard from others spoke of his struggle with nightmares, moodiness and flashes of temper.

It made her wonder sometimes, just what they had all hoped for that first time around. What would drive someone to set out on a mission where, going in, they knew the most likely outcome was death. Was it loyalty? Hope? Desperation?

What was it that had driven her to go? To give up the comforts of home and hearth to set out with a lot of strangers on a quest doomed to fail?

Whatever the case might have been, there was one thing she knew without question and that was that all their hopes, dreams and fears had been bound up in the figure of Thorin Oakenshield.

Bound with him, and died with him, and as Thorin had gone so had they all.

She rode now with a company of ghosts.

Fourteen souls had marched to Ravenhill, and eleven husks had left it.

Bofur cleared his throat awkwardly next to her. “Ah, I’m sorry, Lass. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave you alone.”

Bilba blinked in confusion, and then reached out and put a hand on his arm before he could drop back. “No, wait.” She hesitated as something inside her almost overwhelmed her, nearly desperate to replace the last image she’d had of Bofur with the one riding beside her now. “I’m the one who should apologize. I’m not used to riding. It’s put me in a foul mood.”

He grinned; a genuine one that poked at some dark corner of her heart and threatened to open a door she’d long since shut. “Well, it just so happens cheering up pretty lasses is a specialty of mine.”

The barest hint of a smile tugged at Bilba’s lips. “Is it?”

He nodded sagely. “That it is. If you’d like, I’d be happy to do my best to get your mind off—” he stumbled slightly, face reddening slightly, “—other things, that might be distressing you.”

He made a vague gesture in the direction of her saddle and, again, Bilba felt that ghost of a smile along with an almost desperate desire to recapture, if even for only a moment, some small piece of what that first journey had been.

Minus Thorin glaring at her every five seconds. That she was happy to do without.

But, as for the rest, what little of it that could be recaptured…that she was happy to entertain for however long it might last.

***

They traveled for several more hours, finally stopping only as the light began to change to the brilliant oranges and red of sunset.

By that time, she’d gathered quite the little group around her. Apparently, her willingness to have Bofur riding next to her had made various members of the company decide she was…approachable.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like them, or that she didn’t want to spend time with them. It was just that she was so out of practice. Out of practice with small talk, being in groups, being around more than just herself and her own thoughts. Before, she could go weeks without seeing someone, days without remembering to say a single word and then only to her pony.

She was out of practice with hospitality. She’d been bad at it to begin with and was worse now. Knowing when to smile and laugh and make small talk, thinking of questions to ask or answers to give. She had tried, a little, at first. There were just so many of them, though, and they were all crowded about her and it felt like the air was being sucked out even though they were all outside.

She’d eventually stopped trying and lapsed into silence, eyes focused on what little of the landscape she could see through the people around her. They hadn’t really noticed, or perhaps had simply allowed it, their conversation flowing around and over her in a cacophony of sound she couldn’t begin to follow.

Thorin finally called a halt on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the forest that lay before Rivendell and the foot of the Misty Mountains. Said mountains loomed before them even now, a craggy rock face rising up hundreds of feet into the air. When she’d been younger, her mother would sometimes take her on trips to see the elves and Bilba had always loved the sight of the mountains. They called forth a feeling of mystery and romanticism that would have her awake late into the night dreaming up epic tales of what fantastical sorts of creatures might live there.

She’d never told anyone but at least a tiny part of her decision to go on the quest had been a desire to finally set foot on those rocks and see for herself what lay beyond.

The answer, she’d soon found, was apparently rocks. Giant, rude rocks that couldn’t be bothered to tell you when you were standing on them and that liked to play catch��with other rocks.

She really was not looking forward to a repeat of that. Judging by the look on Dwalin’s face as he gazed up toward the not-so-distant peaks neither was he.

They set up camp under a low overhang very near to the edge of the cliff. Bilba had a vague memory of it from the first time but it was overshadowed by everything else that had happened and was preparing to happen again.

She did remember the sight of Fili and Kili huddled up under the overhang, mostly because she could recall being mesmerized by how the firelight played off Thorin’s oldest nephew.

The reality now, when compared to the memory still lurking in her mind, did not disappoint.

She waited until most everyone else had set up their bedrolls before unfurling hers on the edge near where Thorin’s was. It was far from the chatter of the rest of the Company and, after listening to them for the entire day, she could understand his desire for some peace and quiet, as much as could be found under the circumstances.

She wasn’t surprised when Dwalin dropped his bedroll next to hers.

He headed off to speak to Thorin and Bilba wandered over to drop down next to where Gandalf was seated on a large boulder.

“Are you all right?” he asked as she dropped down next to him.

Bilba’s eyes tracked over the company, watching as they laughed and chatted amongst themselves, joking and carrying on as if they were on a lark and not a suicide mission. “No,” she said finally, eyes going toward where Fili lounged against the rock shelf next to his brother, “but sometimes I wish I was.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper on the last, but she wasn’t surprised that Gandalf caught it anyway.

“And, what, pray tell,” he prodded gently, “is keeping you back, my dear?”

Fili’s eyes shifted toward hers, as if he knew she was looking, and Bilba turned away. “You know the answer to that, old man.” She pushed to her feet. “Neither of us is who we once were.”

“And is there a reason you can’t begin again?” his voice questioned from behind her. “As you both are now?”

Bilba didn’t answer. Instead she went to stand at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the forest far below. Night had fallen and there was little to see but a black void stretching out beneath her feet.

“What’s so fascinating about the dark?” an amused voice asked from behind her.

Bilba barely reacted. She’d felt him approaching, like a too tight string suddenly going slack.

Fili moved to stand next to her, arms crossed in an unconscious mirroring of her pose. A breeze coming up from below brushed an errant strand of hair over his shoulder and she had to clench her teeth against a surge of irrational jealousy.

It physically hurt to not be able to touch him. She’d ridden ahead of him all day, and had barely seen him outside of rest stops, but she’d been aware of him every second. She was convinced that, if pressed, she could have turned and pointed to his exact position without a moment’s hesitation.

“What will you do at the end?” The words came out of nowhere, born from a sudden need to give him a reason to keep standing beside her as long as possible. “After reclaiming Erebor?”

He shrugged. “Same thing I’m doing now, I suppose, just in a different place.”

“Oh.” She forgot sometimes that Fili already had a life well before he ever met her. That he’d been a prince in his own right, helping to rule Ered Luin alongside his uncle. In her mind, only the journey had existed. An independent world separate from the rest of Middle Earth.

She’d never met Fili outside of that. Had no idea about his life in Ered Luin. What his daily responsibilities had been, things that had annoyed him or made him happy, what he’d done in his free time.

If there had been a girl he’d had his eye on.

How she could have gone nearly an entire year without knowing any of that showed just how shallow their relationship must have been.

Just a dream, one that would never have survived the light of day. If they had retaken Erebor, he would have realized it. Seen just how poorly she measured up against those he’d left behind, just how out of place she was in the life he’d long ago established.

He’d have grown tired of her, and she’d have ended up in the same place she had the first time around.

But at least he’d have still been alive.

She’d have traded it all for him to have still been alive.

Would have traded it then and would trade it now.

“What are you planning to do?” Fili asked, breaking into her thoughts. “I heard that you sold your house before leaving.”

“I haven’t decided,” Bilba lied. “Perhaps I’ll go stay with the elves.”

“Because life in the Shire wasn’t boring enough?” Fili’s lips twisted. “My apologies, that was uncalled for.”

Bilba surprised herself by chuckling. “But fair. Life in the Shire isn’t exactly known for excitement. As for the elves—” she frowned. “I’ve been to Rivendell and I have to say that I have no idea what it is they do all day.”

“Right?” Fili asked. “Perhaps they simply wander about and practice looking pensive.”

Bilba’s lips quirked into a smile. “Perhaps, and let’s working on sounding grave and mysterious.” She shot a glance over her shoulder. “I wonder sometimes if Gandalf might not be part elf.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,�� Fili said dryly. “He does seem incapable of simply speaking straight. I think we could be in mortal peril and he’d waste time trying to cryptically tell us how to defend ourselves.”

“So he would,” Bilba murmured. Her good spirits flagged a bit at the thought of them being in mortal peril. They would be going through that soon enough.

Her eyes went to Thorin who was still resting against the edge of the stone. The last time around he had been the one standing here, staring out over the darkness while Balin had recounted the story of how he’d gotten his title, Oakenshield.

Disquiet moved through her. Why was it different? She tried to think back, and a hazy memory began to form. He’d been asleep back then too, but then he’d awakened…for dinner? No…it had been something else, but she couldn’t remember what.

Beside her, Fili raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

“No.” Bilba shook her head. She was being ridiculous. She was so used to living in constant danger, so used to paranoia, that she was seeing danger where there wasn’t any. Everything was fine. It was a miniscule change that could have been caused by any number of small, infinitesimal actions. It didn’t mean that –

A loud screen came from somewhere behind them, off in the darkness, and both she and Fili half turned to look.

“Looks like an owl got its dinner,” Fili mused.

“I suppose,” Bilba said slowly. The memory of their first trip pressed forward again.

A screech, she remembered. There had been a screech that time too, but from down below, in the valley. Fili and Kili had made a joke about orcs and that had…

She twisted back to look down into the darkness that masked the valley floor. Why would that have changed? She could understand other things, things that might have changed because they rode at a different pace or she said something different or a host of other things. She, Dwalin and Gandalf all remembered the first trip, it made perfect sense for some things to change no matter what they did or did not do.

But not this.

Nothing had delayed them that long, and they were in the same place so what could change –

Realization hit.

Ice ran through her veins and her heart thundered so hard in her chest it was a wonder it didn’t burst right through.

She spun, mouth opening to raise the alarm…and it was already too late.

Dark shadows stepped into the flickering firelight, and quickly resolved into orcs.

At least a dozen of them, if not more.

A shout rang out, she had no idea from whom, and then a flurry of activity broke out as everyone dove for their weapons at the same time. Thorin went from sleeping to standing at ready, sword clasped in hand all in one, simple move.

Bilba stood frozen. Her blood thundered in her veins and her heart threatened to burst right out of her chest. She felt cold, ice cold, and her eyes remained helplessly fixed on the empty spot between two of the larger orcs.

Orcs didn’t travel alone, and they didn’t travel without a leader. The bigger the group the more important the leader and for this one to be here…to be here when they shouldn’t be, when they hadn’t been…

Please don’t be him, she thought desperately. Please don’t, not yet. I’m not ready yet.

Please.

A new orc stepped into the light. One bigger, and stronger than any she’d seen in a very long time.

An albino, a condition so rare and unique amongst the species he was often referred as the pale orc.

One she hadn’t seen outside of her nightmares, in what felt like an Age.

One she’d have been grateful to never see again.

 Azog.

Follow on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16547237/chapters/38767136

[bad-at-names-and-faces]

Rumors and Misunderstandings

Chapter 10

[Fjord Landscape by Georg Anton Rasmussen]

Lars woke up to a knock at his door. 

"Mr. Nilsen," a servant said as he opened the door an inch, "His Excellency wishes to see you."

"What time is it?"

"Almost eleven, sir."

"Oh! Did the ambassador say what he wants to discuss?"

"No, sir."

"Thank you," Lars acknowledged.  The servant left, firmly closing the door, and Lars quickly dressed, and walked down the long hall to the ambassador's room. He knocked on the door. 

"Yes?" Mr. Meyer called from inside.

"It's Mr. Nilsen, sir."

"Oh! Please come in!"

The room was a similar size to his own, but facing toward the town. Lars had the feeling the ambassador had requested that.

"I've noticed that you've become friendly with the heir apparent," the ambassador stated.

"Yes,” he confirmed, confused by the question, “Sir?"

"It's quite nice.  He seems to be… an energetic young man."

"He is, sir."

"I noticed you were out riding yesterday, and I wondered if you might have learned anything about this morning's meeting."

"Meeting, sir?"

"Quite early, it seems. The queen had her council assembled. Does the prince know anything about this? Is there any chance he mentioned anything?"

"Well, no, sir," Lars began, "but, well…"

"Well?"

"We did encounter a member of the council riding back to Arendelle with a messenger. But no one seemed to have any idea what was going on."

"Curious…"

"Is there anything else, sir?"

"Now that I think of it, if you know the lay of the land a bit now, perhaps a short ride would do me some good. Do you have any obligations today?"

"No, sir.  I would be happy to, sir."

As they walked across the courtyard, Lars wondered what they would encounter in the stables today, but it was all quiet except for the snorting of the animals inside. The pair mounted their horses, and Lars showed him the way out of town that he had been shown the previous day.  The ambassador asked him if he had learned anything more about his family, and he had to admit that he had learned very little. What little he had learned may as well have been misremembered out of eagerness to please a visitor, for all he knew. Still, the ambassador was pleased to hear of his acquaintance with the general. 

"You do know he will be the regent if anything happens before the prince's twenty-first birthday," Mr. Meyer reminded him.

"Yes, of course," Lars acknowledged, "though that isn't something I would wish on them. But why him?"

"He is very attached to the royal family, going back to the grandfather, and if you ask me, there's always some advantage to a potential regent with no… conflict of interest."

Lars nodded. "Sir, do you know anything about the general's ward?"

"Which one? All I know is that he and his wife take in orphans from time to time."

"To help in the tavern?"

"Not to my knowledge. I think the general's wife had been running that by herself for quite some time before they were married.  I think as far as the wards are concerned, they've generally raised them and introduced them into society, such as it is around here…"

Lars tried to relax his face from the involuntary wince he felt it make at the ambassador's extraneous comment. He might not have learned very much of interest to Mr. Meyer, but he had gathered that the eldest royal children, at least, felt quite aware of the comments that were made by some of the visitors. 

They had come to the path that Frederick had told him about the day before. Lars stopped his horse, and the ambassador pulled up beside him.

"Sir," Lars began, "do you see that path?"

"Yes, what about it?"  the ambassador asked, looking to the dark, narrow trail the young man was pointing to.

"Yesterday, when we were here, the prince told me it led to trolls. I really don't know if he was teasing me or not…"

"Oh, yes, the trolls. They're real enough, I've been told," the ambassador said, continuing his way on the open trail they had been on.

"Really?” Lars said, catching up to him, “My mother had told us stories about them, but I thought it was only a fairy tale…"

"Some people would think the same about stories of our kingdom," Mr. Meyer said quickly dismissing the young man’s concern, "but how much farther did you ride? I don't wish to get lost, and I had promised some other dignitaries I would meet them for an early dinner in the town."

"This was about as far as we went," Lars said, looking up ahead at the cliff along the fjord.

“Did you bring a pocket watch? I forgot mine, and I can never tell the time of day by the sun this far north,” the ambassador said.

“No, sir, but it must be early afternoon by now,” Lars told him.

The men turned around and went back into town. The ambassador's colleagues were just exiting the castle gates as they arrived, so Lars offered to return his horse for him. Mr. Meyer happily accepted the offer. 

As he approached the stables, Lars heard angry yelling, and what sounded like the mysterious voice he had heard the first day. 

"Hello!" Lars called out, not wishing to get in the middle of any dispute.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Kristoff said as he stepped outside, looking rather angry. “Your Highness,” Lars bowed.

“You really don’t have to do that, you know,” Kristoff said, chuckling quietly as his face softened.

“I could lose my position if I don’t.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure anyone who would care isn’t around.  Call me Kristoff.”

“If you’re sure…”

“So, you were out riding two horses at once?”

“No, just… the ambassador had lunch plans after we went riding.  And… I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Oh, nothing, really.  What did you hear?”

“Nothing, really.  And I really didn’t.  The ambassador has started asking me if I’ve learned anything, just so you know.  Especially with that meeting this morning.” “Ah, yes. What does he know about it?” Kristoff said, his back mostly turned, focusing on finishing a few tasks.

“Nothing, which is all I knew, I promise.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much," Kristoff paused, trying to remember what he had been telling Sven before he was interrupted, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything too specific.  He turned back to face the young man, "So you know, there’s a good chance if you say anything interesting, I’ll be telling my wife about it.”

“Oh, and then the council will hear about it, and whatever I say will make its way back to the ambassador…”

“Don’t worry about the council.  We’re… they’re… the less said, the better.”

“I see.  So," Lars thought for a second, "it’s you against them?”

“Hm, now I think I'm the one who should keep my mouth shut.”

“Well, that’s nice, to have an ally like that.  I hope when we get married it’s like that…”

“We?” Kristoff stiffened.

“Whenever that is…  It could be a while, of course.  Who knows when we can get all the family in one place…”

“Which family?”

“The family in Corona.”

“Your mother and brother?”

“And her mother and father and sisters. Getting them all in one place would be difficult.”

“Who are we talking about?”

“Elizabeth, my fiancee?”

“Oh,” said Kristoff, letting out a relieved breath.

“What?” Lars asked.

“Nothing…”  Kristoff paused, “So, you’ve known her for some time?”

“Yes.  I’m sorry, did I not mention her before?  Who did you think I was talking about? Oh…”  Lars began to flush.

“I didn’t say anything,”  Kristoff smirked.

“No, no, she’s very nice, but I hardly even know her, so even if I weren’t already engaged...”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I… really should just...” Lars had finished settling the horses, but stood still, wishing he could disappear.

“Have you had a chance to eat?" Kristoff suggested, "You got left taking the horses back while they were off eating, you must be hungry.”

"I'll go out later," Lars said, "I don't really want to run into them… no, that sounded wrong. I just mean, they probably wanted to have a more private conversation."

"I'm about to head to the kitchen. As long as you're not too picky, there's plenty to eat."

"Oh, actually, that might be nice. I really didn't want to impose, but I know I was told I could…"

Kristoff nodded and walked out the door, waving Lars to follow. They crossed the courtyard and went in a side door directly to the kitchen. 

"Sandwich?" Kristoff offered, taking out a loaf of bread and a knife and cutting off some slices.

"Sure… is there ham?" 

Kristoff reached up for one of the meats hanging above and cut off a few slices.

"Thank you," Lars said as he took the sandwich. "You know, you're much friendlier than the ambassador led me to believe."

"I hope you haven't told him that," Kristoff laughed, "I have a reputation to keep up."

"Oh, no, I haven't," Lars replied earnestly. 

Kristoff smirked. The two ate in silence for a few minutes. Lars finished and looked around for a way to clean his hands. Kristoff handed him a clean towel. 

"Just so you know, I probably offended that ambassador of yours the last time he was here. I really don't remember what I did," Kristoff confessed, trying not to laugh.

"Um, yes, he might have mentioned something about that," Lars said nervously, "in fact, I think he told me that nobody other than the queen was worth seeing at diplomatic functions."

"I won't argue with that," Kristoff smiled.  

Lars fidgeted slightly, realizing that he might sound like a horrible flatterer now.

"So," Kristoff broke the silence, "I haven't heard much about the ride you took yesterday. Did you enjoy the views?"

"Yes, very much… I… learned a lot."

"I wasn't aware of my son being a source of state secrets…"

"Nothing like that… at least, I don't think so… but I realized I should have paid more attention to my mother's stories…"

"Which stories would those be?"

"All of them, really… most of them my mother had said were real, I just didn't quite believe her. But even she thought the trolls were just stories to scare children…"

"Is that so?"

"I don't know, really. That's what my brother and I always figured. The other stories, we'd sometimes argue about whether they could be true, but those, she always told us she saw them,  even if we didn't believe her. ��With the trolls, it was just stories from her mother, and she probably heard them from her mother…"

Kristoff nodded, and began to walk outside with Lars following. 

“I have to be honest,” Lars continued, “I thought he was just teasing, but then Mr. Meyer seems to take it seriously… and his sense of humor is… well, that’s not his idea of a joke.”

“But you didn’t see them for yourself?”

“No, it was right before we headed back into town for lunch.  Frederick just told me when I asked where one of the paths went…”

“Ah, good to know.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” Kristoff said quickly,  “Your family is from here, I remember. Have you found any of them?”

“Not really.  Nilsen is far too common of a name, I think.  And my mother isn’t the most social of people, so it’s quite possible that anyone who really knew her isn’t around any more, for one reason or another.”

“Well, at this point, do you really want to learn more, or is that ambassador making you feel like you should know more so that you don’t feel like he hired you by mistake?”

“Umm…” Lars hesitated, “That was more why I started asking around.  Now I think I’m actually curious.  Just…  I realize that I know so little, and there was that thing Halima said… I told the ambassador that she was probably just being polite saying she might have remembered my mother, but I really hope there weren’t so many young widows with babies right then…  I’m rambling.  There are a lot of possible explanations.”

Kristoff looked like he was about to ask something, but shook his head to himself and walked on.

"But you know," Lars continued, "I was thinking I should write and ask my mother. Why don't I go do that now? Thank you for lunch!"

Lars ran back inside the castle and walked up to his room.  Closing the door behind him, he went to his desk and took out the stack of his mother's letters. He read through, and there was nothing that stood out about Arendelle. He got out a blank sheet of paper, and began writing.

[winchesterandpie]

Part of the Company Part 5 (Thorin x reader)

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Word count: 3332

Warnings: None

A/N: A million billion thanks to the amazing @jezzula for helping me edit (seriously, you’re the best, ily)! We’re still on a bit of a slow burn here, but you’ll have to see how much longer that lasts... *evil cackling* Gif is not mine! Translations are from https://islenthatur.wordpress.com/welcome/ 

Enjoy!! I love you all!!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

I did not like this bag. It was itchy, it was restrictive, it was currently impeding me from going on a murderous rage, and just an overall 1/10 experience, to say nothing of our impending fate of being eaten. I wouldn’t recommend it. To be fair, I wasn’t on the spit yet, but being under a pile of dwarves wasn’t much better.

“Don’t bother cooking them. Let’s just sit on them and squash them into jelly.” Now, that sounded like a thoroughly unpleasant prospect.

“They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage.” At least with that idea my death wouldn’t be wholly unstylish. Points for artistic creativity to that troll.

“Ooh, that does sound quite nice.” The dwarves were grumbling and complaining about the situation, but I had tuned them out in the hopes of hearing something useful.

“Never mind the seasoning; we ain’t got all night!” Oh? This could be interesting. “Dawn ain’t far away, so let’s get a move on. I don’t fancy being turned to stone.” Definitely interesting. Now I just had to get out from under a pile of dwarves and stall the trolls. As it just so happened, Bilbo had the same idea as I did, and he was on top of the pile.

“Wait! You’re making a terrible mistake!” Bilbo called.

“You can’t reason with them, they’re half-wits!”

“Half-wits? What does that make us?” Somehow, after more than a century with dwarves, it never failed to surprise me how thick-skulled dwarves could be. Bilbo hopped up in his sack, turning to the trolls.

“Uh, I meant with the, uh, with, uh, with the seasoning.” There we go - stalling tactics.

“What about the seasoning?” The trolls’ interest was piqued, especially the one only one who seemed to have any sort of taste buds.

“Well have you smelled them? You’re going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up.” He definitely wasn’t wrong, and I chuckled at the thought. The dwarves, on the other hand, didn’t find it quite as funny.

“What do you know about cooking dwarf?”

“Shut up and let the, uh, flurgaburburrahobbit talk.”

“Uh, the.. the secret to cooking dwarf is, um--” Uh oh. He was freezing up under the scrutiny. Admittedly, for one unaccustomed to such demands, he was doing a decent job. But a decent job could still get us all killed.

“Yes? Come on.”

“It’s, uh”

“Tell us the secret.” The trolls were impatient, and we were running out of time.

“Ye-yes, I’m telling you, the secret is…” Come on, Bilbo, you can do it! “... to skin them first!” Apparently not. That was definitely not the life-saving stalling tactic I’d been hoping for.

“Tom, get me the filleting knife,” the troll said, holding out a hand, as the dwarves breathed out threatenings in Bilbo’s direction. I was too shocked to say anything immediately, and by the time I could more action was unfolding. I probably would have laughed at how nervous he was… if I wasn’t so directly involved in the situation.

“What a load of rubbish! I’ve eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff them, I say, boots and all.”

“He’s right! Nothing wrong with a bit of raw dwarf!” One of the monsters grabbed Bombur’s sack, lifting it towards his mouth. “Nice and crunchy.”

“Not-- not that one, he--he’s infected!” This idea actually had some potential.

“You what?”

“Yeah, he’s got worms in his… tubes.” That seemed to do the trick - the troll tossed Bombur back onto the pile, and I could practically see the light bulb go off in Bilbo’s head. Unfortunately, this meant that the already limited oxygen in my lungs got forced out abruptly, leaving me gasping for breath for a moment. Breathing hurt, but I couldn’t tell if something was wrong or if it was just the result of the weight piled on top of me.

“In-in fact they all have. They’re infested with parasites. It’s a terrible business - I wouldn’t risk it. I really wouldn’t,” Bilbo said, gaining confidence as he went on.

“Parasites? Did he say parasites?”

“We don’t have parasites! You have parasites!”

“What are you talking about, laddie?”

The dwarves were quite vocal about how much they absolutely did not have parasites. In any other situation it would have been laughing, but here it could prove fatal.

“He’s right!” I shouted over the grumpy dwarves, forcing myself not to gasp at the pain in my chest. “They’ve got a massive infestation. I’ve been traveling with them for a year now - I should know!”

“And you don’t?” The troll raised an eyebrow

“I’m a girl! It’s a well known fact that girls don’t get parasites!”

Thorin seemed to get the message and shot me a look before kicking the others in the pile.

That seemed to jolt them into an understanding, which thankfully diverted the trolls’ attention from the fact that it would indeed make me edible, which I had realized too late.

“I’ve got parasites as big as my arm!”

Mine are the biggest parasites! I’ve got huge parasites!” Ever the competitive one, Kili’s parasites just had to be the biggest. There was no way I was going to let him forget it.

“We’re riddled!”

“Yes, I’m riddled!”

“Yes, we are! Badly!” I was never going to let any of them live this exact moment down.

“What would you have us do, then? Let ‘em all go?” This troll came to stand before Bilbo, and his tone indicated that he was catching on. That couldn’t be a good sign.

“Well…”

“You think I don’t know what you’re up to?” The troll emphasized his point by poking the poor hobbit. “This little ferret is taking us for fools!”

“Ferret?”

“Fools?” Both hobbit and troll sounded indignant at the other troll’s insult. All of a sudden, Gandalf stepped out onto a large rock and relief flooded through my system.

“The dawn will take you all!” The whole company seemed to take a breath in relief at the wizard’s appearance.

“Who’s that?” one of the trolls asked.

“No idea.”

“Can we eat ‘im too?”

In an instant that seemed to freeze in time, Gandalf lifted up the staff before slamming it down onto the ground, causing the rock to split in two. Light flooded the clearing and the trolls tried to shield their eyes as slowly their skin seemed to turn to drying clay. With a final growl, they hardened in place, frozen forever as stone statues.

Cheers went up from the grinning dwarves and I laughed giddily. Even Thorin cracked a smile. We were safe now.

“Oh, get your foot out of my back!” Dwalin grumbled loudly.

Bilbo and Gandalf got the first of the dwarves’ scratchy burlap prisons untied, and the dwarves moved to help the others. Once the pile was cleared from off the top of me, Kili bent to cut open the sack while Fili did the same for his uncle.  Several set to getting the dwarves off the spit after putting out the fire from below them.

“Are you alright?” Thorin was at my side as soon as we were both free, scanning me for injuries as he poked and prodded my abdomen. I wasn’t about to tell him I had messed up my ribs - he was too concerned for me already

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” I insisted, but when he hit one of my ribs, I couldn’t keep from flinching. “Ahhhh. I think I might have bruised a rib or two when Bombur landed on us.”

“Oin!” he called out, worry coloring his tone.

“Thorin, I’ll be fine,” I tried to reassure him. “Really, there’s nothing he can do for a bruised rib.”

“What is it you need, laddie?” Oin approached.

“It’s Y/N’s ribs - she thinks she bruised them when the troll dropped Bombur back onto the pile.” Thorin’s hand was still on my arm, warm and steady.

“I’m sorry to say it, but there’s naught to be done for a rib injury, Thorin.” Oin gestured helplessly. “I can get ya something for the pain when we get a camp set up, lassie.” With another shrug, he turned back to where the other dwarves were.

“Told you so,” I said, breathing as shallowly as possible as I wrapped an arm protectively around myself. “Seriously though, I’ll be alright. It’s nothing a little time won’t fix. Though I think a few more days off firewood collecting duty wouldn’t go amiss.” Thorin chuckled, and I laughed a little before flinching at the pain it caused. This was definitely not going to be a comfortable few days on the road.

“I think we can find a way to ensure that.” His hand still rested on my arm, and the other came up to brush a piece of hair away from my face. He was so close, and I wished desperately that he would just lean a little closer… Whoa, kiddo… Hold your horses, there. I knew full well nothing would ever come of my feelings for Thorin, especially since I wasn’t even from Middle Earth. Gandalf thumping one of the trolls’ foreheads with a satisfied look on his face brought us abruptly out of… whatever that was. “I must speak to Gandalf. Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I’ll be fine, worrywart.” I sent him off with a wave and a reassuring smile. He nodded once and turned to Gandalf. Once his concerned gaze left me, I sank down onto a convenient log, holding my ribs in a vain attempt to keep them from moving.

“Y/N? What happened?” A concerned Fili quickly made an appearance at my side, with Kili not far behind him. I tried to wave them off, not keen to have more people worrying and fussing over me. A grumpy, overprotective, sweet king was more than enough. By the valar, I’m hopeless, I thought, rolling my eyes at my mental description of Thorin.

“It’s nothing time won’t heal. I’m fine. Go worry about Bilbo.”

“Are you sure?” Kili’s wide-eyed puppy dog look would’ve had anyone else melting.

“Yes!” I snapped. It wouldn’t work on me today. They held up their hands in meek surrender, backing off to go find the hobbit. I’d have to apologize later.

“You lot, on your feet. We’re going looking for the troll’s cave.” There was grumbling at the order, there always was when the company had to get up, but they rose nonetheless.

“Up you get.” Thorin extended a hand to me when he was within reach, his voice gentler than it had been a moment ago.

“Do I have to?” I tried Kili’s tactic of puppy-dog eyes, not wanting to move just yet.

“We have to keep moving, my azaghâl (warrior).” Apparently I wasn’t as adept at it as Kili was. “I wish I could give you more than that.”

“Fine,” I sighed dramatically. “Help me up, then.” With a mischievous grin, he lifted me carefully in his arms and started walking back toward our horses.

“Put me down, you ridiculous dwarf!” I smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “My legs are still perfectly functional.”

“You didn’t really think I’d be so cruel as to make you walk all the way to your horse after making you get up, did you?”

“I know better than to expect anything from the Heir of Durin. Anything but trouble, that is,” I teased affectionately, feeling the rumble of his laughter in his chest.

“If you hadn’t gone and injured yourself, I’d be seriously considering dropping you right now.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I suppose I’ll let you off with a warning this time. After all, what would Dis say?” He set me down next to Obsidian just long enough to pick me up by my waist and lift me onto the horse’s back. “Can you manage to stay on him on your own?”

“I’ll be fine, Thorin,” I reassured him. “Let’s just find that troll cave so I can sleep.” With a nod, he turned to lead company, the rest of which had remained on foot.

I just can’t leave you alone for ten minutes, can I? Obsidian’s gaze seemed to ask me as the dark-haired dwarf looked over his shoulder at my repeatedly. He’s worried about you.

“Hush, Dian. He worries about everyone in the company.”

Not like how he worries about you.

“Oh please, he’s a king. Thorin could never think of a commoner like that, let alone me.”

Obsidian flicked his ears in disagreement, but dropped the subject.

It wasn’t long before the cave was found. Reeking like nothing else I’d ever smelled certainly helped lead us to it.

“‘Stay out here.’ ‘Don’t get off the horse.’” I mimicked, complete with obnoxious expressions. “Ugh. Dwarves.”

You’re the one who likes him. Obsidian rattled his mane at me.

“Oh, be quiet. It doesn’t matter anyways.”

I would have much rather been exploring the troll hoard than stuck outside doing nothing as Thorin had insisted. On the other hand, I was grateful for the fresh air. Even from out here, I could smell a little of what the inside must’ve smelled like, and it wasn’t pleasant.

“We’re makin’ a long term deposit,” Gloin explained himself to Dwalin, who was making a face at their digging.

“Let’s get out of this foul place. Come on, let’s go!” Thorin’s commanding voice rang out, but the dwarves kept burying their treasure. “ Bofur! Gloin! Nori!” Reluctantly, they stood, kicking a last spray of dirt before they obeyed Thorin.

The king himself came towards me, a new sword and bow in hand.

“Find anything interesting?”

“An elvish sword and an elvish bow caught my eye. I wondered if you might like to have the bow?” He extended the bow to me to examine. I took it, awed by the fine workmanship.

“Thorin, this is incredible! Thank you.” I reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder in gratitude. He smiled at my enthusiasm, lifting his hand to cover mine. I would’ve hugged him if he wouldn’t have had a fit the moment I tried to get off the horse.

“I’m glad you like it.” His fingers intertwined with mine. “I hope it serves you well.” A sudden commotion of wildlife in the trees had us tensing up.

“Thorin? What do you think that is?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, dropping my hand to draw his sword before alerting the company. “Something’s coming!”

“Gandalf!”

“Stay together! Hurry now! Arm yourselves,” Gandalf rallied the dwarves, jogging together into the trees. I laid an arrow on my new bowstring, ready for whatever would come.

A sled drawn by rabbits came crashing through the trees toward us. The scruffy, brown-clad figure pulled them to a stop by us.

“Thieves! Fire! Murder!” He shouted. That was never something reassuring to hear from someone you didn’t know.

“Radagast! Radagast the Brown!” Gandalf warmly greeted the new person. Since Gandalf relaxed, the rest of us relaxed too, content to trust Gandalf. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong.”

“Yes?” That didn’t sound like good news at all.

Radagast opened his mouth, making as if to speak, only he didn’t. His mouth closed again, before repeating several times, as though he’d forgotten what he was about to say.

“Oh, just give me a minute. Um… Oh, I had a thought, and now I’ve lost it. It was… it was right there - on the tip of my tongue!” He curled his tongue, making an odd face as Gandalf’s brows drew together. “Oh, it’s not a thought at all - it’s a silly old…” He paused briefly as the grey wizard pulled a bug out of his mouth. “Stick insect!” Radagast finished.

That was definitely not the “impressive wizard” image that Gandalf seemed to carefully cultivate, and I could tell that the dwarves were more than confused by it. I think Gandalf could tell, for he led Radagast a little ways away so that they could discuss their “wizard business” in private.

“Am I allowed down now?”

“I’ve a feeling something is coming. I would feel better if you stayed up there for now.”

“Thorin, you realize that I can defend myself, right?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Of course you can, I taught you myself.”

“Then why don’t you trust me to do it?” I’m sure my eyes betrayed something of what I felt, and his eyes softened immediately.

“I do, Y/N. I do trust you.” He set one of his hands on my knee, as if urging me to understand something. “I just… I can’t risk losing you.”

“You won’t lose me, Melhekhul! (my king) I simply wish to be more helpful than I can be here.”

“Normally, I would agree with you, but you’re injured right now, and I have a bad feeling that something is on its way. Something dangerous.” This memory of the movie was coming back to me, and he was right - wargs were coming.

“I suppose you have a point.” I dropped my eyes from his gaze. After all, he was right, and it was obvious that he was being careful because he cared and not to try to annoy me.

A howl split the air, a little ways in the distance, making my hair stand on end. Obsidian’s ears flicked back and forth as he pranced around uneasily.

“Was that a wolf? Are there -- are there wolves out there?” Bilbo looked up suddenly, clearly on edge.

“Wolves? No, that is not a wolf.” Bofur answered him

“Thorin, look out!” I shouted when I saw a warg appear above us. It leapt down, but Thorin quickly struck it with Orcrist, killing it instantly. While his sword was still stuck in the warg’s corpse, another one showed its ugly head on the other side. Kili got off a shot at it, and it fell close to Thorin, but it wasn’t dead yet. I took a shot at it, my arrow piercing directly through its eye and into its brain at the same moment that Dwalin hit it hard with an axe.

“Warg-Scouts! Which means an Orc pack is not far behind.” Thorin said urgently as he freed his sword.

“Orc pack?”

“Don’t worry, Bilbo, we’ll protect you,” I assured him, hoping to be able to make good on that.

“Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?”

“No one,” Thorin answered the wizard’s query.

“Who did you tell?” I could see where Gandalf’s urgency came from - somebody was after us, and somehow they had to have learned of our quest.

“No one, I swear,” Thorin insisted. “What in Durin’s name is going on?”

“You’re being hunted.” At those words, Thorin moved closer to me, as though attempting to stand between me and the danger we could not see.

“We have to get out of here.”

“We can’t! We have no ponies; they bolted.” If I were a horse, I definitely would’ve bolted as well. I was lucky that Obsidian hadn’t, though the pony was a brave one. His muscles were taut, his ears pinned flat, but he hadn’t run.

“I’ll draw them off,” Radagast offered.

“These are Gundabad Wargs, they will outrun you,” Gandalf pointed it out as though it were obvious.

“These are Rhosgobel Rabbits. I’d like to see them try.” The Brown Wizard smirked, taking it for a challenge.

“I’ll help draw them off.” I nudged Obsidian forward a couple of steps.

“No, I forbid it.”

“Thorin, I could be helpful. If you insist that I stay on Obsidian, then at least let me help.”

“Did you not hear Gandalf? These are Gundabad Wargs.”

“So what? Not even a Gundabad Warg can outrun a pony. And I’ve got a bow and plenty of arrows.” He was hesitating - my logic was wearing down his opposition, if only because the number of options was limited.

“Alright. But don’t take unnecessary risks, do you understand me?”

“Thorin, I’ll be fine. Now let’s go before they find us.”

Muahahaha... Gotta love cliffhangers, right? Hope you enjoyed!

Part Six 

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[ardenttheories]

Pesterquest Volume 7 notes, all locked under the cut as usual. As a side note, I once a fucking gain didn’t get my achievement for completing the Route, this time Terezi’s, so. Fuck me, I guess.

EQUIUS

Reader’s remembering more without truly remembering it now. The trees, garden, caves, and mall were some of the “most recent” places they’ve been to in Friendsim. 

Oh. Reader’s home is the shitty little crumbling building they stayed in during the events of Friendsim. I don’t know what’s sadder; that they still don’t know who they are enough to know where home is, or that everything they know about themself is centred around Friendsim - the events of which they still don’t remember. 

The bitterness they feel at that is sad. They really don’t have a home outside of that, huh?

“You freeze like an anime protagonist” - hm. HM. I don’t trust like that. 

Equius freaking out at the sight of Reader and actively trying to NOT punch them is sweet. Also, funny as hell.

Oh. That’s. That’s a lot more horse than I was expecting.

AURTHOUR. MY GOD YOU LOOK A LOT BETTER LIKE THIS. Although, nice hint to the theory that Reader is a lusus-like being, with the Reader comparing themself to Aurthour. 

Did Equius just fucking growl? This poor fucking idiot doesn’t know how to react to Reader’s non-apparent bloodcaste. You fucking himbo just relax.

Of course they made the fucking “there are two wolves inside you” meme about horses and Equius wanting to get yelled at/yell at

How to befriend Equius: like milk and horses, because apparently that makes you High Status, and not just a very lonely idiot who’s so stuck up his own ass about the Hemospectrum that he can’t see the people around him through the bullshit.

Equius has a lot of gamer shit? Interesting. 

Two points:

Reader’s typing style is so fucking cute, and this is the first time I think we’ve seen them type proper. This seems significant. Like, they’ve got a voice now, and it’s distinctive and them and not us. Looks like they might be taking control a little?

Additionally, we just got to see Karkat’s Knight of Blood powers at work; essentially enforcing that Equius befriend Reader and complete the Bonds that they’re trying to desperately to set up, while also allowing Equius someone to be “real” with by stating that Reader exists outside of the Hemospectrum. It’s also just really sweet to see Karkat talking about Reader like that. 

Equius really just. Doesn’t know how social interactions work. I think he relies on the Hemospectrum to explain shit for him, because he seems genuinely uncomfortable with the idea that there’s no formula to follow. Especially since he’s giving that power to Reader - that says a lot about how out of his depth he is. Even the dumbass little “I command it” is funny. He’s so out of his depth and he’s trying to pretend that he knows what he’s doing still. 

Equius doesn’t have it in him to actually kill people, which is genuinely sweet but also says a lot about why he’s so conflicted with the Hemospectrum. He’s really not cut out to be a Highblood the way it says he should be. 

Oh. Oh my god, he’s so excited to see Nepeta. He was shaking with excitement at the prospect of being able to see her. 

OH NO HE COULDN’T GO. But how interesting. “Stop trying to skip ahead”. So why did that work with Gamzee (albeit Karkat then chickened out)? Because we never actually saw Gamzee, and it’d probably work with Nepeta? 

The text wasn’t coloured but I’m curious if this is Dirk now. Doc Scratch sure as fuck doesn’t swear like that, and as far as I’m aware he’s the only one with narrative control within the main canon/fanon, besides Alternate Calliope. The fact that the thing is trying to keep everything to a strict plot would definitely suggest it. Though if Dirk is T-Posing in a hallway on the Theseus just to talk to Reader, I’m going to flip off the handle. 

Equius knowing what narrative control is just threw me through a fucking loop, but I’ll play along. Lets pretend that actually makes some sort of sense, because either he figured it out in that short moment without even knowing what Retconning is or why they were being blocked, or he just. Knows. Which, I suppose as an Heir of Void he might? He inherits Secrets and the Unknown - so maybe him knowing isn’t so odd at all.

Confirmation that Equius doesn’t know how to act outside of a society and is, in fact, very uncomfortable with not knowing but envies how the Reader is just somehow capable of that: confirmed. “How do you know where you belong, or if you belong.”

That’s. Some good advice from Reader, honestly, but also sad? They’re defining themself through their relationships again. I hope this means they’re figuring more out about themself this time. Also that this helps Equius - to figure out that he can define himself and not allow other shit he doesn’t really vibe with define him. Especially if he makes his own community. 

Oh. Equius tries to hone his strength in order to figure out why he’s a biological freak. “Reigning in an aberrant traint and defining” himself by it. And he doesn’t know which rules he likes following and which he doesn’t know how to ignore - he’s just as lost about himself as he is about everything else. 

“He looks like he might be about to tell you the story, but somehow you keep not learning the lesson where you should just chill and experience something instead of leap to try to figure it out before it happens” - is it just me, or does this narrator not sound like any of the others. Usually they sound like “Reader”, or like Hussie in the comic, or sometimes like the characters, but this... doesn’t. This is that narrative figure admonishing Reader for the previous timeline. Which is a little more interconnected than the last ones have been, and a whole lot more obvious.

“It’s like there’s narrative precedent for this moment existing in more than one plane of truth”. I actively love how that shows A) that there’s multiple timeline-based reasons for the loss of Equius’ horn and B) that trying to view a Void Player’s past isn’t easy because they’re just that naturally hidden.

TEREZI

Oh my god. Terezi that’s so fucking extra.

I’m assuming that means she’s talking to Vriska? She’s seriously mad. Madder than in the comic. I like the fact that we get to see more of her emotions during this whole phase now that there’s no plot to hinder.

Reader pointing out that the Alternian legal system is brutal in a way that’s just completely fucked up and also not typical of how Terezi seems to be as a person, but also highlighting that she doesn’t seem to see that there’s an issue with the system because of its laws and logistics she knows to a T that perfectly align with what Mind is? HELLA. That’s what a Seer do, babey! She learns her Mind from the law, THAT’S her Benefactor, and then she figures it out for herself!

Terezi being confused about the game, expecting him to ask about team leaders and shit, shows that - potentially - Reader’s actions have irrevocably fucked up her powers as a Seer of Mind. Or at least that she’s not looking at the right Options anymore, because she doesn’t know what they are.

(Also, Karkat not shutting up about Dave? Valid.)

TEREZI KNOWS THE HYPOCRACY AND IS JUST DOING THE SAME THING AS TYZIAS I’M GOING TO DIE. She can’t save everyone but at least she can save them for now, until she gets to a point where she can save everyone.

So that weird ass area is “an ambiguous nexus of metaphysical realities”. Definitely a place that doesn’t really exist yet sort of does. Interesting that they haven’t been thrown out yet, though. Maybe because Reader wasn’t really trying to go anywhere? They just remembered, and aimlessly used their powers. 

Gamzee called Reader a “themster” and I am wheezing.

Terezi realising she blamed Vriska for shit they did together when she knew it was something their fucked up society made them do, and realising she’s not exactly innocent herself, is really fucking sad. Kids shouldn’t have to go through this sort of shit. 

The thing watching them is approving of Reader taking Terezi back to Vriska? I’m wondering if it’s either happy because they’re continuing the plot, or because they’re fixing things. That hulking T-posing figure isn’t there anymore - and it seems a lot more demure. So maybe this entity is something else?

Oh, Terezi admitting she had fun hurting other people and getting upset over it is sad. Shows a lot about how screwed up Alternia is that they make murder fun for kids until it’s just completely normal for them to do. 

Best way to explain a Seer of Mind: behind the person everyone calls the Leader, controlling the spotlight. 

Oh FUCK yes. Vriska and Terezi are Scourge Sisters again, but this time against the people who really goddamn deserve it. I think this was cathartic for both of them. The blame they’ve been placing on themselves isn’t entirely gone, but it is a little better, and they’ve got no reason to go killing innocent trolls anymore against their own desires. 

Hints towards VrisRezi are also back, and I think they both really needed that. They don’t have to be rivals, as fun and as tale-told as it’d be. They can work together and be themselves and go against the shit they’ve been told is normal and that they’ve been justifying their whole lives. And these girls are gonna be healthier and happier for it!!

Not as much external plot in this one, but I get the feeling that Nexus is going to be showing up a lot more and becoming much more important. Interesting, too, that there’s (I think) two entities out there; one trying to stop Reader from skipping ahead, and one that was just watching to see what’d happen. That, or it’s the same entity - but I get the feeling one wants to stop Reader while the other wants Reader to progress in their own way?

On top of that, I really don’t know how to feel about how much of this narrative felt Dirk-esque. I might be paranoid, since a friend of mine pointed out that Friendsim led up to the Epilogues/Hiveswap and onward into Pesterquest, so Pesterquest must be leading into something, too. She thinks it’s Homestuck^2, and I kind of hope so, because if we get ANOTHER game after this I might die... but I wouldn’t be surprised, either. 

[aimmyarrowshigh]

aheavenlyrush replied to your post “I’ve been on tumblr since 2012 and I was even a John Green fan for a...”

i checked and it happened in 2015

aheavenlyrush replied to your post “I’ve been on tumblr since 2012 and I was even a John Green fan for a...”

i saw that jg post on my feed and i had no energy to comment on it but truly when i saw that you had i felt such relief!! i remember making that one post about stiefvater defending him and telling teenage girls to be quiet and the response to it still fucking haunts me i swear

Oy, was it really that recently? The last three years have taken 900 years. And yeah... Maggie Stiefvater’s post about it was a Really Bad Look, and iirc that was the environment that spawned the beginning of the batshit “Keep YA Kind”* concern-trolling thing (yep, also 2015) that was mainly used to silence girls and women and people of color whenever the four white cishet men in YA fucked up between 2015 and 2018, when it finally publicly came out that most of them were, yk, fucking up because they’re legitimately horrible people and maybe the people calling them out should have been taken seriously.

* The other notable “why the fuck is this happening???? why is HE the one getting the sympathy here?????” events from “Keep YA Kind,” which, listen, I would bet you anything that it was very very nearly called “Keep Kidlit Kind” until the only person involved with 1/4 of a braincell managed to realize the acronym on their Twitter handle looked REALL BAD:

Andrew Smith, a straight white adult man, says out loud with his human adult man mouth, that he knows he can’t write female characters well and relies on fetishization and stereotypes because he never really met a girl until his daughter (??? SO WHAT IS YOUR WIFE, ANDREW? CHOPPED LIVER?) and, being as that is Bullshit and also his books were also being lauded as though they were Infinite fucking Jest Jr. even though the interview in question was for a book in which mutant grasshoppers take over the earth and a teenage boy gets trapped in a bunker with a teenage girl who eventually has to git to birthin’ babies she doesn’t want and isn’t medically prepared to have safely For The Good Of Humanity, he’s called out.

He’s called out mostly on a technical, writing level at first, even! Like, “Here’s how to write a female character: you write a fully considered, well-rounded character. They’re a girl.” And Andrew Smith FLIPS HIS SHIT, does some op-ed about how his mother used to beat him so he can’t see girls as people, and makes his twitter private. The “Keep YA Kind” sycophants support him HARD.

And then this happens to pop up on a mysterious Twitter that just HAPPENS to start while HIS twitter’s offline...

NOTE: Jay Asher, author of 13 Reasons Why, was literally dropped from his publisher and SCWBI for being a sexual predator. So like, I don’t think he was bullied, I think his predation was being remarked upon. Like, idk, maybe that he was being called creepy or sth idk idk idk

And then when A.S. decided to unsockpuppet to promote his next book, The Alex Crow, which is about mutant crows and a bunker or whatever:

The “asshole” in specific that Andrew Smith was calling an asshole was delightful human being and fellow author Kate Messner, who, coincidentally, was one of the victims to come out against Lemony Snicket’s sexual harrassment, so she’s had a BULLSHIT time just trying to do her JOB of being an author while female.

Which leads to Tommy Wallach! All-around fucknut! Whose major interest seems to be being That Guy In Philosophy 101 Who Always Has To Be Devil’s Advocate, Even Though No One Asked, and has a deeply vested interest in making sure that teenage girl readers -- who are his target audience, because he chose to write YA, as an adult man who made a choice in what he wrote and chose to make it YA, and not, like, any of the hundreds of genres that AREN’T largely written about and for teenage girls, yk -- know that teenage girls are Dumb. Victoria Schwab actually wrote an essay for YA Books Central about the incessant problem that IS/WAS Tommy Wallach called “We Need To Talk About Tommy” back in -- you guessed it! -- 2016, but it’s offline now and I’m not going to go Wayback it rn.

I’m just going to copypasta YAinterrobang’s Wallach timeline because he’s exhausting, he reminds me of undergrad.

Wallach’s continual pattern of behavior is worth discussing, especially in the context of sexism in YA and the continual marginalization of “diverse” voices in the community despite the efforts of the We Need Diverse Books movement.

Wallach’s problematic behavior runs back over a year, starting with a defense of Andrew Smith where he ignores the opinions of author and advocate Tessa Gratton in favor of a dictionary definition of sexism. (Andrew Smith’s behavior and the fallout around his statements have, of course, already been documented on YA Interrobang in “The Curious Case of Andrew Smith, Twitter & sexism.”) Wallach postures that women are inherently “other” from men, accuses Gratton of “gin[ning]up the controversy” and explains that he is a feminist because he was “raised by a single working mother and she’s still my best friend in the world.��

[View Wallach’s defense of Smith and attack on Gratton as a .pdf.]

Fast forward to later that year. Author Justina Ireland takes to Twitter to discuss a book where she feels the black character is self-hating. Ireland, being black herself, is asked about the book in question; she says that it’s Wallach’s debut novel We All Looked Up. Though Wallach is not tagged, he swoops into the conversation and demands Ireland provide proof that his character Anita is self-hating before claiming that author Dhonielle Clayton, who is also black, is friends with him and “engaged” with him on the issues in the book.

Clayton later stated publicly that she had not done any sensitivity reading on We All Looked Up.

What brought Wallach’s behavior to the attention of the YA world as a whole came this past November in the wake of the horrifying terrorist attacks in Paris. When the hashtag #prayforparis went viral, Wallach responded with multiple social media posts and a blog post about how atheism was the only belief that could make the world a better place. (Though Wallach argues that it is not, in fact, a belief: “The fact that we have a word for it makes it seem like it’s equivalent to other belief systems, but it’s not. The absence of something is not equivalent to the thing itself.”)

[View Wallach’s comments on atheism as a .pdf.]

After Wallach Tweeted that he was a “a rabid atheist, and the world would be a better place if more folk were” – a Tweet he subsequently deleted before deleting his account in its entirety – he doubled down in a block post that outlined all the way religions failed and all the reasons atheism was awesome.

Those who tried to explain to him why this behavior was – to say the least – problematic found themselves quickly blocked or shut down; at once point, Wallach tried to explain anti-Semitism to Jewish author Hannah Moskowitz before claiming that “if [her]parents are atheists and [his]dad is Jewish, [he’s] as much Jewish as [her].”

(For those wondering, Wallach blocked me during this incident despite being friendly with me and having taken my advice previously; while he did believe me in regards to his behavior towards Justina Ireland, which you can see in Tweets above, my snarky comment to him about “the only good people are the people who are exactly like me” was, apparently, too much for him to take. As Wallach’s account has since been deleted and I purged my social media account in January, that interaction is no longer publicly available.)

Take this behavior in comparison to author LJ Silverman, who recently received a sea of anti-Semitic hate mail – including crude manipulated images of her in an oven – for Tweeting that she was worried about the upcoming election in the context of history. Wallach painted himself to be the victim, somebody “attacked” for insulting all of the religious folks in the YA community, while Silverman, who simply shared a worry plaguing her, became a victim of virulent trolls.

While Wallach deleted his social media accounts after this, there were no public consequences to his actions despite ill-will from the YA community at large. If another member of the YA community had spoken out – one of our Catholic or Islamic or Jewish or Mormon authors, for instance – the backlash would have been substantially worse, possibly career-ruining.

Wallach’s career, however, was not ruined; he recently landed a six-figure deal for a book trilogy centered around a “holy war.”

And thus, we return to Wallach’s dismissive comments on suicide – which, it turned out, were neither new or original. In a blog post deleted after it came to light during this discussion, Wallach rated “the top ten literary suicides (organized by emo-ness)” which included all of the characters of HBO’s Girls – “It’s really just a fantasy of mine.” – and, ranking at number one, Sylvia Plath – who is not a character but a real person who suffered from depression before taking her own life at a young age.

[View Wallach’s post on suicide as a .pdf.]

“I’m only going to talk about the fact that a successful YA author found it appropriate to glorify, romanticize, and mock what for many of his readers is among the highest causes of death,” wrote Schwab in her “We Need To Talk About Tommy” post. “That this author could be so very careless and flippant and insensitive about such a very serious issue is abhorrent. That two years after penning this post he still sees suicide as something to be made light of, to be used as a marketing tool.”

Simon & Schuster made no public comment about any of Wallach’s comments. His career, save for making enemies of some fellow authors, seems relatively unscathed by his callous actions.

Anyway, the moral of the story is, like, if you wanna read books by straight white dudes, go for it, but check them out from the library. Spend your book-buying money on books by women, nonbinary/other folks, and dudes who aren’t straight and/or white. Straight white men, PARTICULARLY in categories of literature that are largely targeted towards girls and women, and largely written by girls and women -- but published, edited, and marketed by other straight white men -- are lauded FAR above what they’re actually worth, as like, storytellers or human people go.

The Glass Escalator is a one-way trip to wonderland, but YA is a skyscraper that was built by women and I PROMISE you, whatever book by one of these dudes you’re considering reading, there’s a better version by a woman and/or person of color on the shelves nearby that just didn’t get 1/10th of the marketing money.

And of course there should be an effort to be kind on social media, but “keep YA kind”... to whom? To the people who were being silenced when they were pointing out legitimate problems with the behaviors of men in social power? (And one of whom, in the case of Jay Asher, was LITERALLY DANGEROUS BC HE IS A SEXUAL PREDATOR.) Like, really? There had to be a hashtag campaign to silence dozens of people with legitimate, not-bullying-just-pointing-out-problems-that-are-problems-with-stuff-you-did-dude problems, to make social media feel more comfortable for four middle-aged straight white men?

As though the outside world isn’t comfortable enough for middle-aged straight white men????

[bluephoenixdruidicprincess]

Shadowhunters Season 3 Episode 6, A Window Into An Empty Room -- Review

Welcome to another Shadowhunters review. Yup, it's time for my weekly subjugation of bad writing. But at this point, who's fault is it really? The writers? Or mine -- for consistently choosing to come back to this show. I could quite simply say no and drop the show but I'm just too damn curious to do that. I guess at this point, it’s self-imposed torture. So Season 3, Episode 6, A Window Into an Empty Room, here we come.

So some weeks back, I made a post about my thoughts and opinions on the Dom Controversy and I got a lot of new followers because of that. Apparently, some of you think I'm really wise and mature for saying the things I said in that post. And whereas I'm honored that you're showing an interest in me, I would like to preface this review with saying that I am NOT a huge supporter of this show. I do enjoy certain elements of it but I'm not what would be classified as a devoted fan. For me, Shadowhunters is not a good show and I do get very critical of the show in my reviews. Honestly, for me, I watch the show because 1) I'm too curious not to and 2) I find that this show can be so bad its funny and that's how I reap enjoyment out of it. I am not at all invested in this show or its characters anymore. If you're a die hard fan and you lash out at everyone who has a different opinion than you, you might want to skip these. I'm just saying. My reviews may not be for you. If you do decide to be a total troll, well then pay attention to the below disclaimer. 

This is going to be an honest review of my thoughts and feelings regarding this episode. If you're the kind of Shadowhunters fan where you only want to hear positive things about the show, this is not the place for you. If you decide to stick around and get offended by what is said, then that's on you. I warned you. Just know that if you send me any rude comments or messages, I will 100% ignore you. I find that's the best way to deal with bullies. I work 14 hour days. Do you really think I want to waste my incredibly valuable free time dealing with derogatory comments? Hell no. This review will consist of my honest opinions. Opinions are never right or wrong. I'm not telling YOU how to think and feel. I'm telling you what I, quirky and socially awkward me, think and feel. So please, lets discuss with dignity and respect. If I'm critical about this show, it's only because I want it to get better. There is, in fact, a difference between hating a show and being critical of it. I do not hate Shadowhunters, I am being critical and analyzing the flaws as I would with any other show. There are positives but there are also negatives. It's great if you want to promote positivity with this show (and I encourage you to do so) but that doesn't mean I'm not going to point out the things that are legitimately wrong with it. Also, keep in mind that despite the fact that I do like the books, me being critical of this show has nothing to do with my fondness for the books. I don't really care if the show deviates from the source material as long as the changes are good, it makes sense, and it doesn't create plot holes within the confines of the world the show has created. My problems with this show are problems I would have with any show or book for that matter. I think it's perfectly reasonable to take issue with a show that has plot holes, shoddy world building, and inconsistent characters. There will be spoilers for the books and movie. 

If any of you know me, you would think this would be the kind of episode I'd enjoy. Just chalk full of character moments and whatnot. That stuff's catnip for your resident hopeless romantic. But this episode really left me feeling apathetic and when I say apathetic, I mean BORED. Considering most of this episode took place in a bar, you’d think I would have a great time with this episode. Watching the Shadowhunters characters hang out a bar, watching their shenanigans, it should’ve been a lot of fun. Yeah, no. I can't believe I wasted my lunch hour watching this episode. This episode had a couple of issues. 1)Remember, how I talk about how the show switches through plots super quickly and as a result you lose any sense of empathy for the story being told? Well, that's what happened here except it was less about plot and more about character dynamics. We kept on switching through character scenes and you couldn't really get a grasp on the good, juicy character bits because once you were starting to feel something you were immediately taken to a completely different character dynamic and then you lost whatever impact that scene would've had the potential to leave you with. And 2) Subtlety. This show is always not subtle but this episode in particular failed a lot. It was completely unsubtle in everything it tried to do. And of course, like I say in every review, the dialogue is atrocious. It was so forced and it made me want to pull my hair out. I wish I knew what happened in the writers room. I wish I could have a meeting with the writers and be all, "Yo, this isn't how real people talk to each other." But let's get on with this.

The A-Plot...Which I Wish Would Hurry Up and End

Let's talk about this just so I can get it out of the way. Still hate this plot. There's nothing interesting about it. Lillith is being her typical bland self, giving Jace the exact same villain monologue she gave him a couple of episodes ago. Which by the way, makes no sense. Why is she grand standing to someone who clearly is not in control of his own mind at the moment? I mean, it would seem like he doesn't even really remember what happens so what's the point of her gloating to him? And like I said, she gives him her motivations a second time as if the audience didn't remember the first time. I really hate it when the writers treat me like I'm stupid.

But apparently, Owl Jace needs to find one last virtuous human to, I guess, desecrate their purity. I think that's what's going on here. Jace finds one on the street but bumps into Alec before he can complete his mission. Then we get this overly friendly Jace persona who is obviously not Jace. This is what I mean by subtlety. You can tell clearly from the tone, that Jace doesn't really have any feelings about anyone for that matter. Which I find odd to begin with since Lillith only took away his love for Clary. He should still be feeling things for Alec and Izzy, right? Unless his ability to love is tied to Clary, which on a psychological level, I hope isn't the case because that's really unhealthy. So for whatever reason, the show decided to go all the way across the room instead of just meeting somewhere in the middle with this. Writers, your audience is smart. You can throw in some subtlety, a pinch of subtext, and we'll pick up on it. 

Everyone has a seemingly happy reunion with Jace but Clary (being her typical Mary Sue self) feels like something's off. She meets with Magnus to discuss the demon who attacked her and after getting some kind of demonic heat signature off of Clary's body (yeah, it's just as convenient and weird as it sounds) determines that the demon he's been fighting is the same demon that attacked her. He sends a fire message for assistance and we get a visit from Brother Zachariah. Book fans know who he is. And I myself, as a book fan, didn't give two shits. Why? Because while I applaud the show for putting in book nods, especially someone as much loved as Brother Zachariah is, these nods mean absolutely nothing without the context. Brother Zachariah was completely unnecessary here. It could've been any Silent Brother or really any warlock to relay this information. And seeing how they've messed up the yin fen storyline, I don't want them to touch any of the TID characters. Please, keep them separate in their own universes. As I've said, I don't mind when the show puts book things in but at the same time, I wish they would throw the books away and do their own thing because them mixing and mashing their own ideas for the story plus book ideas hasn't been working out very well. Choose one track of adaptation and stay on that track. Trying to do both isn't working. It just makes the story overly convoluted and confusing. 

While at the Hunter's Moon, Jace comes across both Ollie and Charlie who are apparently giving off virtuous auras. And at this point, I was good with either one of them going crazy and potentially dying. I don't like either one of them but Jace goes after Ollie just as Clary and Magnus realize that she's in danger. They show up, completely suck at fighting Owl Jace and then Luke shoots Jace a few times and that causes him to lose the weird shape shifting mask he has going on and climbs up a building spider-man style and Ollie, now possessed (I guess), runs off. Most likely to kill her lover. As horrible as it sounds, I'm hoping both her and her partner (Sam) die in the next episode. I find both of them woefully uninteresting and since the show doesn’t have the time to flesh them out as characters, they're just a waste of screen time. And now everyone is super shocked now that they know what the audience has known for a long time, Jace is the Owl. Although, honestly, Clary didn't react super shocked. How about once more with feeling, Clary? 

And also, let's talk about how dumb the writers apparently think we are. Magnus tells Clary that Lillith most likely is hiding in human form and Clary legitimately asks, "Is that even possible?" What show has this girl been watching? Clary, practically everything in your world shape shifts. You, yourself, have done it. You turned the Mortal Cup into a World's Best Dad mug. The first demon you ever encountered was a shapeshifter. Of course it's fucking possible. Why did the writers feel like this question needed to be asked? Did they think we forgot? Considering how often it's integrated into the story, I'm thinking not. I know I'm certainly not likely to forget considering what a huge plot hole that shape shifting rune is and I'm reminded of the plothole every time its used. 

Also, I'm not sure if it was just me, but did anyone else find Clary particularly cringe-worthy in this episode? None of her lines were working for me. But then again, I guess I've never made any secret about how much I don't like her as a character to begin with. Plain and simple, she just such a cheesy, one-dimensional character and Kat really doesn't bring anything special to the table in portraying her. Even though I think Kat McNamara is a wonderful person, I think she's absolutely adorable, her as Clary just has never worked for me. 

Also, this episode ended in a really strange spot. They ended right on the climax. Even though I was glad the episode had finally ended, I was left with, "Well, where's the rest of it?" Which is something I haven't had to think since the ye old days of Season One. 

More Malec Immortality Drama

So we got more Malec drama in this episode with plenty of Alec salt, which I adore. Because speaking as a mortal being who will eventually die, coming to terms that your immortal lover is going to watch you wither and die over the years can't really be that comforting of a thought. But again, while this is a plot point in the books, I don't think it works that well for Show Malec. Show Alec has always been proven that he wants to talk things out, get things out in the open and here, he's just kind of giving up and letting Magnus call the shots on how this fight goes just doesn't feel like Show Alec. And so help me, if in the next episode he apologizes for everything and Magnus apologizes for nothing, I'm going to pull out my hair.

Unfortunately, this fight is very in character for Show Magnus. How dismissive he is of issues but this is an issue I feel he really shouldn't be so naturally dismissive of. He's had a lot of lovers. Surely, he's had this problem before. And yet, he just expects Alec to forget about it and just be fine with it? No words of wisdom, nothing? At least in the book, there was kind of a reason given for how this was handled. When Malec first started, Magnus was very upfront with the relationship they were in. They were to live in the now and not talk about his past and it only became an issue when Alec realized he wanted more. And then Show Magnus gets angry with Alec and calls Alec a child and Alec decides to leave. Which good for Alec. I feel like they both need to do some soul searching here. Alec needs to figure out what he really wants and if Magnus can give him what he really wants. We all want love but love is founded upon equality. It requires both parties to be on equal ground. Both parties need to be able to grow and change with the other. And that's something that's not possible for Magnus who won't be able to grow and change with Alec. So Alec needs to decide if he's really okay with that. And Magnus also needs to look at this and really think about why this bothers Alec. Why Alec can't just let this go. He's essentially asking Alec to give up everything while he loses nothing. It's that compromising issue I've often talked about with Magnus. For him, it's always his way or the highway. He never meets at common ground. Like I've said before, there's probably a reason why he's had 12,000 relationships and I don't think it entirely has to do with the immortality issue. If I'm dating someone who refuses to compromise, I'll show them my lack of compromising when I toss them to the curb.

And Magnus stans, feel free to come at me if you want. But you’ll only be wasting your time as I have little to no investment in this show or its characters anymore. I’m literally just watching to see what happens. 

But Alec meets that shadowhunter who complimented his bravery last episode and of course, we only get one nice shadowhunter in the Institute because he's needed to further Alec's plot. Why can't there just be nice people at the Insitute? Why do they all have to be jerks? Complexity, writers, PLEASE. I get that the shows’ going for this whole xenophobic angle with the shadowhunters but not only is it boring as hell but I think it's kind of unbelievable considering these shadowhunters are living in NYC, home of the weird -- and that's just on a mundane level, I bet the shadow world is infinitely more weird. Maybe the Institute's xenophobic shadowhunters would make more sense if the Institute was in Lima Ohio but NYC, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. But blonde shadowhunter (he doesn't even have a name yet) tells Alec to pretty much just stay true to himself and do whatever he feels is right. I'm not sure if this is going to lead to Alec cheating on Magnus, who knows. But hopefully this fight will end with both of them having done some thorough soul searching and coming out with a much stronger relationship than they had before. Because I'll be real with you guys, the way Malec was left off in the finale of 2B, even though they were together, it still felt like a pebble could be thrown at the foundation of their relationship and it would crumble to dust. And we got fans talking about how much they can't wait for these two to get married? They have far too many issues to be thinking about marriage right now. 

But in this Malec subplot, Magnus does tell Clary that both he and Alec said things they regret so #progress for Magnus, I guess. 2B Magnus would never have said that. Never would've entertained the idea that he might've reacted badly to something. 

Izzy and the Boyfriend I Don't Care About...And Then the Boyfriend I Do Care About

The show is really toting around this Charlie angle. They're trying so hard to make the audience see this guy as a legitimate character. But the show's issue is that by them having every character tell us how great Charlie is, good character that does not make. We need to see him interact with Izzy, interact with Izzy's world, build real bonds with these other characters for me to give a shit about him. The only thing we know about this guy is he's a pediatric surgeon which I find laughable considering the atrocious stitches he gave Izzy last episode and potentially a creepy stalker. See my episode 5 review if you're confused about my stalker remark. Basically, the show has its characters treat Charlie as this amazing guy for Izzy but do nothing to make the audience care about him. He's just a very bland, run of the mill character and I hope he doesn't stick around for too long. But then again, did he really have any potential to be anything but that anyway? The show keeps on jumping through plots and character dynamics so quickly, they don't have time to develop Charlie as a character. Again, subtlety is the key here. When introducing a new character, the audience doesn't want a character jammed down there throat and being told we should like him, we want to make that decision on our own with actual given character development. But sadly we get none of that.

Then we got some Sizzy feels which were just awesome. I really like the angle the show has been going with Sizzy. Just being these really casual friends supporting each other whenever they need it. This may be the one endgame book couple that the show doesn't completely screw up. I actually really like what they're doing here and hopefully they'll keep doing what they're doing. I don't know if they're going to be endgame in the show but I really hope so. Alberto and Emeraude have a really fun chemistry and I'm interested to see how that'll play out in a relationship dynamic. But again, it all falls on the writers to be subtle and complex with the relationship. Because if there's any endgame couple within the TMI books that's complex, it's Sizzy. 

Also, Izzy was completely badass with her staff again. Yes, I approve. Throw that whip to the trash.

More Heidi vs Maureen

We got more Heidi in this episode and whereas I didn't completely hate her storyline, I can't help but feel this might be more impactful with Show Maureen. For one thing, Show Maureen has a relationship with the audience. We've met her before so we're more likely to care about her. She was a friend of Simon's to begin with so the guilt of knowing that he did this to one of his friends would've been so much more powerful. And then giving her up to the Praetor Lupus probably would've killed him. I keep on imagining this storyline of Simon accidentally turning Maureen and Raphael torturing her into becoming a daylighter and through her torture the only thing she could focus on was Simon and the massive crush she had on him. That through this torture, he was her center and this caused her to fixate on him in an unhealthy way. Simon could've been dealing with this and having a hard time trying to save Maureen from herself but also trying to protect his friends from her. Since Maureen was also Clary's friend we could've had some interesting character dynamics with her. Clary, despite being a fully fledged shadowhunter, still wants to help her friend. And then at the end, when Maureen really goes off the rails, Clary realizes the identity problem she has. She hasn't chosen to be a shadowhunter or a mundane. She's trying to keep one foot in each world instead of choosing. And her lack of choosing is what brought her to the Maureen situation. So yeah, this basically just turned into a rant on how I think Maureen would've been far more interesting in this plot than Heidi could ever hope to be.

Also, I want to point out how dumb it is to incorporate Heidi into the story only to get rid of her a few episodes later. If she doesn't come back at a later point, what was the point of this storyline? It'll just turn into a waste of screen time. 

Maryse De-Runed and Everyone's Fine With It

So everyone's being super chill about Maryse's derunement. Or I should say everyone who has a name on this show and if they have an attachement to an actual character plot. I still don't agree with Maryse's punishment. I definitely feel like it's a little uneven and dumb. I kind of wish we got something leading up to the derunement. But instead Maryse just pops up and is all, "yup, no longer got my tats." The show also needs to make up their minds on rules for this derunement as well. Are they or are they not allowed to have relationships with other shadowhunters? The altercation when she first shows up leads me to think they're not but then Alec as the leader of the Institute says no, Marsye is welcome anytime. And I'm all for Alec breaking rules but then I'm also like, "It is the law, why is he still the head of the Institute if he keeps on breaking rules?" Clearly he's the only progressive shadowhunter around besides blondie. I highly doubt they'd allow someone like him to be in a position of power. Shadowhunters are a military force and in a military force, rules are probably the most important thing within the structure. You don’t break the rules and not suffer consequences. But this is Freeform, what am I thinking? Apply logic? Maybe I really have gone insane.

Then we get some really clunky dialogue. Seriously, who says, "My Daughter" in a serious way anymore? Whenever my parents utter that phrase, it's usually meant to be sarcastic or glib. And Izzy tells Maryse she, Alec, and Jace are taking her out for the night. In which they spend some time with Maryse and then all immediately abandon her at the Hunter's Moon because you know, they've got relationship dynamics to flesh out after all. Maryse was just a way to get them all in one place. 

And in another attack of the writers not being subtle, we have Luke out of nowhere flirting with Maryse which I found to be quite cringey. Not the acting because I could watch Isaiah Mustafa all day. It's just him out of nowhere being all of sudden overly friendly with Maryse. When it was teased that Maryse and Luke were going to become a thing, I was like, "I'm down with that." They're relationship could be really interesting. But of course, I forgot about the writer's inability to be subtle and a relationship like theirs requires both complexity and subtlety. Which sadly does not exist in this show's resume. 

Well, that's Season 3 Episode 6, A Window Into an Empty Room for you. Man, that title is a mouthful. Honestly, not a fan of this episode. A couple of scenes I liked but as I've said previously, this show has a tendency to have too many plots going on at once and as a result can't give enough time to those individual plots. The same thing happened here with this episode. Instead of plot, though, it was character relationships. Lots of character relationships to get through but not nearly enough time was spent with on any single one to leave me resonating with emotion. It was all very clunky and boring to watch. And this episode was extremely unsubtle with everything it attempted to do. Plus, the dialogue was atrocious and I really do feel like these writers are either 1) sociopaths who have only a very surface level grasp of human emotion and a very surface level grasp of what you should say in certain situations or 2) they feed their scripts through a robot that writes the most generic dialogue to move the episode along. It’s not even that the dialogue is bad (I mean it is, don’t get me wrong), but it’s also boring as hell. I'd probably give this episode a C. I just didn't find it interesting. Sorry guys. As always, I'll hope for better next week. 

That's all I've got for you guys. If you had any thoughts, I'd love to hear them. As always, please be respectful. These are my opinions and they do not, in any way, reflect yours. If you really feel you need to be a troll and leave me hate, feel free to do so but just know, I probably won't respond. Like I’ve said, I have very little investment in this show and its characters. Leaving me hate isn’t going to do anything because I just don’t care enough to be offended.

[blatherkatt]

Title: The Calm Is Terrifying When The Storm Is All You Know [Homestuck]

Chapter 31: Light 

Summary: There were two kinds of trolls who went to Earth: rich shitheads with too much money and free time, and desperate assholes who couldn’t survive on Alternia, even with the best efforts of the young Condesce. Karkat hated the planet almost immediately, but with his home planet too dangerous for mutants, he really didn’t have any choice but to hide out on this weird little diurnal planet. At least he’d be safe. Or so he thought, right before blundering his way into an accidental friendship with the son of an anti-troll terrorist.

Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: Injuries and blood (including in illustrations), near death experience, suicidal imagery (**the character’s not actually suicidal i promise its just the imagery of the scene could read that way), mentioned alcohol abuse, mentioned physical abuse, some minor medical talk; Illustrated

Author’s note: chapter is named after the song Light by Sleeping At Last which u can access by clicking that link, but for best effect u should wait to do that until you’re at the final scene/the part that starts with “Climbing out of sleep” and then just like. listen to it on repeat for the rest of the scene 

also wow thanks tumblr for killing the color quality on the pics from the dream jfC whys it so brown its supposed to be way orangeyer 

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They were in a safehouse, evidently. One chosen by Terezi, who was going to want to know how exactly Rose and Rachel had gotten to the scene before she did, just as soon as she returned from chasing down Derek and dealing with on-sight investigation. That was going to be an interesting conversation, certainly. Explaining that a bird had shown them the way was going to be difficult, especially with the crow now nowhere to be seen.

And yet, Rose still found that she’d prefer to be in the midst of that uncomfortable conversation right now, rather than where she currently sat: on a chair outside the room Dave had been rushed into, next to her mother. The door muffled most sound, but she could make out the beeping of a heart monitor and sometimes catch what two doctors tending to Dave were saying. The heart monitor was worryingly unsteady, and what little she could make out of the doctors’ words did not help soothe her anxiety any.

Dirk was in some other room, being treated for a broken leg, a days-old concussion, and general exhaustion. He’d apparently passed out shortly after they all arrived here. Dave had been unconscious even before then.

Probably the most frustrating piece of all of this was how, now, after they’d finally been able to do something, they were right back to being helpless.

Desperate for some conversation, something to pass the time as they waited for something to happen — it had been over an hour, now, just sitting out here, waiting — she tugged the first loose thread she could find in her memory and dragged it into the open.

“So. Ravens, huh?”

Mom snorted. “You’re waiting until now to ask about that?”

“I was focused on other things on the way over, in my defense,” said Rose, “But, really, you can’t just leave something like that in front of me and not expect to clarify. What did you mean when you said that Aunt Ramona usually uses ravens? You hardly seemed surprised at all that our guide wasn’t human, and you responded so cryptically. Please, mother, the curiosity is killing me.”

“Ha. Okay, you’ll have to forgive me a little, I’m really not sure of the specifics,” Mom sighed, rubbing a hand over her eyes, “But my understanding is that a part of the family magic is that…you just. Get to be friends with a particular kind of bird. Our mom could get those little, uh, sparrows? Finches? Y’know, the little brown birds you see everywhere, she’d just hold a hand out at one and it’d come land on her finger. We had an uncle who could not get seagulls to leave him alone ever. And Ramona has ravens.”

“Really?” Rose said, perking up a little. It was an interesting topic, albeit one she felt a bit bitter at not learning about before now, but it also made for an excellent distraction from the worrying sounds coming from behind the door.

“Yeah. She actually used them as scouts during the invasion, too,” Mom said, sinking back in her chair. “I dunno how exactly, but she’d call one down, whisper at it, and then it’d…fly off and she’d go real still and quiet for a while, and then it’d come back and she’d just. Know shit.”

“So what kind of bird do you have?” Rose asked.

“The family magic skipped me altogether, honey,” she said, “I don’t have any.”

Rose looked down. “And I suppose if I had some, I’d already know, wouldn’t I? You said before that her powers started kicking in when she was thirteen.”

“Maybe,” Rachel shrugged. “But I mean, you might be a late bloomer. Who knows.”

Conversation fell away again for a moment. The sounds from the room behind them were getting really worrying.

“Dave mentioned at one point that he gets harassed by crows a lot,” Rose said, desperate to break up the silence. “Does that sound like the family magic?”

Rachel laughed. “Oh, God, I bet that’s exactly what it is, poor baby.”

“There was a particular crow he described that perfectly matched the description of the one we followed,” Rose said, “Which is why I…”

—The unsteady, frantic bleeping of the heart monitor had turned into one long, cruel note. Her breath caught in her throat, and something in her chest turned to ice, burning with cold.

(He…wasn’t sure how long he’d been here. Or exactly where ‘here’ was. It felt kind of like he had just suddenly appeared here, and also at the same time like he’d just always been here.

‘Here’ was…probably Texas. He wasn’t sure what city. It was quieter than any city he remembered being in, but he didn’t know of anywhere else with such oppressively hot, heavy air choked with smoke. The world was dyed shades of orange and red and white, distant buildings seeming to shimmer, dissolving and reforming themselves like a mirage or a hologram projected onto smoke. The building he was standing on seemed only marginally more solid. Sure, he was standing on it, but thick clouds of dust or smoke constantly floated off of it. It felt like the heat was causing everything to boil, almost.

Still, it was…kind of eerie. The place should have been full of sounds. Distant cars, maybe a siren or two, some guy below swearing at someone for cutting him off, but…nothing. It was completely silent. Nothing seemed like it was moving, except for the smoke, and even that was so slow it barely seemed to move at all.

Something, he wasn’t sure what, drew him to the edge. Peering over the side of the building, he looked down. He couldn’t see the ground. Just a whole lot of a strange, dark mist. It looked…cool, and inviting, almost seeming to whisper promises of rest, and…

God, he was so tired. Exhaustion was weighing on him, dragging him down, making the call of that mist below all the more tempting. He just wanted to rest, please, fuck, he couldn’t even remember what he’d been doing before but he was so tired…

Easy there, Junior, there’s no coming back if y’go that way.

There was the sound of fluttering wings. Dave heaved a sigh, even before turning around. “Of course,” he said, “Of fucking course the king of brainless feathery assholes is here. Can’t ever fucking escape for a Goddamn moment, can I. Nope, only living being for miles besides me is this motherfucker.”

I mean, “living” might be stretchin’ it just a bit, all things considered.

That…hm. He’d thought these were his own thoughts, but…He turned his head. There was another part of the building he was on that stood out a lot higher, and there he was, perched with his legs hanging over the edge, looking down at Dave with a relaxed if sorta sad smile.

Seriously though, he said, and if Dave wasn’t watching the guy’s mouth move, he’d have thought the words were coming from his own head — they weren’t sound, exactly, the kid’s mouth just moved and words seemed to appear — you should step away from there. I know shit’s tempting, but trust me, if you go down there, you’re gonna be stuck looking like that forever. I mean, look at me. I never even got my fuckin’ shoe back. He gestured angrily at his feet, one of which was indeed in only a sock. It’s fuckin’ bullshit. And, uh, no offense, but you look like shit, Junior, you really don’t wanna get stuck lookin’ like that for eternity.

Dave glanced back down at the mist, then back up at the kid. “I’m so tired,” he said.

I know, believe me, I remember that part. But ya gotta trust me here. You gotta keep fighting a little bit longer, okay? I didn’t have a fuckin’ chance, but you still do. If not for yourself, then for all the people waiting for you on the flipside, huh?

Sighing, Dave took his foot away from the ledge and backed up several steps, turning to face the kid before dropping down heavily onto his ass. Fine. If he couldn’t sleep yet, he was at least going to sit the fuck down.

There y’go, Junior. We got this.

“Aren’t you a little young to be calling me Junior?” Dave shot.

The kid jerked back with a snort of laughter. Motherfucker, it was my name first! Anyway, I’d be plenty older than you if I hadn’t, uh, y’know. He gestured at the ragged slashes torn through both layers of clothing on his chest. Point is, I can call you Junior all I damn well wanna, fuckin’ deal with it and respect your elders or whatever.

“Hah,” Dave huffed. He looked around. “So. Any idea where the fuck we are?”

It’s not really a ‘where,’ exactly? It’s like…A border, I guess? I mean, that’s what I think it is, yours looks super different from what mine looked like. And also because this shit doesn’t come with any fucking explanation, honestly, so I have no idea if I’m right or wrong about any of this, but I think it’s like…a crossroads, sorta, between being alive and being dead.

Dave blinked.

“Oh.”

Shit, yours would be buildings, though, wouldn’t it? Kinda predictable, there, Junior.

“I’m dying.”

The kid winced. I mean, you might be, he said, rubbing his hand underneath the backwards rim of his hat. Like, your heart’s definitely stopped right now, but there’s actually a nonzero chance of you pulling through.

“And…why’re you here, then?”

He grinned. Well, for starters, I’m not gonna pass up what might be my only chance of finally getting to talk to ya without you thinkin’ I’m your own fuckin’ brain. God, do you have any idea how fuckin’ boring it is to pass seventeen years with no one able to hear you? Except Ramona, apparently, but I literally found out she could hear and see me, like, today, and thank fuck because she’s the entire reason I was able to get Ray’s help to save your ass. But, uh, also, I’m stalling.

Dave tilted his head. “Stallin’ for what?”

For the doctors tryin’ get your heart goin’ again. Like, I’m pretty sure time moves way the fuck faster in here than it does outside, and this whole conversation’s happened over the course of about a minute or so out in real time, but, still. Y’know. Tell you not to go into the light, except in this case it’s some sorta weird smokey shit, but, same difference. Give ‘em time to fuckin’ bring you back around so you’re not stuck lookin’ like you picked a fight with five flamethrowers and a steamroller for the rest of your fuckin’ existence.

Pulling a face, he plucked at his shirt. Yeah, this shit was beyond ruined, fuck, all black and brown and twisted up. “I really do look like shit, don’t I?”

Yeah, man, it’s pretty — A tremor rocked the building, abruptly. Both Dave and the ghost looked down.

Shit, said the kid, that can’t be good.

Another tremor, this one filling the air with the sounds of stone grinding and breaking. Cracks formed all along the building. Dave struggled to his feet, only to nearly lose his balance again as the stone beneath his feet began to crumble away and fall.

Fuck, Junior — hold on!

The earth was giving way beneath him, he was falling. Smoke and dust threatened to cloud his lungs.

The sound of flapping wings filled the air again, and a massive shadow fell over him, huge black feathers surrounding him as clawed feet reached out to catch him —)

Dave’s eyes shot open as he gasped for an agonizing breath. It was too bright in here, fuck, what the fuck was beeping, where was he, fuck, everything HURT —

“Easy there, son, easy, welcome back,” said a voice. Two hands, one on his shoulder and  one just below his ribs, pressed him gently back onto clean fabrics. His eyes tried to focus — two white clad figures were leaning over him, one a human woman, one a troll that was probably a guy. Doctors? Fuck, his side hurt, his throat hurt, his lungs were screaming, fuck.

“Try to stay with us, okay?” The human woman was saying. “Don’t try to talk, just try to stay conscious as long as you can. We’re gonna patch you up, maybe put you on a ventilator.”

—Hang in there, Junior, I dunno how many more of those either you or me has left in us.

There were tears running down his face. He didn’t even realize he was crying, but they were there. The doctors were back to talking to each other, frantically doing…something, sometimes they’d be touching him, he couldn’t…he was so tired………

Even as the beeping started up again, even as she heard one of the doctors say, “It’s alright, he’s just unconscious this time,” the frozen thing in Rose’s chest refused to thaw out.

“Oh, God,” Mom whispered, her voice hoarse. “Oh, God, they almost lost him.”

Sometime after three in the morning, one of the doctors came and quietly told Rachel that Dave was stable.

She and Rose had moved over to Dirk’s room, where he was sound asleep, poor thing. They’d gotten the gel outta his hair, at least, it looked like, and he didn’t have the makeshift bandage wrapped around his face anymore. Still stuck with a bit of a beard, though, which was bizarre to see and, knowing him, was probably pissing him off.

Rose was asleep, too, her head pillowed on her arms, leaned over onto Dirk’s bed. She had gone…real quiet after Dave had…

Had flatlined. She had to force herself to actually think the word. He’d flatlined. It’d only been a minute and a half — felt a lot fuckin’ longer — but he’d been gone for a moment there. This really was that bad.

Dirk, too, God, Derek had been standing over both of them, ready to fucking — to fucking skewer them both.

She didn’t want to think about it. Every instinct of the past ten, hell, the past seventeen years screamed at her to ignore it, put up the walls, reach for the booze she didn’t have on her for once and drown out the things she didn’t want to be real.  

But. Ignoring it was how she’d gotten into this mess, wasn’t it.

She’d pretended it hadn’t existed and drowned it all in alcohol and hadn’t seen that her kids fuckin’ needed her until they were dying.

“Ray, girl,” she said to herself, “You gotta get your shit together and do better.”

There was a blanket laid down on the end of the bed; she picked it up and draped it gently over Rose’s shoulders, kissed both her kids on the forehead, and headed down the hall to Dave’s room.

The doctor’d warned her he was still unconscious and on life support, but, God, seeing her baby passed out with a tube down his throat, hooked up to a gently bleeping machine and covered in bruises…

She didn’t let herself look away, though. Not anymore.

No more trying to live in a memory. She needed to be here now.

She pulled a chair up to his side. She couldn’t go back and take away all the hurt that’d been done, but at the very least, she could keep a vigil until morning, so that if, by some chance, he woke up, he wouldn’t be alone. In all likelihood, she wasn’t going to be able to sleep, anyway.

Well, they’d all somehow survived Dave’s insane escape plan, somehow (although Dirk hadn’t been able to see him just yet, and what he’d heard from a nurse had been…concerning), and yet, freshly showered with no small amount of effort, Dirk found himself faced with his hardest task yet: finally shaving off the fucking forest that had taken root on his damn face.

He glared down at his hands, pressed against the counter of the little bathroom he’d been guided into and to the plastic razor next to them, willing all three to fucking cooperate already. He hadn’t waited this long to finally get this shit off his face only for his nerves to stop him.

(They were particularly determined nerves, though. The nurse had said Dave was finally stabilized at three in the morning, how bad was he if it had taken that long…? That awful, broken scream kept ringing in his ears, over and over…)

He nearly jumped at a knock on the door. Rose’s voice came through; they’d both agreed to go in to see Dave together once they’d both eaten (already done) and gotten cleaned up (Rose had already finished that; Dirk had gone second since the new cast on his leg meant he was sort of doomed to take longer). “Are you alright in there?” she said. “I’ve already got one brother in need of intensive care. At this point, it’d be a cruel joke to wind up with two because you managed to slip and fall.”

“I’m already out of the shower and dressed,” Dirk said. “Just, uh, having a bit of a shaving malfunction.”

Rose tipped the door open (left unlocked on the doctors’ orders, just in case Dirk really had slipped and fallen) and glanced in. “What sort of malfunction?” she asked, a tired amusement twinkling in her eyes.

Dirk held up one of his hands so she could see how badly they were shaking. “Think my blood sugar might still be low,” he said. It…wasn’t entirely a lie. He and Dave hadn’t had much food the past four days, so that could certainly be a part of it.

Her face softened. “Do you need some help with that?” she asked.

Dirk sighed. God, it was embarrassing, but they’d be here all day if he tried to wait for his hands to stop shaking, so. “Yes please.”

It was awkward as hell, and needing help for something as simple as fucking shaving felt like one last insult on top of the hell that had been the past several days. But at the very least, it felt good to have his face back. He thanked Rose, thanked her again when she helped him up from where he’d been sitting and onto the crutches he’d been given.

They shared a look full of an unspoken, mutual apprehension before heading toward Dave’s room.

Mom, in a chair by the bed and looking exhausted, was talking with Terezi in hushed tones when they entered the room. Both girls looked up, and Terezi said something quietly to Mom before brushing past them both, granting them a sympathetic nod as she passed.

Dave had a blanket over most of him, tucked under his arms and pulled up to his chest. What little of him was visible beyond the blanket was a mess of wires, tubes, and bandages that made Dirk’s breath twist painfully in his throat.

Mom smiled, her eyes heavy and a little bloodshot. “The doctors said they don’t know when he’ll wake up,” she said, “But that he’s at least not technically in a coma or anything. Just really exhausted, poor bugger. Whole lotta years of not getting enough to eat combined with the shit you two’ve been through this past few days all caught up to him at once.”

Rose was silent as she drifted across the room to Dave’s side, opposite their mother. She pressed clenched fists against the mattress, focus fixed on her twin, although Dirk couldn’t see her eyes from here.

Dirk forced himself to look away, turned to Mom instead. “Did you sleep at all last night?” he asked.

“Uh-uh,” Mom said, shaking her head. “Couldn’t. Wanted to make sure Dave wasn’t alone, anyway, so it worked out.”

Dirk swallowed. “Well, he won’t be alone now, either,” he said. “Me and Rose can take turns watching him if Terezi needs to question us, and if not, we’ll just…both hang out in here, I guess. You should get some rest.”

“Probably,” Mom said. “Terezi’s not quite done talking to me, though, she’s just giving us some time alone. She made a lotta arrests last night, though, it sounds like. That dragon of hers got a buncha treats.”

“Good,” Dirk said, not trying to keep the contempt out of his voice. “I hope those bastards fucking rot. They were all nearly as bad as the old man.”

“Speaking of,” Mom said, “I’m pretty sure he got away.”

Rose stiffened.

“Figures,” Dirk muttered. “Really, though, Mom, we’re fine, you should finish up with Terezi and get some sleep.”

“You sure?” she said, glancing at Rose.

“We’re fine,” Rose said, her voice flat.

“…Alright, I can take a hint,” Mom said. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

Silence hung over the room as she left. Tightening his hold on the crutches and forcing a deep breath, Dirk limped across to stand near where Mom had been, across from Rose. She hadn’t moved, but this close, Dirk could see that her arms were trembling.

Dave’s face, at least, didn’t look particularly troubled, if one were to look past the bruises and bandages.

Rose’s hands tightened on the sheets. Her voice was cold and calm, her face hidden to Dirk by her bangs as she stared down at her clenched fists. She spoke with a certainty that would have chilled Dirk to the bone had he not  been just as furious.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” she said.

Unsure whether to reach out to comfort her, or if he should indeed respond at all, Dirk simply nodded.

The two settled in to wait, for however long it might take.

Dave didn’t wake up that day at all. Eventually, the doctors insisted that Dirk go to bed, as he needed to rest his concussion or some shit like that. Rose was watching over Dave alone when the machine Dave was hooked up to began screeching, and the doctors chased her out of the room. The commotion woke both Dirk and Mom, all three family members clustered worried around the door.

Not long after, one of the doctors came out and told them that Dave had briefly regained consciousness, for only a few minutes; he’d been desperate to speak, and panicked upon being unable to do so due to the breathing tube down his throat, so they’d taken him off the ventilator.  His breathing had been fine enough without it that they’d kept it off, in case he awoke again later and the same thing happened.

Apparently, he’d stayed conscious only long enough to ask if Dirk was alright, and had calmed and fallen back asleep as soon as he’d been told that he was okay.

Dirk felt his heart twist itself into knots at the news. Of course he did. Of course the first fucking thing he did was ask if Dirk was okay. Of course even after all this Dave still thought he was the one who had to protect Dirk.

God, he didn’t deserve his little brother.

No one got back to sleep.

Climbing out of sleep felt kinda like he’d imagined snow would feel like, except not as cold, just the parts about it being soft and fluffy and filling everything up around him. And, uh, climbing up out of actual snow that thick would probably have been terrifying, so there was that too, but this was just…a slow, lethargic crawl out of some sort of thick subconscious pool of…whatever.

The first thing he was sort of aware of was that someone was holding his hand. Not very tightly, and at a kind of awkward angle, but there was someone there. He hoped they were real. He really hoped he wasn’t dreaming anymore. His dreams had been of running through a thick, choking forest of branches that reached out to grab him and hold him back, hunted all the while by some terrible beast he never quite saw, but he somehow knew to be there; a creature too wild to be human, too cruel to be an animal, hungry and angry and relentless.

(Sometimes, he’d heard the distant beating of wings, as well, and somehow, he’d known them to be friendly, trying to lead him to safety. He’d never seen their owner, either.)

The nightmares already were starting to fade out of mind, though; and he dearly hoped this wasn’t another one. Trying to move his fingers at all was a fight and a half, like someone had dumped the pathways between them and his brain full of fuckin’ molasses or something. At first, he could only get them to twitch a bit, but with a bit of an effort, he managed to curl his hand around the other.

The owner was moving, now, suddenly frantic; he tried to stop them, but the hand slipped away. Sound was starting to come back, distant, as if through a thick, impenetrable fog; some strange high pitched  repetitive noise and a lower sound that might be someone speaking. A new hand wrapped around his, their thumb dragging across his knuckles.

It took a bunch of false starts to get his eyes open, sound leaking in more and more strongly — that beeping was fucking annoying, Jesus — and, shit, did he regret getting them open even a little almost immediately. Fuck, it was bright in here. Once he managed to get them like, halfway open, though, a darker shape slowly resolved into a human being — their silhouette was unfamiliar, but something about the face was familiar.

“Hey,” said the guy, an actual word finally managing to filter through the haze, as did the realization as to who was talking. Dirk. It was Dirk, but minus that fuckin’ beard he’d complained so much about, and with his hair down, pulled into a loose bob behind his neck. Dirk was here. Okay. That was either really good, or really bad, probably.

It took even more effort (was there…something around his neck? What the fuck), but he managed to look around a bit, get some stock of their surroundings. Not, like sitting up or anything, he wasn’t sure he wanted to give that a shot just yet, but he could move his eyes around.

“Where t’fuck are we?” he said. His voice was fuckin’ awful, Christ, all strained and quiet and a little bit wheezy. He was breathing fine, at least, but, shit.

“Safehouse,” said Dirk.

Like…like a police safehouse? “We’re alive?” Dave asked, just to make sure, because boy, was he not sure of that one. He felt….like the ghost of pain, like he should’ve been hurting all over, but something was keeping it just barely at bay. “We made it?”

Dirk’s worried smile turned more gentle. “We made it. Your plan worked, Dave, you got us both out of there alive.”

“Fuckin’ sweet,” Dave said, because it was. Holy shit, it had worked.

“Rose went to go get Mom, she’ll be back — right now, actually, by the sound of it,” said Dirk, as the sound of rapid footsteps came  through from outside and the door swung open. Dave would’ve jumped if his body wasn’t currently made of cotton and overcooked spaghetti.

Rose about barreled in, her face probably the closest to actual honestly expressing real fuckin’ emotion besides anger that he’d ever seen. She nearly bowled Dirk over, he had to hobble over to the side and give up his grip on Dave’s hand (moving instead to let his hand rest on Dave’s shoulder). Mom came around the other side of the bed, careful not to disturb the IV tube Dave had just noticed was in his arm (hey there, how long had that been a thing), and pressed one hand against the side of his face.

“Hey, baby,” she cooed, eyes already threatening to fill with tears, “Welcome back.”

Alright. Enough of this laying around shit, he was gonna try and sit up and wake up all the way.

It didn’t work. He didn’t even make it up off the bed, and felt even more tired for his efforts. Like they were all part of one being, Dirk, Rose, and Mom all moved to press his chest down (not that it had gone up any) as Mom said, “Nonono, honey, don’t try to move. Hold on, there’s a doohickey here we can use to get you more upright…” She reached around for something, some sorta box, and pressed a button on it, and, oh, hey, the part of the bed his head was on was tilting up slowly, alright, cool. Dirk kept his hands out to steady Dave the entire time as it lifted up, only pulling away once the bed had stopped moving.

Soon as he did that, Rose stiffened up and surprised Dave by lunging forward, sweeping him into a careful hug around his neck. He felt himself go tense, fuck, it was like when Mom would surprise hug him back at home except it was Rose doing it? Mom got in on the action pretty quick, too, her hands wrapping gently around either side of his face, peppering the side of his head with kisses. For a moment, it was way too much, too overwhelming, and he flashed Dirk a nervous look, he couldn’t move to get away, fuck —

The fear faded pretty quickly, actually, though.

Mom was murmuring soft reassurances in Spanish, weaving them in between kisses. Rose was fucking weeping, he could hear it, she was doing it right in his ear. And that overwhelming wave of panic turned into something warm and soft and safe, and….Fuck it. He sank into it. It was too much, way too much, but it was so fucking nice to feel so fucking loved for a while.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s what it was.

Dirk rubbed gently at Dave’s shoulder, unable to get in on the hug from this angle, but it was plenty for now. Dave let himself lean into Mom, let one of his arms weakly wrap around Rose until she pulled away, trying to compose herself and saying something snarky about how Dave had “certainly taken his sweet time to wake up,” and as soon as she gave him the room, Dirk leaned in for a hug of his own, bumping his head gently against Dave’s, all while the barrage of kisses just kept fuckin’ going.

“We made it,” Dirk whispered, and Dave felt the last bit of tension he hadn’t known he’d been holding slip away.

[bubonickitten]

What are your favourite/most reccomended skyrim mods for someone who's only played vanilla?

Okay, so I went through my Nexus Mods Manager and Steam Workshop mods lists and picked out some of my favorites. (Note that some of them require SKSE.)

General:

ETA: Forgot to mention the Unofficial Skyrim Patch, which is honestly something worth having even if you don’t use mods, because there are a lot of broken quests and glitches even in the vanilla game and this makes it so you encounter less of that. 

SkyUI - Takes a little while to get used to, but once I did, I definitely prefer it to the vanilla UI. Also adds a Mod Configuration Menu (MCM) that a lot of other mods use to toggle different options offered by those mods.

Sounds of Skyrim - There are three: The Wilds, Civilization, and The Dungeons. Adds a ton of new sound effects to the game and lets you toggle which ones you do/don’t want.

Climates of Tamriel - New weather patterns, sounds, lighting, etc.

Run For Your Lives and When Vampires Attack - If you’re tired of unarmored, unarmed NPCs rushing at incredibly lethal creatures and expecting good results.

Better Stealth AI for Followers - Because it’s really annoying when you’re trying to sneak and your follower is carrying a damn torch.

Mods for your convenience:

Detailed Mine Map Markers - Adds the type of ore that can be found in the mine in parenthesis after the mine’s name on the map. VERY convenient.

House Markers - Adds map markers to player homes that are available in the base game.

Return Home Teleport Spells - Adds spellbooks to each of the houses you can get in the main game, plus the Ragged Flagon and Archmage Quarters.

Teleportation Books and Teleportation Books (Dawnguard) - More teleportation spellbooks.

Lock Picking Chalk Marks - I wish I found this mod twelve playthroughs ago. It makes lockpicking a lot more tolerable.

Infinite Gold for Merchants - Gives each merchant 20,000 gold to barter with. Useful if you’re like me and like crafting and stealing and hoarding but then have trouble selling it all without having to travel to five different cities.  

Lightweight Potions and Poisons - Adjusts potion/poison weight to 0.1 instead of 0.5 so you can carry more stuff.

Earring of Unburden Lite - Earring that significantly increases your carry weight. Thank god.

Bandolier Bags and Pouches - If you still need more carry weight (I know I do) and/or love accessorizing.

Stones of Barenziah Quest Markers - If you’ve ever done this quest, you know how useful this would be.

Jiub’s Opus Quest Markers - Why this wasn’t in the base game is beyond me. 

Unread Books Glow - Adds a glow to any books you haven’t read yet (including skill books). Helpful especially if you like collecting things.

Enemies-related mods:

Extended Encounters - The original that I have installed has been taken off Nexus Mods, but apparently there’s a similar one here.

Even More Dragons! - Adds significantly more encounters with dragons - I love it, but it’s hell when you’re still at a low level, so be careful. There are two other versions - More Dragons! (more encounters than usual, but less than Even More Dragons!) and Most Dragons! (which… I tried this one first and it’s great if you feel like fighting four dragons at once outside of a major city and then having to resurrect like 20+ NPCs when the dust settles just so you’re not walking around in a ghost town, but if you just want to casually complete quests without constantly being on fire, I recommend downgrading to More Dragons or Even More Dragons, lmao).

Extra Encounters and Extra Encounters (Dawnguard) - In case you still aren’t satisfied with the sheer number of people, places, and things that want to kill you in Skyrim.

Diverse Dragons Collection - Adds 14 new types of dragons to the game, so while you’re constantly being harassed by dragons, at least you get some variety.

More Enemies - Adds new types of enemies to the game. (Beware the bridge trolls, they’re dicks.)

(This is getting long, so I’ll put the rest under a cut.)

Factions:

Moonlight Tales - Customizable werewolves. Offers different pelt and eye options; a wolfkin alliance option (i.e. if you’re a werewolf, wolves and other werewolves aren’t hostile); and options for involuntary lunar transformations, which adds a new dynamic to the game.

All Thieves Guild Jobs Concurrently - Lets you take one of each type of job from Vex and Delvin simultaneously, which means less trips to and from the Ragged Flagon.

Localized Thieves Guild Jobs - Lets you choose which Hold you want a job for, rather than having it be randomized. Which means less saving and reloading and cursing in order to get a job in that last Hold you haven’t taken over yet. (Not compatible with All Thieves Guild Jobs Concurrently. I’ve tried both and both are good, it just depends on your playstyle which you might prefer.)

Improved Vampirism - Requires Dawnguard.

Aesthetics™:

Enhanced Blood Textures - [chanting] more blood! more blood! more blood!

Pure Waters - Really improves the appearance of rivers, lakes, etc.

Book Covers Skyrim - Adds really nice unique covers to all the books in the vanilla game and DLC.

Lanterns of Skyrim - Adds lanterns along the roads all throughout Skyrim. They turn on automatically when it starts to get dark (iirc you can customize the timing in the MCM).

Shadowmarks - Adds Shadowmarks to player homes. Because the Guild Master lives here.

Skills/Crafting/etc.:

Complete Crafting Overhaul Remade - Exactly what it says on the tin. Also very customizable depending on your specific preferences (requires SkyUI for its MCM feature).

Wintermyst Enchantments - Adds 124 new unique enchantments to the game. FUN.

Smithing Redesigned - Redesign of the smithing skill tree.

Smelting Plus - Melt more stuff.

NPCs:

Hearthfire Multiple Adoptions - Lets you adopt up to 6 kids. You need to couple it with player home mods that allow for 6 kids (there’s a list of compatible mods in the mod description).

Khajiit Child Ma’isha - Adorable Khajiit daughter. Just recently, a dragon was attacking me and she ran over and started wailing on it with a dagger I gave her. I love her. (Supplement with this mod, which lets her wear actual child clothes. Because sometimes with mods that add non-human children, the clothes are glitchy bc the mod uses the adult models of those races that already exist in the game, just… make them smaller, lmao.)  

Adopt Aventus Aretino - Because when he grows up he wants to be an assassin, just like you.

Lucy and Louis - Adoptable vampire children, because why the hell not.

Marriable Serana - Because why isn’t she romanceable already? (+ Hearthfire addon, to allow her to move into homes added by the Hearthfire DLC.)

Khajiit Black Market - Adds black market merchants to taverns across Skyrim. They sell useful stuff like spellbooks, all kinds of soul gems, rarer alchemy ingredients (e.g. nirnroot, daedra hearts), etc. - and, of course, skooma and moon sugar.

Kidmer - Adds a bunch of adoptable mer children to the game. Because it’s weird that only human children exist in Skyrim.

Beast Kids - Adds Argonian and Khajiit children to the game.

Adopt Beast Kids - More Argonian and Khajiit children, but adoptable.

Dominions More Khajiit - Just adds more Khajiit NPCs throughout Skyrim (and not just enemies - they’re NPCs with specific names and present in different factions, e.g. in the Companions and Dark Brotherhood).

Dovahbit of Caerbannog - Super cute immortal bunny follower that wears tiny helmets and carries all your stuff. Seriously.

Friendly Brynjolf - Makes it so he doesn’t keep blowing you off with the same one-liner after completing the main Thieves Guild questline. Also makes him marriable.

Quests:

The Paarthurnax Dilemma - Makes it so you can say “fuck off, I’m not killing the penitent dragon, he’s just minding his business on top of his mountain and talking at clouds” to the Blades and the quest won’t just indefinitely hang around in your quest journal forever because you refuse to kill Paarthurnax because who would want to do that. But also if you do want to kill Paarthurnax for some reason, this mod apparently adds dragons who will defend him from your treachery.

Wyrmstooth - This one adds a whole new region and questlines to the game, but it’s been taken off Nexus (it was the same author as Extended Encounters). I’m mentioning it bc it’s worth knowing about in case it ever gets put back up.

Falskaar - Adds a new region and questlines.

The Forgotten City - This one’s hard to explain so I’ll just say I highly recommend it and give you the description as provided by the mod creator: “a murder mystery investigation set in an ancient underground city. You’ll need to solve it using your wits, and the ability to travel through time. It has a dark, non-linear story in which you’ll interrogate suspects, explore the city and its many secrets, and navigate challenging moral dilemmas. It features multiple endings, an original orchestral score, and professionally voiced dialogue.”

Following Mercer: A Thieves Guild Quest - A short questline that takes place after the main Thieves Guilt questline. You kinda just follow clues to find Mercer’s hiding places for all the loot he stole, and also kick his now-ethereal ass a few more times.

Markarth Undercity - Really cool questline. In case you wanted to spend more time in Markarth, but underground this time.

New Markarth Adventures - Because hell is Markarth.

Helgen Reborn - I literally just installed this one for my newest playthrough so I don’t have much to say about it yet, but it looks interesting. Make sure you don’t have this one active until after you finish “Unbound” (the first quest in the game, where you escape from Helgen) because otherwise you get stuff like this.

Legacy of the Dragonborn - This is a HUGE mod. It adds a museum in Solitude for you to put all of your collectibles (including collectibles from several player-created mods that are either packaged with it or compatible with it), as well as its own questlines.

Moonpath to Elsweyr - Adds a new questline that lets you travel to Elsweyr. Can be a bit glitchy, though - like, in some of my previous playthroughs, it would make all sabre cats in the game invisible, lmao. It’s packaged with Legacy of the Dragonborn if you decide to use that one, and I don’t have the invisible-sabre-cat problem anymore ever since uninstalling the standalone Moonpath to Elsweyr and just using Legacy of the Dragonborn, so ymmv.

Missing Apprentices - This just fixes the unfinished Missing Apprentices quest in the vanilla game.

Armor/weapons/items:

Immersive Armors and Immersive Weapons - Both add a ton of new armor and weapons to the game.

PrivateEye’s Heavy Armory - Adds a ton of new weapons and variety to the game.

More Interesting Loot - What it says on the tin.

LC_Immersive Looting - More loot items, like above.

EK Ring Limiter - Toggle how many rings you want your character to be able to wear at once.

Cloaks of Skyrim - Cloaks! Cloaks everywhere!

Amulets of Skyrim - Now with more amulets!

Konahrik’s Accoutrements - Dragon Priest Armory - This is another one I just added and I’m not far enough along in my playthrough to be able to see any of the content yet, but supposedly it’s pretty good.

The Gray Cowl of Nocturnal - If you’re in for some Oblivion nostalgia.

Skyrim’s Unique Treasures - If you’re the collecting type.

Improved Closefaced Helmets - Better meshes for the closed-face headgear in the game.

Skill Book Overhaul - Adds more skill books to the game. I just added this one yesterday but so far I like it.

Royal Armory - Just added this one yesterday, too. Adds some unique weapons for certain prominent characters.

Unique Weapons Redone - Gives unique weapons actual unique appearances, rather than just looking like common weapons with added enchantments.

Recurve Longbows, Recurve Longbows - Dawnguard, Recurve Longbows - Dragonborn - Add longbows to the game. They do more damage and have a longer range, but the pullback time is longer, so it’s a nice balance. There’s also a really cool longbow you can get once you unlock the Dragonrend shout - it’s basically a longbow with an enchantment that has the same effect as the Dragonrend shout, and it’s great (especially if you have one of those More Dragons mods installed).

Diamond Smithing Collection - A series of mods for craftable gemstone weapons and armor.

Light Armor Hoods - Craftable hoods.

Thieves and Assassins - A Better Rewards and Treasure Mod - Makes it so the loot you find will be more oriented toward thief and assassin characters (light armor, daggers, bows, etc.). Nice if you’re like me and usually play the exact same type of character and have little use for heavy armor or two-handed weapons.

Player homes:

Elysium Estate - My favorite player home mod so far. It’s gorgeous and detailed, has toggle-able displays for unique items (Thieves Guild quest items, dragon claws, dragon priest masks, Daedric artifacts, etc.), a guest house for followers outside, planters outside for planting your own garden, tons of storage for specific items, a lot of bookshelves, a bunch of crafting stations in the basement (Skyforge/smelter/grindstone/workbench, alchemy and enchanting tables), its own cow and goat and chickens (they have names any everything and they’re coded as necessary NPCs, so you don’t have to worry about the constantly-spawning dragon in that area killing them). There’s a cute little backstory (it belonged to a gardener who worshiped Kynareth and is passing it on to the next worthy person) but there’s no quest to get it, you just have to read a note on the front door and find the key, so you can basically access it in the very beginning of the game. It’s also compatible with Hearthfire multiple adoptions, so there’s an option for six children’s beds.

Breezehome FullyUpgradable - This is my second-favorite player home mod, and it was my go-to before I found Elysium Estate. It adds a lot more storage, displays, etc., but my favorite thing about it was that it added a basement area with a library, a secret entrance accessible from a cave outside Whiterun, and crafting stations with autochests. Basically, when you access a specific storage container (smithing chest, alchemy ingredient bag, etc.) it automatically scans your inventory and gives you an option to automatically empty all applicable items into that container, rather than having to go through and put away each item yourself. It’s also hooked up to the crafting stations - so if you activate the forge/workbench/grindstone, it automatically adds everything from the smithing chest to your inventory, and then automatically puts it all back when you’re done. It’s pretty convenient.

Khajiit-related mods:

I basically always play a Khajiit, so I have a lot of mods specific to beast races.

Amazing Race Tweaks - Khajiit - Different passive race abilities for Khajiit. I also have this supplemental mod installed to cancel out the jumping bonus - jumping very high is fun but it takes twice as long to come back down and that was annoying for my impatient ass. (Amazing Race is a series btw, there are versions for other races besides Khajiit.) Also check out Passive Race Abilities.

Khajiit Speak - Complete Dialogue Overhaul - Makes playing as a Khajiit a LOT more immersive. It changes your dialogue choices to match the dialect of the rest of the Khajiit in the game (e.g. use of the third-person rather than the first-person), and also adds Khajiit-specific bits of lore (e.g. using the Khajiit names for the various gods). Also, lots of sarcasm - it’s pretty great.

Khajiit Ears Show - Headgear doesn’t hide the kitty ears. This is a TES5Edit script so it requires you to use that. I honestly have no clue what I’m doing with TES5Edit but I followed the instructions in the mod description and somehow got it to work, so… 

Coverkhajiits - More high res textures for Khajiit.

Digitigrade Beast Races - Gives Khajiit proper paws for feet. Also gives Argonians raptor feet. Compatible with the armor in the main game and DLC, but not always compatible with new armor from other mods.

Better Claws and Gauntlets - Actually see the claws on Argonians and Khajiit. Like above, not always compatible with armor added by other mods. And if you’re not wearing gauntlets, the claws usually don’t show.

Dawnguard Glowing Vampire Eye Fix - Lets Orc, Argonian, and Khajiit vampires have glowy vampire eyes.

Beast Skeletons - Adds Mer, Khajiit, and Argonian skulls and skeletons. Because it gets boring seeing only human skeletons everywhere. (It’s mostly lore-friendly, so you won’t come across a bunch of nonhuman skeletons in the ancient Nord burial sites or anything like that.)

[caepaecaesurae]

> Cae : Talk about Friendship

> Fuck, this conversation with Mituna was going incredibly and abruptly poorly.  You could really use a distraction.  And when you see Tyfora on your dashboard, posting about a recently-finished event . . .

> You at least briefly have the decency to consider the fact that she abused her Captor.  Your Peixes tortured your Captor, to whom you are currently speaking.  You are at least slightly mad about that, in Tyfora’s direction!

> It doesn’t last long.  Fuck it.  No one will ever know you had both conversations simultaneously, and it really will be nice to have someone to talk to who really, really does understand.

Today at 12:51 AM caepaecaesurae You knowv that feeling, wvhen you're accidentally nice to someone using some perspectivwe you'vwe gained, and someone you wvere an ass to Before you got that perspectivwe calls you on all the time before that . . . sugary-empress You know I do, dear~ T)(at's some relatable content rig)(t t)(ere~

caepaecaesurae Havwe fun storming the metaphorical castle? sugary-empress Na)(, I kept remembering I could actually for realsies die, it t)(rew me off my game~ But Xant)(e is fixed now forever so stuff will go back to normal!!!~ caepaecaesurae I'm sorry that risk is horrid, but you havwe my respect for facing it anywvays. I'm glad he'll havwe an easier time, nowv. sugary-empress Nbd, mortals do it literally constantly I guess~ Yea)(, me too!~ I'm a fan of t)(at buoy~ sugary-empress Do you sink somefin counts as selfis)( if you're only doing it becod you've got feelings for t)(e subject of your generosity, but you're NAUT~ expecting or even wanting t)(ose feelings to be reciprocated becod of your actions?~ caepaecaesurae I'd say it's self-interested, but not selfish.  It's not manipulativwe. It sounds more like the wvay a manipulativwe or logically-minded troll wvould describe friendship. To rephrase, you're doing it because you like him and wvant him to do wvell. sugary-empress Idk, I'm really bad at determining w)(ic)( feelings are standard issue and w)(ic)( are evil and wrong~ Yea)(!~ caepaecaesurae Entirely reasonable, that.  And a good reason to havwe friends that are familiar wvith that boundary region, to help. sugary-empress You're entirely correct, as usual, my dear~ )(ow would you define fronds)(ip?~ caepaecaesurae In general, or the wvay I do it? sugary-empress )(it me up wit)( bot)(, babe~ caepaecaesurae Ah, best of both wvorlds. caepaecaesurae ...I don't knowv.  I think people experience fondness for eachother.  They see some spark in another person, some shared perspectivwe, something to aspire towvards, to help guide, or to collude wvith and enjoy. People are social, they enjoy one another, and they lean naturally towvards those that havwe some sort of emotional tie like that. If you find yourself happy and laughing most of the time wvhen around another troll, is it not natural to seek them out and spend more of your time around them? ...and so, trolls group together wvith those they see as like themselves, or appealing. caepaecaesurae Particularly since most quadrants and some non-quadrant relationships tend to evwolvwe out of friendships -- it's a source of future prospects, or a comfortable place for those wvho didn't Quite make it all the wvay, but are still appealing enough to maintain ties wvith. Trolls need shared opinions, and the positivwe and negativwe regard of others.  ..So, they find it amongst their friends. caepaecaesurae Most trolls don't think about it much.  They decide some trolls are Good And Theirs, and evweryone else is evweryone else.  They are vwery, vwery hesitant to allowv anyone into their circle, if that person has any traits they find concerning. I... find vwalue in a wvide and vwaried clade, and especially in those opinions most different from my owvn.  They are interesting for their owvn sake, and it keeps my mind sharp to adjust from one mode to another. caepaecaesurae To be a highblood among highbloods in one tab, and a casteless troll in another. caepaecaesurae The trolls wvhose friends are Good And Theirs tend to be those wvho wvill do things for their clade wvithout asking any questions, or attempting to assess if their friend's goals match their owvn.  Hence the hesitance to havwe friends of conflicting goals. Those wvho vwalue vwariety -- or are used to existing among cutthroat scum-suckers they hate -- can't afford that. There's a bit of a correlation betwveen high vws lowv caste, wvhen it comes to wvhere one does their quality control as far as heping friends goes. caepaecaesurae WVhether self-interested, manipulativwe, wvhole-hearted, or lacking in introspection, I think it's more than reasonable to need other trolls for the sake of their wvords alone, and to safeguard them exclusivwely so they can continue doing wvhatevwer it is they do. ... Sorry for howv long that wvent. sugary-empress Sugar, I asked you for a reason~ If I absolutely needed brevity, I woulda gone elsew)(ere~ 38) sugary-empress I always appreciate reading your stuff like t)(is!~ It's super neat~ You )(ave views on emotions I suspect deviate substantially from t)(e norm, but you're able to explain stuff in a co)(erent fas)(ion~ caepaecaesurae I knowv mine devwiate significantly from the norm, I had to learn howv people wvork through observwation. I wvas... less than observwant, for most of my youth. sugary-empress Lmao~ Same, I joined alp)(a society w)(en I was less t)(an ten t)(ousand sweeps old~ Culture s)(ock was wild~ sugary-empress I may not feel anyfin but incandescent joy, plus occasional anger, but apparently it's unsettling to not express otter emoceans~ caepaecaesurae It can be. caepaecaesurae Trolls are wvary about things they don't intuitivwely grasp, anything that does not act howv they expect. Particularly if it is another troll, acting off-kilter. sugary-empress Quite so~ It some)(ow got to be two in t)(e afternoon wit)(out me attempting to sleep, I'm gonna go do t)(at now~ caepaecaesurae Pardon the sudden message, Empress Thank you for your time as alwvays sugary-empress I love getting messages from you, sweetfins~ Good day!~ 38* caepaecaesurae Light

[methodicalauxilium]

Darkleer ==> Inquire about the stars, the helm, and D&D

methodicalauxilium »- May I ask you something? ->

palteringcecutiency Good evening, Darkleer. You can always ask, but whether I answer is the important part. c:

methodicalauxilium »- I was just curious how you perceived the stars ->

palteringcecutiency ...ah.

methodicalauxilium »- If it is not too invasive a question ->

palteringcecutiency It is not, just... unexpected. Most choose to distance themselves from what it is like to be a helmsman, for quite understandable reasons.

methodicalauxilium »- Understandable -> »- But I just wanted to know how you felt about them -> »- If you ever imagined constellations, in the endless shifting void in space -> »- Or if they were just coordinates, and numbers -> »- I have never been to space, e%cept when I visited Vriska or Nadaya, so I have very little idea of what it is like ->

palteringcecutiency ...I miss them, mostly. It is beautiful out there, though it is hard to see sometimes, with the endless black between. I imagine I had a better time experiencing it as I had more sensors than just visible light, the black is not so black as one might think, but there was still beauty that regular trolls could experience. Photographs do not capture the intensity of a solar flare, for example, as actually being there, or at least in its system.

methodicalauxilium »- Photography rarely does a subject justice without proper composition -> »- I can imagine it'd be quite beautiful, I wish I had some way to view it ->

palteringcecutiency I've seen a few that remind me of what it's like, but they are few and far between. I can hardly recommend the way I got there, but I imagine asking Nadaya for a favor would be plausible.

methodicalauxilium »- Perhaps -> »- It is good to know that there was some beauty to your situation -> »- I can't even imagine how it must have been like to e%perience a solar flare that viscerally -> »- But it sounds lovely ->

palteringcecutiency ...there was a lot of beauty, drowned out by... everything else, but there is nothing like being a ship, to have the universe at your fingertips, to contain that much power, to see beyond horizons... I miss it a dangerous amount, and will likely never reclaim it, but I hold the memories close.

methodicalauxilium »- I imagine it's hard to separate one thing from the other -> »- But even still, it is good there is good to be found -> »- And I wish I c001d help you recapture some of that beauty, in some way ->

palteringcecutiency Some nights it's easier than others. ...some nights the separation makes things worse. Hah. I would not trust myself with such a gift, I want it far too much, at the expense of too much.

methodicalauxilium »- I see -> »- Perhaps I sh001dn't be contemplating any form of augmentation, then -> »- I imagine the thought c001d be uncomfortable, regardless of the intentions behind it ->

palteringcecutiency ...it could, perhaps, depending on what you mean by 'augmentation.'

methodicalauxilium »- I am not entirely sure yet -> »- Mechanical in nature, neurally linked -> »- In whatever way seemed both convenient and comfortable -> »- It is a set of ideas, nothing more ->

palteringcecutiency ...a set of ideas that have potential, if worked correctly. Especially if you had an alternate power source in play.

methodicalauxilium »- That will be an interesting and amusing challenge -> »- I assume you won't be fond of steam power ->

methodicalauxilium »- Unrelated, and I am sorry for pulling away the conversation to another topic, but -> »- Has Nadaya approached you about playing Dungeons and Dragons with him, Vriska, and Arlequin? ->

palteringcecutiency Curious, he has not. And it is quite alright, though I must say it would be dreadful returning to such energy sources after having the best at my fingertips. c:

methodicalauxilium »- Indeed -> »- Also me, I w001d be on the guest list ->

palteringcecutiency An interesting collection of invites.

methodicalauxilium »- My thoughts e%actly ->

palteringcecutiency Has he said what sparked this? Or is he simply being his usual impulsive self?

methodicalauxilium »- Apparently, 'to have fun' ->

palteringcecutiency And he invited you? Is he aware you are allergic?

methodicalauxilium »- I had assumed so, I have made it abundantly clear -> »- And still, he invites me -> »- It isn't just me who feels this is strange, is it ->

palteringcecutiency It is not, there is certainly something off about that lineup. No matter how you group it, there is always an odd troll out.

methodicalauxilium »- From my perspective, Nadaya is the odd troll out -> »- Three people I tolerate -> »- Out of four ->

palteringcecutiency From mine it is Makara, I cannot imagine why he would want us in the same block if his goal is fun. He being Nadaya in this case, though Makara as well.

methodicalauxilium »- I am baffled -> »- Why w001d Nadaya choose me -> »- I have almost consistently disapproved of him as a concept ->

palteringcecutiency The only reason I can think of is aggressive friendship, though god knows why.

methodicalauxilium »- I don't know what is up -> »- But something definitely is ->

palteringcecutiency I concur. It makes me wonder who exactly came up with... whatever this is.

methodicalauxilium »- Whatever it is, Arlequin is insistent upon me being there -> »- And insistent on it being purely for fun ->

methodicalauxilium »- And also, the fact that, despite the fact Caesurae is quadded with two of the people attending, he is not invited, seems suspicious -> »- Arlequin assumes it is because you are invited ->

palteringcecutiency ...a reasonable assumption, but that only says I am a higher priority than a quadrant, for some reason.

methodicalauxilium »- I am not just being paranoid, then -> »- Also, Arlequin sees nothing wrong with this list -> »- Nothing suspicious ->

palteringcecutiency Curiouser and curiouser.

methodicalauxilium »- When I admitted to some amount of dubiousness, he simply frowned at me and asked why I didn't want to have fun with him ->

methodicalauxilium »- And for some reason, Nadaya Dualscar Ampora was apparently too shy to talk to me -> »- Which is the most unlikely thing I have ever read ->

palteringcecutiency Absolutely clumsy, I am ashamed by proxy. Could they have not gotten a more reasonable story together beforehand?

methodicalauxilium »- Indeed -> »- But what is the truth -> http://pastebin.com/hqyFnPY5

palteringcecutiency I've no idea, but I am rather curious to find out.

methodicalauxilium »- I am as suspicious as I am curious ->

palteringcecutiency As well as I am, especially since Nadaya has shown up to ask me about DnD ever so casually.

methodicalauxilium »- Oh -> »- He was too shy to approach me -> »- But you, however, are perfe%ly fine -> »- This is not me being bitter, this is me being Skeptical ->

palteringcecutiency I do remind that he and I are friends, and have been for a while now. I realize. c: I am raising an eyebrow as well but not a great deal of it.

methodicalauxilium »- Yes, but that smile of yours is deadly, and you dislike his mate so much that, at times, I have almost been tempted to defend him -> »- Also, I w001d be afraid of you before I w001d be afraid of me ->

palteringcecutiency c: Perhaps a familiar evil is more favorable than an unfamiliar one?

methodicalauxilium »- I refuse to be affected -> »- Perhaps ->

palteringcecutiency It remains suspicious however, no matter his reasonings.

methodicalauxilium »- Indeed ->

palteringcecutiency I believe I am going to participate, once I've spent enough time resisting the idea, if only to see what the end goal is.

methodicalauxilium »- I have yet to a%ually agree -> »- But I am curious enough to go through with making a character and playing at least once ->

palteringcecutiency I as well. c:

methodicalauxilium »- Arlequin described it as recreational algebra, which is the only reason I can see anyone inviting me to this ->

palteringcecutiency He's not wrong, we may even see you enjoy yourself, if briefly. c:

methodicalauxilium »- For a moment -> »- Perhaps ten consecutive seconds ->

palteringcecutiency I will take a camera to record the momentous occasion.

methodicalauxilium »- Will the average person even be able to tell ->

palteringcecutiency I would just have to walk them through it. 'Do you see that twitch in his cheek? That means he is grinning, look how excited he is.'

methodicalauxilium »- Oh, well that w001d take care of that ->

palteringcecutiency It would hardly do to have proof I cannot share. c:

methodicalauxilium »- They may accuse you of doctoring it ->

palteringcecutiency A risk I am willing to take. The truth must be set free.

methodicalauxilium »- First it has to happen ->

palteringcecutiency And I shall be waiting for it. c:

methodicalauxilium »- It may not happen ->

palteringcecutiency Perhaps. But if anything will make it so, it is math. c:

methodicalauxilium »- Logic makes things nice and precise, math is indeed a joy -> »- However I don't know that it is enough to make me smile, all of this is rather simple ->

palteringcecutiency We will just have to see, won't we?

methodicalauxilium »- Apparently so -> »- Maybe we can both get some amusement out of this, in whatever form it takes ->

palteringcecutiency Oh certainly. c:

[monstersofsilence]

Interruptions

It is a quiet evening. Merlee is reading her books, figuring out more of the scythe that's in her possession. She has heard some small stories of it, but never believed them to be true. The red blood merely thought it was a myth. Stories say of a wretched witch that practiced with the most heinous kinds of black magic, able to trick the person's minds in the most wicked ways. It was supposed to be something that someone would tell to wrigglers to make them behave but apparently they are very true.

The down side of it is that she does not have much information about the witch or the power she imbued into the weapon. Merlee knows the scythe has magic, felt it resonating by just touching it, humming almost. Almost as if it's speaking to her. Strange way to describe it, but that's the only way she can describe it. Turning a page of her book, she was startled by the sound of knocking at the front door. Pausing for a moment, she had to think about this for a moment. Whoever it could be knocking can be anyone. Possibly Morrin trying to capture her again. Or... it could be Rowyna. Going to her window, Merlee slightly took a peek to see who it could be. Not Rowyna, but three people. Two trolls and some other being that she has never seen before. They could be another one of Morrin's lackies. She wasn't going to let them capture her alive or dead. She has the element of surprise.

The three people outside, on the other hand, waited patiently for the troll to open the front door. "Are you sure this is the right place, Jaisnt?" The girl said to the blue blood.

"I'm sure this is the place." Jaisnt said. "The database on my computer tracked her down to this hive."

"Maybe it could be wrong."

"It's never wrong. I never make anything that gives me false information."

The girl only sighed softly while the other troll, along with them, just stayed silently and away from them, not wanting to be between with their arguing. Jaisnt was about to knock once more until all three of them began to levitate above the ground and a shield, of some sort, forms around them.

"What the hell is going on?!" The girl screamed as she struggled to go back to the ground.

"Calm down, Alexandra." He said and gestured with his hand. "She knows we are here."

As the three of them floated above the ground inside of a bubble-like shield, Jaisnt turned to the front and see something manifest before him. First came the scythe that he had in his shop, slowly appearing in front him and standing straight along with Merlee as she holds onto the staff of the scythe with an angered expression. "You!" The red blood said. "Who the hell are you? Did your boss, Morrin, sent you here to kill me?!"

"Wh-what? Fuck no." He exclaimed rudely. "And how do you even know him?"

"You fucking tell me, smartass." Merlee returned with another retort.

"Wow..." Alexandra sarcastically said. "Way to go, Jaisnt. Aren't you a lady's man."

"Who are you?" Merlee questioned.

"My name is Alexandra Pyrite. I'm a human from the planet Earth." She answered. "I also happened to be a scientist and is currently stuck here on this planet. Now, would you please put me down!"

Merlee paused for a moment as she thought over the request. After a couple of seconds, she taps the ground with her scythe as the three individuals fall to the ground, but leaving the shield up to keep them encased for cautious reasons. Noticing the third troll, who happened to be quiet, she sensed some unstable energies within her. As if some parts of her isn't fully her. "Who is she?"

Jaisnt turned to the orange blooded troll and then to Merlee. "Her name is Zenira. She's a friend of mine." Zenira merely waved. "She's a mute. Also, that scythe belongs to me."

"No. The scythe belongs to no one."

"What the hell does that supposed to mean?"

Merlee only shook her head in disappointment. "Do you have any idea who wielded this scythe?"

"I'm sure a bunch of people have used it."Jaisnt sarcastically said. "I mean I did just find it, so I could be one of the many people that have-"

"This scythe belonged to a wretched witch." The red blood interrupted. "She was the most evil troll that used the most cruel black magics that has ever existed. Look at the markings on the blade." Merlee turned the scythe to show the strange symbols on the blade. "Magic runes. But ones that the witch knows. This weapon is pure evil and shouldn't be wielded by anyone nevertheless sold at a shop for anyone to buy it off of."

The blue blood stayed silent. He may not be an expert into the supernatural or any kind of magic, but from what the red blood is saying, he has to believe it.

"Um... may I interject?" Alexandra said. "But... what the hell kind of nonsense are you saying? Magic? Really? There's no such thing."

"Really?" Merlee questioned. "How could you explain when you were floating or the shield that's right in front of your eyes?!"

"You have some sort of device underneath us that caused a regularity to activate zero gravity, but the shield here is just keeping us in mid air. Controlled zero gravity. And the shield is the same thing. Underneath and blah blah blah."

"Um, Alex." Jaisnt added. "Magic... is real."

"Jaisnt. Shut up. You're not a scientist. I know what I'm dealing with." The human fired back.

Speechless by Alexandra's remark, he turned to the red blood. "Okay... let's forget about the scythe. Let me ask you a question now. How do you know this... Morrin character."

Merlee stood there, looking at the ground to think on how she can word it properly. It's obvious that these people aren't with Morrin, which means she's in no danger at all. It's fair she can let them in. Having the shield fade off into the sky, the red blood opened the front door. "Come in. I'll tell you what I know." She heads inside and both Jaisnt and Zenira followed.

Meanwhile, Alexandra was a bit cautious about the troll. Especially on the idea of "magic." Perhaps she can humor the troll as she finally walked inside, stopping in front of the living room only to hear the door shut behind her. Turning to look at the door, she was puzzled on how it could close on its own. "Uh... how did that happen? Maybe a draft? Where's a fucking air vent?" She whispered to herself.

As Alexandra was off in her own world, Merlee heads into the kitchen and grabbed some glasses and filled them with water, coming back as she lets the glasses of water float to each individual. "Please. Sit down." Merlee genuinely said and gestured over to the couches. Jaisnt and Zenira did so while Alexandra is continued being puzzled and even more so as a glass of water levitates towards her. Hesitantly, the human grabbed it and sat down on a couch.

"Well... how should I start this..." Merlee stammered. "It was odd on how we... met, perse. Started with a message that was given to me for a party he was attending. It was very sudden for someone, who I never knew, invited me to a party. So I thought, why not? I never been to a party nor met any other people that might have an interest in me to even invite me. I felt... happy at that moment and felt like I was being noticed. Dressed all nice in my suit, I went to his mansion which was filled with many high bloods. Very few low bloods. As I was about to head inside, a blue blood stopped me and walked me inside into the grand hall. Humongous. Like... wealthy big. Very spacious grand hall."

"I pretty much know what you're talking about." Jaisnt interrupt. "Me, Zenira, and my ancestor sorta... infiltrated that place for documents that it may have... sorry to interrupt. Continue."

Shocked by the sudden bit of information that was given to her, she continued her story. "I'll talk to you about that sometime... anyway... um, oh! After a bit I finally met him. I didn't know his name at first, or maybe he told me and I can't remember... it was... uh... um, we talked a bit until I saw someone that was familiar to me that made me scared. He is a yellow blood named Kalios. He-"

"Kalios?!" Jaisnt interrupted once more. "How do you know him?"

"Long story..." Merlee answered. "The moment I saw him, and seeing him interact with Morrin all casual-like as if they have been friends for who knows how long, I became cautious and ran away outside to the front until I was stopped. Kalios... poisoned me a while back... making him have complete control over me with a command from his voice. I tried fighting back, but I fainted. Morrin and I met again for the second time... this time he decided to stop by at the place I work. He has powers... something I never seen before, but seems primitive. He stopped time just to speak with me. I guess he thought I might lash out at him and didn't want to make a scene. I wouldn't want it either... I'll give him credit that he's smart enough to think all this to tell me something."

"What... did this Morrin guy tell you anyway just to do that 'hocus pocus' stuff you're saying he's doing?" Alexandra questioned with arms crossed in front of her chest.

"... He told what he wanted me to know. He knew my ancestor, The Exiled." Merlee answered while giving a glare at the human. She was starting to annoy the red blood. "The Exiled is the greatest mage that has ever been known on this planet. She wasn't known as the Exiled before, she was called The Teacher because she taught wrigglers magic and all that they need to know. Terrible things happened to her and being a slave is one of them. Apparently Morrin's ancestor, The Forcer, sold my ancestor to a royal sea dweller and they used her like a weapon. Back then, people feared magic users because of what they don't understand. The Exiled was one they needed to fear. She was powerful... but apparently that's not the case. Morrin says that I'm the most powerful mage that has ever existed and wants me. He made a deal with me. If I were to go with him peacefully, he won't have to terrorize me or try to hurt my matesprit. I didn't take his deal. He left and I left work... haven't gone back since then. I wanted to collect my thoughts on the situation. After that... some stuff happened between me and my mate and we sorta... separated... at that point... I didn't know what to do. I wasn't thinking and decided to take care of Morrin myself to stop this insanity for power... and to have peace for my life and my mate's... at least I hoped. I remember going in front of his mansion as he came out and playfully welcomed me. The last thing I remembered was just... anger. Pure rage and everything else was a blur. The last thing I can recollect is hearing a gunshot through the sound of rain that has been pouring for some time. After that, I felt pain and I blacked out. In short... I fucking hate him."

"Shit... that's some heavy stuff." Jaisnt retorted.

"Yeah, maybe sugarcoating it with all the talk with make up magic and stuff." Alexandra sarcastically added.

And with that, a shadow-like creature appeared from the ground and formed its body in front of the human. "You, human, are asking for a death so profound that you'd wish you can solve it with your science!"

Alexandra screamed, flipping over behind the couch and crawled to a corner. "What the fuck is that?! What the ever living fuck is that?!"

"Parasaiya. Stop." Merlee commanded.

"This human is trying my patience and her rudeness is not tolerable or acceptable." The creature spoke.

"Who the hell is he?" Jaisnt added as he cowered back into the couch. "What the hell is he?"

"My apologies." Merlee said. "This is Parasaiya. He's a shadow creature that was created by my ancestor. He lives within me... or at least taking residence within my mind. He sees and hears everything I see and hear. That and also he can manifest with anyone's shadow."

"Why did she create him?" Jaisnt questioned.

"During the time my ancestor was held prisoner, and kept as a secret weapon for the royal highness, she felt alone and decided to create a being with her magic." Merlee explained. "

"ENOUGH WITH THE MAGIC TALK!" Alexandra screamed. "There's. No. Such. Thing!"

"You, girl, are the most ignorant being I have ever had the pleasure meeting." Parasaiya yelled as his formed frizzed all over, almost wanting to envelop the room in darkness.

"You're a fucking hologram! You cannot hurt me, you outdated piece of machinery!"

"ENOUGH!" Merlee yelled. "Parasaiya. Go away."

"But Merlee!" It begged.

"Stop. I dislike her, too. Just go." Parasiaya merely looked at Merlee as it calmed itself, retracting itself to its normal form and floating down into the ground from a shadow that belonged to Zenira. "Miss, Pyrite. I don't care if you believe in magic or not, but I have four words for you: shut the fuck up. Otherwise, I will make you believe in magic the hard way and so help me, you do not want to even experience it. Now, be a good girl and be quiet."

Alexandra slowly got up from her corner, rolling her eyes and sat back down on the couch, glancing around her as she's cautious.

"Well... this is something." Jaisnt awkwardly said. "So... I'm gonna guess that the whole story you said was it... right?"

"Yes. That's the whole story of what I know about Morrin."

"I have much more information on him, but that will be saved for another time. Um... also... sorry about intruding you about the whole... uh... yeah. I'll forget about that. I don't deal with the whole magic stuff." Jaisnt said, slowly turning to Alexandra as she only scoffed at him.

"It is alright. "

"So... maybe we can help each other. Morrin happen to also be our main subject because of the things we're afraid he might do."

"I'd be glad to join in, but only if you need me. I have more important things to do at the moment. I've been busy looking for information on the scythe and its inventor, the witch. Among other things, I've also been searching for my mate... but that's personal for me."

"Understandable. Thank you miss...?"

"Merlee." She smiled. "Merlee Zodius. Thank you for having this talk with me despite the odd start."

Searching around in his pocket, Jaisnt eventually pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Merlee. "My contact information to get in touch with me. I'm a black and gunsmith. Plus, I am also a robotics expert and weapon specialist. If you ever need me... or if I'll ever need your expertise." Merlee looked at the paper with the information on it and then looked at the blue blood, nodding to him. "Well, see ya. Come on, gang."

Jaisnt headed to the front door, walking out as Alexandra followed, stopping for a moment to turn to look at Merlee only to give out her middle finger at the red blood. Merlee returned the favor with the double middle fingers and grinned as she used her magic to cause Alexandra to fly out of the front door. Hearing a scream, Merlee couldn't help but giggle only to stop to see Zenira in front of her face. "Oh, Zenira..." She said. "Is something wrong?"

The orange blood only stared at Merlee for a while until giving a toothy smile. For a mute, she seems adorable despite the odd choice of clothing she's wearing. All of a sudden, the orange blood gave a hug and when she did, images flashes before Merlee's mind that she had to pull away from her to recollect what she just saw. Zenira was both upset and confused by the reaction. "I'm sorry Zenira..." Merlee apologized. "I... I-I'm sorry..."

The orange blood frowned and walked out the front door. The hive is now empty. Merlee stood where she is to try and figure out what was shown to her until Parasiya came back again to speak. "I hate that human."

Merlee couldn't help but let out a chuckle from that as it distracted her from what she was thinking. "So do I, Para. So do I."