#Reginald Rose Writing

[cinephilesadeqi]

Movie Analysis and Review: "12 Angry Men" (1957)

Introduction:“In the crucible of a sweltering New York City courtroom, ’12 Angry Men’ unfolds the gripping drama of a murder trial, casting a searing spotlight on the human psyche and the quest for justice amidst uncertainty.” Synopsis:“After the prosecution and defense rest their cases, 12 jurors must deliberate the fate of a young man accused of murder. As the tension mounts in the…

[vilandel]

Silver Cats & Black Roses

Chapter 5 – Dinner, Willow & Memories

A/N Bad things in this chapter: A noble that is a pain Good things in this chapter: Our couples are getting closer 💜💙

Ao3 link

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“You’re late.”

“Just by twenty minutes, Prickly Queen.”

Yami knew himself that he was very late, but seeing Charlottes offended face was just worth it. Besides, he did warn her. He was pretty much unable to be on time without Finral and this luckily wasn’t a captains meeting.

But maybe he should have put some efforts and tried more to be on time. Because this talk and this meeting with Charlotte were very important for him. Why? How much? Yami had no idea but it was important to him and that alone mattered. The details were just future Yami’s problem.

Charlotte just sighed in resignation. Probably she wasn’t in the mood to bicker back. Sadly, because Yami really enjoyed bickering with her. But maybe it wasn’t the right time now.

Strange, that would be the first time Yami would feel that way.

“Alright, Yami. Let’s go.”

“’kay.”

The restaurant Charlotte choose was one Yami actually knew. It was the same one she invited him for dinner too, months ago, when he wanted to ask her about her curse while the Black Bulls were investigating devils.

She acted pretty weird that day too, jumping out of a window in her nightgown even before he could ask her about her curse and run through the entire city. Only to invite him for dinner the same day.

What a troublesome woman. Her Ki was very unique, but never did Yami ever had that many difficulties to understand said Ki. Even old Julius was easier to read than Charlotte and that alone means something.

They ordered their meals and got their drinks, tea for Charlotte and of course a good beer for him.

Should Yami have ordered beer, though. After all, he knew very well that Charlotte couldn’t hold her liquor. But it wasn’t like she would take a sip from his beer, although maybe it would have been polite.

Why was he thinking about fricking policy in the first place? He usually never do that!

So, why with Charlotte?

Said woman that awaken some complicated thoughts in him had been awfully quiet since they got in this restaurant. She only raised her voice when it was to order their meals and drinks. But now, Yami was met with silence.

That wasn’t what he came here for in the first place.

But she probably was a bit nervous and unsure as well. She invited him for dinner, despite the fact that she probably couldn’t stand him.

Yami decided to not push her. At least not too much.

Just like that other dinner almost one year ago, she let her hair free, only the tiny braid fell at the side of her face.

Yami liked when she had that hairstyle, even with the braid. He usually didn’t like braids and Nozel just reinforced that fact. But Charlotte, that simple braid in her free falling hair, he liked it. Maybe he should tell her to have her hair more often like that. But given how Charlotte couldn’t stand him, maybe it was better not to. She wouldn’t get that hairstyle anymore if he said that.

“Well, Yami…” Charlotte finally said and Yami felt himself flinch for some reason. Was her opinion of him really that important for him?

Charlotte took a deep breath and finally said, “You should stop thinking that I hate you. It is not the case. I thought you realized that while reading my Ki.”

“Well, to your info, your Ki is very unique and complicated, even for me. And you never miss an occasion to point out how much I got on your nerves.”

“You do, I won’t deny that and I highly doubt that you’ll ever stop. But even though you’re getting on my nerves, it doesn’t mean that I hate you.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! Heavens, what do you need to finally believe it.”

“Just kidding, Prickly Queen. You know how much I love to do that.”

“Of course I do, sadly.”

Charlotte almost looked like she pouted and for some reason, he found that really fricking adorable.

She was a really complicated woman, the most complicated he knew and damn, Yami actually doubted he would ever understand her. But one thing for sure, he didn’t want her out of his life.

“I was sick worried about you and William, when you two got kidnapped by the Dark Triad,” Charlotte continued, twirling her silver spoon in her tea. “Not only because you’re both very valuable and irreplaceable knights for this kingdom, but also for your squads members and because we’re colleagues. Everyone was worried about you, even Nozel was ready to take the Dark Triad to get you and William back. Yami, for the very least you’re respected by us other captains and I… have more than respect for you. You said it yourself, we’ve known each other for years and as captains, we went through a lot, especially those last two years.”

“You can say that out loud.”

“Yes, and… after everything that happened… I don’t want you to continue to think that I hate you. Well, since you couldn’t figure it out with your Ki reading, of course I had to tell you directly, even though you’re stubborn enough to maybe not believe me.”

Why did Yami had the feeling that Charlotte knew him better than many others all of a sudden?

“I’m sorry for every time I hurt your feelings, it wasn’t my intention, it never was. I just think… Well… It’s difficult to say, but… I… I don’t want us to be like it was before the war in Spade. I mean, not entirely… I guess you will never stop getting on my nerves and you will never stop teasing me. I just… well… how can I put it?”

“You want us to be on better terms. Am I right, Prickly Queen?”

“What? Uh, yes. That is one way to put it.”

One way to put it? Yami had no idea what she exactly meant by that. But at least, he got the basis idea of what she wanted to say. Maybe.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t be against us to be on better terms. I mean, you’re a troublesome woman and definitely kinda stick up your ass.”

“Excuse me?”

“But you’re also obviously one of the best knights I’ve ever known, including Asta. And you care more about your squad, your girlies and this kingdom than most people I know. I will definitely continue to tease ya and I’ll admit, I kinda enjoy getting on your nerves. But I guess that something colleagues do and friends too. At least, old kid Julius says that.”

Charlotte just looked at him. She seemed kinda surprised and maybe she wanted to say some more things? Yami really couldn’t tell, but well, no surprise here. Charlotte always had been difficult to read, Ki or not.

After a short while, Charlotte sighed. Somehow resigned and defeated, but also determined? Yami had no idea how to feel about it, but he decided that this would be future Yami’s problem.

“So, if that’s what you wanted to tell me, why did you acted so weird? Especially at my wheels wedding, you were really weird back then, y’know. Still waiting for an explanation for that. Ya wanting to be on better terms with dear old me couldn’t be the only thing bothering you. I have a delicate little heart of glass that’s breaking easily, y’know.”

“Delicate little… Whatever. Well, obviously I didn’t had an easy time since we returned from Spade. You were only part of my worries and not all of them are squad related.”

“Oh?”

Yami didn’t had the time to ask more, as the waiter arrived with their ordered meals. A whole roasted chicken with peas and onion rice for Yami and two roasted egg toast with mild cheese on a salad bed for Charlotte.

For a noble restaurant, this one wasn’t really snobbish and fancy over the food, something Yami really appreciated.

They started eating in silence, enjoying the food. But just as Yami was about to ask Charlotte about the worries she mentioned, some noble asshole appeared at their table.

“Lady Charlotte, what a surprise to see you here! And what a delight too, honestly.”

Yami clenched his fists. He knew it would be bad to attack a noble in a public restaurant, he had to hold back. It wasn’t even about him, Yami was used to be practically ignored when it wasn’t insults.

No, what Yami didn’t liked right there was how this stick-ass noble asshole was talking to Charlotte like she was some kind of fancy prize or a delicate princess that needed sickening sweet words to not break in thousands pieces. She was more than that and she was anything but a fragile little princess.

“Lord Reginald, good evening,” Charlotte just replied politely, taking a sip from her tea.

Reginald, then. Such a stupid fancy name, Yami decided. Reggie would it be then, a stupid nickname for a stupid noble asshole. He bright pink hair with some grey strands, his turquoise eyes looked a bit dull – which was a rare thing to manage with such a bright colour – and everything in Reggies appearance screamed that he tried to look younger than he really was. What a loser.

Still, Yami couldn’t help but admire Charlotte. He could tell that she was upset by this intrusion and yet, she kept her cool, was polite but with a cold distance, clearly showing that she didn’t like Reggies presence. Yami would never been able to put up that act and with such a patience.

A troublesome woman maybe, but surely an amazing one.

Reggie seems taken aback by Charlottes distant attitude, but sadly, it wasn’t enough to get him to walk away.

“I would have loved to talk to you during the royal wedding a few days ago, but sadly, there was never an occasion.”

“No wonder, it was a big ceremony and given my family told me, you were quite busy searching for potential spouse candidates for your children, lord Reginald.”

Did Yami just heard some kind of sarcasm in Charlottes voice? Damn, she really didn’t like Reggie. A small proud smile appeared on Yamis lips.

“Ah, yes, I was. You know, a royal wedding is one of the best occasions to find potential betrothed and since you know, I have twelve children.”

Twelve kiddos? Geez, Yami felt pity for Reggies poor wife.

“Isn’t your oldest daughter already married, though?” Charlotte asked, still cold and distant.

“Yes, my dear Ursula married last year. I was actually worried that she would end up as a spinster, given that she was over thirty when she finally married. But thankfully, she married into house Vitrail and there is good hope that she will give her husband an heir soon. But it doesn’t change the fact that I have eleven other children and most of them are in marital age already. Ah, where does the time fly?”

That sounded so fake that Yami had to take a big sip from his beer in order to hide the face he was making. And Charlotte did the same. Geez, would Reggie leave already?

“But you know, I’m also searching for a wife as well. You know, my dearest Franziska passed away last year and well, you might be aware that widowhood never suited me.”

“Indeed, wasn’t the late lady Franziska your fifth wife, lord Reginald?”

Yami hold up a surprised groan. Does that mean that Reggie was married five fucking times and was now even searching for a sixth little wifey to make him more children. That sounded so fucked up, even for standard nobility. Yami already pitied Reggies future wife number six, whoever that might be.

Wait a minute!

Did Reggie have plans to make Prickly Queen said wife number six?

Those sickening sweet words, his complete ignorance of Yamis presence, the uncomfortable glance he gave Charlotte, as if she was a prize for him to win… Not to mention his snobbish, arrogant Ki.

Yami felt himself boiling. The mere thought of Charlotte married to this piece of crap that was Reggie of house Who Cares made him angrier than the whole thing with William and his ties to the Eye of the Midnight Sun.

Who did Reggie think he was? He wasn’t a Magic Knight, just a mere noble with a typical noble attitude, typical noble daily life and typical noble crap. He was just a fly compared to Charlotte. She suffered from a curse and never let said curse getting to be boss over her life. She was one of the best knights and captains Yami ever knew since he came to Clover, she was a strong and independent woman who doesn’t to be told to surpass her limits, she was doing this on her won. She was not only respected but also loved by her girls and even knights from other squads admired her. She was strong and powerful, she wasn’t afraid to train to get better with her magic. The Blue Roses became a strong and fierce knight squad under her leadership.

Not to mention that Charlotte was as clever as she was beautiful, strong on the battlefield as she was sensible when her knights had problem, she was true to her morals unlike other nobles, she knew who to respect and who not, even though she won’t get herself into an unnecessary fight. She said directly what she thought, was loyal to this kingdom, never looked down on people out her circle. She knew how to help herself in a fight and even got new spells during the war in Spade.

Charlotte Roselei was an amazing woman and Reggie didn’t deserve her, even more since she was certainly just a prize in his dull eyes.

Reggie of course didn’t realized the dark Aura around Yami as he continued with his sickening sweet voice, “You know, your aunt Rosamund talked to me recently. And I have to agree with her, we should talk more, lady Charlotte. Since we met on a nice coincidence, would you mind if I join you?”

Reggie already made attempts to sit down at the table. Yami was this close to dimension slash that bastard into hell.

“As much as your company would be… delightful, lord Reginald, I can’t enjoy it this evening. You surely noticed already that I’m not alone and you’ll understand how impolite it would be to let my dinner partner alone.”

What a satisfaction to see Reggie flinch heavily and finally realizing that Prickly Queen wasn’t alone. Yami could barely hold back a snicker.

“Oh, um… Yami Sukehiro, captain of the Black Bulls. I guess… good evening.”

“Yo, lordy, how’s it going?”

The face Reggie was making was priceless, but Yami still hold back his laughter. Not that he mind to get problems with arrogant nobles, that was practically daily business for him. But Yami didn’t want Charlotte to get troubles.

It was still nice to see how she needed to hold back a smile as well.

“Fine, thank you. May I ask what is your business with lady Charlotte?”

Reggie should better don’t act as if Prickly Queen mattered to him. Yami could tell from his Ki the arrogance of this jerk and the insecurity Reggie wasn’t probably even aware of. Great, he really was a loser without even realizing it.

“This is a professional dinner, lord Reginald. You might be aware that both Yami and I are Magic Knight captains. The Wizard King is very entitled to have the squads work more often together, which is beneficial for the safety of the kingdom. So, of course Yami and I are discussing such matters while having dinner.”

“Ah, yes, of course. I almost forgot that you’re a Magic Knight captain too, lady Charlotte?”

What was that supposed to mean? Yami really wanted to throw a powerful Dimension Slash at Reggie for disrespecting Charlotte. What was wrong anyway with her being a captain, she was one of the best in the whole kingdom of Clover!

And why did Yami felt so protective of his Prickly Queen anyway? He knew first hand that she’s able to handle herself!

Wait… why his Prickly Queen?

“Well, in that case I won’t disturb your… professional dinner any longer. Captain Sukehiro. Lady Charlotte, send me a letter the next time you have some free time on your schedule, I would really love to talk to you once in a while.”

Geez, doesn’t Reggie realize how fricking unsubtle he was right now? What a poopy pants.

“Good evening, lord Reginald.”

Charlotte of course was so calm about this whole scenery. She didn’t even looked at Reggie who somehow finally realized the coldness in her voice and finally got his ass out of here. Well, by Yamis books, he shouldn’t have come here in the first place.

“This… is basically another one of my worries from those last three months,” Charlotte sighed after a minute or two of silence.

“What, is Reggie bothering you? Do you want me to do something about that?”

“What? No, it doesn’t have to do with him specifically. It’s just… You did heard that a lot of betrothals happened and weddings are being planned after we returned from the war in Spade?”

“Yeah, Finral and Noelle said something about anyone freaking out to hook up within nobility. But those two always have a tendency to overreact, so I don’t really care.”

“Well, you’re lucky then. As for me, I can’t just ignore it. My whole family became so determined to finally getting me married since I return from Spade. It was more bearable before, when it was just my mother and some of the nicest aunts to deal with it. But now… Well, even relatives from other houses are suggesting some candidates to me. And lord Reginald Évantail is one of them, of course.”

“Crap. Can’t they just leave you alone? I mean, I don’t know how it works with you higher-ups when it comes to marriage and shit like that, but still. Can’t they let you choose?”

“Sadly, even though arranged marriages aren’t so much anymore like golden cages as they were hundred years ago, they’re still too important in my circles. The more scandals a family has to her name, be it like secrets or official, the more they search marital alliances to put stand better in front of other noble houses. And my family, house Roselei… sadly has a lot of scandals bond to the name.”

“Never knew about that. That’s rough, Prickly Queen. So… since your relatives are on your back like that, you’re one of the best marital candidates of your house?”

“I’m surprised you came to that conclusion, but you’re right.”

“Yeah, I’m not as dense as my brats believe I am.”

“Not so sure about that, but well, I’ll give the benefice of doubt. After all, you’re right. Despite my curse, I’m one of the very few Roseleis with no scandals, which makes me one of the best marital candidates for my house. It is really frustrating, because I don’t want to get married against my will. I love some members of my family, but… I feel really alone on that matter.”

“You’re not alone, Prickly Queen. ‘kay, I don’t know how to help you to not get married away, but I know you. You won’t bent that easily, that much I know. Besides, I’m right behind you, your girlies too and others as well. Heck, I’m sure even Braids would help you to not get wed away. Especially not to a poor loser jerk like Reggie. You won’t be his wife number six and you won’t be the wife of someone who doesn’t value you like you should be.”

“I… thank you, Yami.”

Charlotte smiled. A soft smile, but for some reason, it lit a strong fire in his whole body.

Okay, Yami knew that Charlotte didn’t smile often, but still, his reaction to it was too much.

Why would he react like that anyways?

“Besides, I don’t get why you need to more or less pay for the wrongs other members of your family did, probably even years ago.”

“It’s not logical, I know. And despite what my family believes, a marriage won’t erase like that what they did wrong. But they would rather contradict themselves five times in the same sentence than stop ignoring the consequences of their scandals.”

“Don’t be so worked up about them, it’s not your fault, after all. You shouldn’t care about those scandals.”

“I know that, I know that very well even. Most of them, I can put them behind me very easily. But there’s one… It’s been at the back of my mind for years, even though it’s nothing I can do about it. It… involves my own father.”

“Ouch.”

“Yes. I’ve never told this to anyone.”

“You don’t need to, y’know.”

“I know that. But I also know that I can trust you.”

Why did his heart started to beat furiously when she said that?

“When I was eight or nine years old, my father had an… affair. With a woman from the Common Realm. A child was born from their liaison. That poor woman came one day to the Roselei Villa to speak with my father. I remember what happened that day rather well. Not everything, though, I was so young. My mother wasn’t there, so she never knew. My father probably send her away for that day, for a big shopping trip or something. I don’t recall, but I know that I was supposed to come with her. My father probably counted on it, so that neither or my mother would learn about his mistress and his bastard child.”

“But you didn’t go with your mom.”

“No. I didn’t felt well that day, so my mother went without me. So, I witnessed how my father’s mistress came to the villa and asked to meet my father. She had her baby in her arms and from what I gathered, she begged my father to help her and their child. I think that she was alone, no family to help her out. Otherwise, she probably wouldn’t come and ask my father for help. She didn’t even ask him to elope to some far away place with her or to divorce my mother and marry her instead. She just asked him to help her and to take care of their child. But my father refused, telling her that he couldn’t waste his time on a bastard and such horrible things. My father basically throw that poor woman out and her child with her. I remember how she cried as she left our villa. I felt so bad for her and wanted to give her some comfort. But I was afraid. Afraid that she wouldn’t want my comfort, given that I was the legitimate child and not hers. Also, afraid of my father, for what he would do if he ever learned that I knew. I never heard from that poor woman and her baby since then. And well… you can tell that I lost my affection and trust towards my father since that day.”

“That’s brutal. For that woman and for you, to learn something like that so young. Is that the reason why you don’t trust men most of the time?”

“It is one of the reasons, yes.”

Charlotte sighed and looked outside, where the first lights of dusk started to paint the sky in purple, yellow and dark red.

“I often thought about that woman and her baby. I wish I could have searched for them, giving them the help my father refused them. But I have no idea where to start, I don’t know that woman’s name and I have no idea if I have a half-brother or a half-sister. All I know is that they came from the Common Realm. But who knows if they’re still there today or somewhere else entirely. Be it the Forsaken Realm or another country. Maybe even another continent. And… I am an only child, as you know. But somewhere out there, I have a younger sibling, a brother or a sister and I know nothing about him or her. It pains me, because… I would have loved to know my half-sibling.”

Yami didn’t know what to say. But he could relate, probably more than Charlotte realized. After all, he also had a sibling somewhere out there.

Ichika.

It’s been such a long time since he thought about his younger sister. And even much longer since that fateful day… It wasn’t something Yami liked to think about. It hurt too much, especially since he would never see her again. Which was better for her. Ichika started her life again, like he did in Clover. Yami knew that Ryu took care of his sister and he was certain that Ichika became a strong warrior today. This was at least certain and Yami couldn’t ask for more for her.

But while he had this certainty, Charlotte didn’t had that. She didn’t even know if she had a brother or a sister, she never got the chance to be an older sibling. Yami knew that she would be a great sister. The way she takes care of her own squad was enough proof.

He knew he wouldn’t see Ichika again. But Charlotte… there was a slight chance that she would met that mysterious sibling one day and maybe have a bond with that person.

Yami softly put a hand on hers. Charlotte looked at him with surprised and for some reason, she was blushing.

“Prickly Queen, I can tell that this bothers you. Which is fair. Your old man acted like a prick and you deserve to know more about your lil’ bro or lil’ sis. Spade is over, so you can start to try some personal quests. I’ll help ya.”

“You… you would… But… But I told you I have no clues about their identities.”

“Just details, Prickly Queen. Just details. I think we can manage that, even though it won’t be really easy and it might take some time. But we had it worth, with those elves and those shitty devils. Searching for your sibling is a piece of cake compared to that. And well, you wanted us to be on better terms, wouldn’t that be like a perfect occasion?”

“I… I’ll accept your help. Thank you, Yami.”

Charlotte smiled so brightly at him like she never did before. And his stupid heart was beating even faster for no reason.

But who cares? Yami would help her, with her secret half-sibling and those suitors as well.

After all, she was important to him.

♣♣♣

“You see that tree there, Nozel? Just at the pool. This tree is called a willow.”

“A will-o.”

“Almost. It’s a beautiful tree, isn’t it? Willows are like shelters, with those branches that flow around them like a waterfall. And this one is especially like this. It’s one of my favourite places.”

“Favo…?

“You’ll learn that word soon enough, my sweet baby boy.”

Nozel couldn’t tell if his memory was accurate. He had been only two or three years back then, when his mother brought him at the parc of the royal capital for the first time.

But as he saw that willow his mother loved so much, right at the pool full of water lilies, he felt that the memory which just popped into his mind was true.

Why was he even there in the first place?

A matter of circumstances, honestly. Grenadine told his vice-captain that he left work earlier yesterday to go out and Agatha told him she should do that more often, because apparently it did him good.

Nozel would admit that leaving work earlier and allow himself somehow a relaxing evening did him good indeed. Today, he worked calmer like never before since he became captain of the Silver Eagles and he had been less stressed. A foreign feeling for him. Not uncomfortable, he’ll admit, but still unusual. He didn’t know if this would be efficient every time for his duties. But maybe he needed that.

It had been a shock yesterday when Vanessa took him to his mother favourite café. A lot of memories had come back to him. Happy ones, but they still hurt nonetheless. Every one of them hurt and just made him felt more guilty for all of his mistakes. But when Vanessa brought him to this café – what a coincidence she knew the café his mother loved so much – Nozel felt like he couldn’t continue like this anymore. Fleeing those happy and painful memories… in the end, it hadn’t helped.

So, today he took his vice-captains suggestion – much to his knights shock – and left work earlier as well. But instead of going back to the Silva palace, his feet led him to the parc of the royal capital and more precisely, to the willow at the pool with the water lilies.

Another one of his mother’s favourite places. Not to mention that willows were her favourite trees and water lilies her favourite flowers. She was the one who installed a little pool with water lilies in the Silva flower garden, the most beautiful flower garden in the whole kingdom.

Another favourite place of Acier Silva.

How strange. He hadn’t thought about all those places his mother loved for so long and now, he couldn’t stop thinking about them. Thanks to a person that has no bonds whatsoever with his mother at all, how peculiar.

Would Vanessa love to know this place as well? Would she love it?

Why did her opinion somehow mattered so much to Nozel?

It was fair to say that since the return from Spade, some unexpected things happened in his life. Some were welcome and even needed, like his better relationship with Noelle and the fact that Nebra also wanted to mend her bond with their youngest sister. Still a work in progress and he still doubted that he deserved it. But it was nice and it made Noelle so happy. He couldn’t take that away from her.

Then he finally accepted someone as a Silver Eagle who wasn’t a royal or a noble. Which brought him a lot of critics from most royals and nobles, but they always were subtly on his back behind closed doors, he was used to it. Besides, Grenadine was a bastard, so she had noble blood. But still, she wasn’t a royal or a noble and Nozel felt a bit proud to have let go some of his prejudices and chose her as a new recruit.

But those were things he was able to plan his future steps, to get ready for any eventuality. Vanessa barging like that into his life… he had no control over it, no possibility to plan his next steps. It had been so fast in a way. It overwhelmed him, but not in a way of drowning. It felt… nice. To have someone to talk to, who seemed to understand him, who told him things he didn’t even know he needed to hear.

It was thanks to Vanessa somehow that Nozel got a grip on himself and stopped fleeing the happy memories he had of his mother.

Was this how gratitude felt like? He had forgotten the feelings so long ago.

Slowly, Nozel walked down the path to the willow. He still felt this apprehension to come back to this spot. Should he have taken all of his siblings with him or was it too soon to have all four of them peacefully in a place? Should he have taken his sisters? Only Noelle? Only Nebra?

Nozel was so used to make things wrong since his mother died, he wasn’t able to tell anymore if it was really wrong or actually right. Was he still strong or did his maintenance of house Silva, of the legacy his mother left behind and of his controlled, tasteless life starting to have some cracks?

It was so blurry, he couldn’t tell. But he needed to figure it out, one way or another. Maybe starting to finally live a bit more for himself would help, even though he probably didn’t deserve it. But living for impossible expectations… He didn’t want this anymore. He lived like that for over a decade and it never had been enough in the eyes of nobles and most royals.

Nozel quickly shook his head. He didn’t want to torture himself with those kind of thoughts today, he did that every other day already. He wanted to remember his mother, maybe cry a while and learn to calm down his guilt, not completely, but a little bit.

He started to walk slightly faster.

“Oh, lord Nozel, good evening!”

Nozel just stopped, holding back a groan. It wouldn’t have been very royal to do so. But still appropriate, somehow.

“Lord Reginald Évantail.”

And of course, it had to be one of the members of house Évantail, the very same house of Grenadines father. Would he try to subtly complain that Nozel took the bastard daughter of this noble house as a new Silver Eagle? Wouldn’t be the first time and his answers started to come automatically at this point.

“What a surprise to see here, do you have a free evening?”

Yes, and he would highly appreciate to not have it tainted by a snob, thank you very much.

“Yes, it is something I need once in a while.”

“Who would have known, I always thought you were always at work. But I can understand that you need a calm evening from time to time, I know that duties can be so exhausting sometimes.”

Nozel turned away, because he couldn’t fight his urge to roll his eyes. He knew that duties could be exhausting, he followed them every day. Which wasn’t the case for lord Reginald and other nobles like him.

“For example, searching for an appropriate spouse for my children,” lord Reginald continued, with fake casualty. “You know, my oldest daughter married last year. Well, it was time for Ursula, almost to late even, she was this close to become a spinster. But I still have eleven other children and most of them are in marital age. Lady Bianca, my Head of House, is of course a big help, but it is still so difficult to find the best candidates for my poor children.”

Which was worse, complaints about Grenadine becoming a Silver Eagle or nobles trying not very subtly to get someone married into royalty?

Nozel knew that it was his duty to get married one day or another and by doing so, allow his siblings the freedom to choose who they want. A duty he never appreciated and for some reason, he started to hate it more and more. He didn’t know why, he didn’t know how, but the thought of marrying someone out of duty and conceive an heir – a very touchy subject for the Silvas, since there was only four of them left – became unbearable with each passing day.

Did this also started since he came back from Spade? Maybe even in Spade? Nozel remembered he had mentioned a bit to Vanessa during their talk three months ago.

Vanessa… her again.

As if saying it out loud for the first time and to her made him realize how disgusting this duty was.

Lord Reginald of course continued his speech. How many times did he rehearsed it? “I think I might have mentioned that my second oldest daughter, Prudence, is younger than you and very available. Not to mention that she is prudent, a good quality for a Head’s spouse. And my oldest son, Reginald the second, might have taken some interest in lady Nebra. Oh, and my twins, Victor and Victoria might be interest in lady Noelle or in lord Solid, if it must be. And well, as you know, I’m a widower since last year and I wouldn’t mind to change my name into the one my sixth wife would wear.”

I would myself become a Silva if you let me marry either lady Nebra or lady Noelle. Of course lord Reginald didn’t say that, but it was like he did. This couldn’t be called subtility anymore!

Nozel never liked lord Reginald, like honestly most members of house Évantail. The only one who had a very positive impression on him was Grenadine and she was a bastard daughter.

There was no way Nozel would let that old man who still tried to appear young marry one of his sisters, he was old enough to be their grandfather! And none of his children would be Silvas either. The other Reginald was just a copy of his father, the twins were snobbish devils and Prudence Évantail was maybe calm, but also extremely submissive and arrogant. Not to mention she had been one to always have harsh words speaking of Noelle.

No, none of them would be perfect fits to be Silvas, despite how much lord Reginald and his children thought that they had the key to make house Silva great again. Like all those other nobles who sent him marriage proposals day after day.

Nozel was sick of it.

He would have to choose a spouse one day, for his siblings. But not today and certainly not someone from house Évantail.

“I’m sure you will find potential spouses for your children, lord Reginald. Nobles are always good at such things.”

His voice was calm, cold and distant, hiding the sarcasm and sounding like he was stating a fact. Good. That might do the trick.

Reginald Évantail was taken aback, but sadly he was a stubborn noble.

“I mean, there was no Silva marriage since your late mother with your dear father. And there’s now only four of you, which is almost scandalous. Not to mention one is not a Silver Eagle, but still a Silva.”

“Have you any objections about how I lead my family and my squad, lord Reginald?”

“I wouldn’t dare to say that.”

He just did, but Nozel had no intention to back down.

“This is good, because you are very much aware that it is not your business how I handle house Silva or the Silver Eagles. After all, you aren’t even a Head of House yourself, but your mother, lady Bianca. If she has a complaint that involves both our houses, she can demand for an audience and we’ll see if I have time for her.”

“But didn’t she demanded an audience not so long ago? About that Silver Eagle who is unworthy to wear the robe…”

Nozel knew that lord Reginald talked about Grenadine. But the description didn’t apply to her and Nozel wasn’t stupid, it was the perfect occasion to make this prick shut up for good.

“I’ll admit that I have a lot of concern about Samuel. He is your nephews son, isn’t he? Well, you’re right, he is very unfit to wear the Silver Eagle’s robe, and worse, he has a nasty habit to avoid his duties. Sadly, the safety of the Clover kingdom and it’s citizen is something he doesn’t seem to care about. I know that we have a century-old agreement with house Évantail to take one member of their house as a Silver Eagle, but if we could change Samuel for a member of your house who would make a serious Magic Knight, I will gladly grant lady Bianca that audience.”

The face lord Reginald was priceless. He knew that there was nothing to say without being ridiculous. He quickly nodded as goodbye and walk away quickly.

Nozel smiled. It was just a small victory and he knew house Évantail would come to bother him again, but it really did feel so good. The occasions to shut up disturbing nobles like that were rare, but very sweet.

“What a jerk, really.”

Nozel almost jumped as he recognize that voice.

Vanessa.

Was she popping into his life like that every day now? Not that he mind, on the contrary, he was forced to admit that she was great company. Not to mention that he thought about her more often than he probably should. But he couldn’t help it.

“He clearly wanted to insult you and yet, he still hoped that one of his children would marry you or your siblings, after what he just said? Geez, and then he wanted to insult you and Grenadine, just because she became a knight of the Silver Eagles. You shut him down perfectly, handsome, he deserved that lesson.”

“Did you heard our talk?”

“Welp, I saw you and since I was here too, I wanted to say hi. So yeah, I heard most of your talk. Gosh, shouldn’t that jerk respect you more? You’re royalty and you are more honourable and respectful, he’s nothing of that! Okay, I don’t know him, granted. But still, whether I know him or not, I know disrespect when I see it. And why did he need to give pink such a bad name? A nice hair colour and nice eye colour as well and such a jerk behaviour, those colours are wasted on him!”

Vanessa seemed so genuinely upset and Nozel couldn’t help but find her beautifully adorable.

Wait, did he just thought that? Well, it was true that she was, but why was it so easy for him to see it?

“Is it true?”

“What do you mean?”

“That your squad has an old agreement with this jerk’s family to accept one of their members as a knight for the Silver Eagles.”

“Sadly, it is. It’s a common occurrence for old squads, especially those of royalty. Noble house heads mostly use those kinds of agreements to send their most useless or most scandalous members to the squads, so they won’t have to deal much with them anymore.”

“Oh… So that’s what you meant when you say nobles use your squad as a trash bin.”

“Well… It is crude to say like that, I admit. But it is also pretty much accurate.”

“Hm. So, now that this jerk is finally not bothering you anymore, can you tell me what brought you here?”

She smiled at him. That cheeky, but incredibly gorgeous smile. She was such a beauty…

It took Nozel a few seconds before he realized that he needed to answer her.

“Just a walk… and also memories of this place.”

“Oh, really? What exactly, handsome?”

“You see that willow tree over there? The one at the pool with the water lilies. It was my mother’s favourite place in this parc. I haven’t been there since years…”

“Like with the café.”

It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t teasing. Just a soft compassion.

Nozel just nodded.

“It looks like a pretty place to be. Your mother surely knew good spots when she saw one.”

“Shall I show you?”

The words left him before he could even think about him. Which never happened to him before. Except in Vanessas presence, for some mysterious reason.

Vanessa turned towards him, her eyes full of surprise. She didn’t answer immediately and during those seconds, Nozel find himself scared. Scared she would refuse, scared she would feel offended by his offer. He had no idea which one was worse, honestly.

The she smiled again and Nozel felt like a heavy burden fell away from him. Seriously, why was he so worked up when it came to her?

“I’d love to. Come, sugar.”

Will she ever stop giving him flirting nicknames like that? Nozel doubted it.

When they came under the willow, Nozel felt himself getting slowly emotional again. This spot almost didn’t changed. The tree was a bit bigger, of course. But for everything else… the evening sun shining softly through the leaves of the willow, the light reflecting on the water, the green of the tree and the blue, pink, white, orange and other colours of the water lilies, it was just like he remembered it.

Just like his mother always loved it.

“Gosh, no wonder your mom loved it here. It feels like a secured place or a sanctuary,” Vanessa laughed, turning around a bit before she sat down on the grass.

“I think it was somehow for her,” Nozel replied, as he sat down next to her. “She liked to come here, preferably with one or two of her favourite novels. Willows were her favourite trees. And water lilies were her favourite flowers.”

“Those are very beautiful flowers, I have to say. Tell me, captain, since you’re a Silva, can you tell me what they mean in flower language?”

“How do you know that we Silvas get education of flower language?”

“Noelle, of course, silly. She’s even the only Black Bull with that kind of knowledge, which always upsets her. But she is kinda helpful. Finral wanted to offer some kind of dark purple flowers and Noelle said that those were mostly to put on peoples grave, so he got her others instead. I mean, the purple ones looked pretty, but I’ll admit that they had a gloomy touch, especially when Gordon held them.”

“Well… Not even the Kiras and the Vermillions learn flower language, it was always us Silvas. I can’t tell were that tradition came from, it must be centuries old. But we do have a beautiful flower garden, with all sorts of flower varieties.”

“Hm, having a flower garden doesn’t mean you have to learn flower language, but why not? So, back to my question, what do water lilies mean?”

“They have different symbolism, like every flower actually. Most of the time, they are a symbol for enlightenment, given of the conditions they grew from. They’re also a symbol for purity, especially the white ones, and majesty. In some cases, water lilies symbolizes as well rebirth and resurrection.”

His mother particularly loved those last symbolism. Nozel never knew why, but if he had to guess, maybe it was because she lost her younger sister to another royal house and her three older siblings who died young. The two uncles and the aunt Nozel never met…

“Nice symbolism, I’d say. And they’re pretty too. No wonder your mother loved them.”

“Yes, she did. But my mother had the habit to call them by one of their other names.”

“Oh, which one?”

“Nymphaea.”

“Nymphea…?”

“It is a variant of the term, but Nymphaea is the correct one.”

“Meh, sounds similar to me and both sounds pretty. Would also be a good name.”

Nozel couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Oh my gosh, you can laugh! And such pretty laugh too. What is so funny that you couldn’t hold back that lovely sound?”

Nozel blushed, but still answered, “I just… remembered something. When mother was pregnant with Noelle, she had a hard time to decide between a dozen names. Two were her definite favourites. Noelle of course, but also Nymphea.”

“After her favourite flower… And another N name?”

“My mother had such a weakness for names starting with N. I have no idea why, though, so don’t ask me why. When she was expecting Noelle, all the names she thought about started with that specific letter. It was the same when she was pregnant with Nebra and according to my Vermillion aunt, it was also like this with me. Only Solid was the exception, his name was chosen by our father.”

And that man was someone he would not think about, especially not when he was with Vanessa.

“Nymphea Silva,” Vanessa said thoughtfully. “It does have a very nice ring to it. Noelle is nice too, obviously. So, how did she choose that name in the end?”

“Mother told me she choose Noelle in the end, because… because it was so similar to mine.”

“Really? That’s a weird reason.”

Nozel couldn’t deny that. But maybe his mother hoped he would bond with his new sister and be less lonely, if said sister had a name similar to his.

A comfortable silence settled between them. The only things to be heard were the soft breeze blowing through the branches of the willow, some birds singing, the blurry sounds from the capital, sounding so far away even though they weren’t out of town at all.

It was peaceful, so peaceful. Mother must have knew it too, when she came here to read her favourite novels, when she had some free time.

Why did he stop doing that? Because he still felt like he didn’t deserve it. But Nozel didn’t want to feel like that right now. It was so peaceful and it felt so… right. As if it was meant to be since very long.

One day, Nozel promised himself to bring Nebra, Solid and Noelle here too. I won’t be for soon, of course. But one day, he wanted to bring them here, one of mothers favourite places.

And for that, he needed to move forward and work to mend their broken bonds even more.

Suddenly, Vanessa shifted beside him and Nozel was shocked as she actually lied down, her head on his lap.

Never had someone been this bold with him! Okay, nobles were bold, but this here… This was another kind of boldness. And it didn’t felt disrespectful at all. More like gentle teasing and care.

“You really should go out and relax like this more often, honey. It visibly does you good, you look more handsome than usual when you let go of your burden,” Vanessa smiled, winking at him before closing her eyes, clearly enjoying the moment.

If anyone would see them like that in this very moment, they would… think that Vanessa was his mistress or something like that. Which she wasn’t at all and Nozel hated to connect such an insulting word to Vanessa.

It was one second of panic. Just one second. But looking at Vanessa, lying so relaxed on his lap, eyes closed and smiling, enjoying the moment… It was enough to calm Nozel down.

No, he wouldn’t panic and destroy this moment. No one was at the parc at this hour and even if there was someone, the branch of the willow hid them enough, they wouldn’t be seen. He knew that he would get worried about it later on, of course he would be. But for the first time, Nozel wanted to enjoy the presence.

Nozel couldn’t help but look at Vanessa again. Slowly, very slowly, he moved his right hand, caressing her hair, soft like a touch of a tiny butterfly. Maybe she hasn’t realized it.

Her rosewood locks were soft, almost like silk or satin. She was beautiful, both on the outside and on the inside. Nozel didn’t understand why she became such a part of his life in just three months and he had no idea what role she played in it. It was so strange and he was almost afraid to try to understand. Would it be over if it wasn’t a mystery anymore?

But Nozel didn’t want to have Vanessa out of his life again. He didn’t deserve that kindness, but for once, he hoped to keep it. He also wanted to know more about her, everything.

Maybe she became a bit more than just a friend for him.

[writing-with-sophia]

Old money names

For girls:

Adelaide - Meaning "noble and kind".

Beatrice - Meaning "bringer of happiness".

Cecilia - Meaning "blind" (associated with the patron saint of music).

Dorothea - Meaning "gift of God".

Eugenia - Meaning "well-born" or "noble".

Florence - Meaning "prosperous" or "flowering".

Georgiana - Meaning "farmer" or "earth worker".

Henrietta - Meaning "ruler of the home".

Isabella - Meaning "pledged to God" or "devoted to God".

Josephine - Meaning "God will add" or "God increases".

Lavinia - Meaning "purity" or "woman of Rome".

Matilda - Meaning "mighty in battle".

Octavia - Meaning "eighth" or "born eighth".

Prudence - Meaning "cautious" or "wise".

Rosalind - Meaning "pretty rose".

Seraphina - Meaning "ardent" or "burning one" (associated with the highest order of angels).

Theodora - Meaning "gift of God".

Victoria - Meaning "victory" or "conqueror".

Winifred - Meaning "blessed peace" or "joy and peace".

Penelope - Meaning "weaver".

For boys:

Archibald - Meaning "genuine and bold".

Bartholomew - Meaning "ploughman".

Cedric - Meaning "bounty" or "generous".

Desmond - Meaning "one from Desmond" or "gracious defender"

Edmund - Meaning "fortunate protector".

Franklin - Meaning "free landowner" .

Gregory - Meaning "watchful" or "vigilant".

Harrison - Meaning "son of Harry".

Ignatius - Meaning "fiery" or "ardent".

Jasper - Meaning "treasurer" or "bringer of treasure".

Leopold - Meaning "brave people" or "bold for the people".

Montague - Meaning "pointed hill" or "sharp peak".

Nathaniel - Meaning "gift of God" or "God has given".

Orville - Meaning "golden city" or "gold town".

Percival - Meaning "pierce the valley" or "piercing one".

Reginald - Meaning "counsel power" or "ruler's advisor".

Sebastian - Meaning "venerable" or "revered".

Theodore - Meaning "gift of God" or "God-given".

Victor - Meaning "victor" or "conqueror".

Winston - Meaning "joyful stone" or "joyful town".

If you want to read more posts about writing, please click here and give me a follow!

[the-irken-luxray]

[ID 1: a bust of Jenny Coffield, a stick figure oc with short, wavy hair, a top hat adorned with multiple spheres, and a burn scar on her head, showing off a “top bomb”, a top hat shaped object with a fuse sticking out the top. Tagline text reads “it explodes in the shape of a top hat”.]

[ID 2: a full body doodle of Reginald Copperbottom grinning evilly while holding a gun. Blue text reads “autism be damned my boy can kill”. A small doodle of someone’s Toppat sona or OC fawns over Reginald with multiple floating hearts. Adjacent is a generic stick figure who is getting shot in the head. Text pointing to the stick figure reads “the cringe”. Yellow writing reads “ding dong the wicked cringe is dead”.]

[ID 3: a mouthless stick figure looks confused and mildly uncomfortable while looking at the viewer. Text next to them reads “my darling”, “precious blorbo”, and “beloved”. Below the text is a blob with eyes and no mouth in a happy expression, with writing reading “blorbo!” The stick figure is holding up a sign that says “I am literally just text????”

[ID 4: a doodle of Jenny’s head with text reading “Your Toppat weapon ideas HERE!” Below is a drawing of Pike Cassino, a stick figure with a top hat decorated with slot machine wheels and horns, a gold tooth, and whiskery facial hair. a speech bubble pointing to him reads “Maybe a gun that doesn’t blast me back when I fire it…” End ID]

Probably not gonna add a lot to the whiteboard because I’m busy with other stuff but I managed to squeeze in some additions on my phone last night. Additions from @kursed-curtain and some others (Feel free to tag yourselves if you see your additions btw, I struggle to recognize ppl sorry)

Bonus comment of mine on a doodle from @8goop

[ID: a drawing of Reginald laying on his side seductively while holding a rose in his teeth and blushing. Drawing is signed @ 8goop. Text to the side of the drawing (blue to distinguish from the original artist) reads “man can’t land a date for the life of him (affectionate)”. End ID.]

[cheriecelestial]

Luminary Pt.1

pairing *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Yan Emperor!OC X Swordmaster!OC

disclaimer *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ yandere thoughts. hurt/no comfort. angst. mentions of violence and character death. lovers to enemies.

a/n *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Reposting a very old piece post editing (not really lol). According to my old a/n this was “very 3am spontaneous writing” meaning the idea was spontaneous not the process. Very manhwa-esque historical plot ig. Please listen to Joel Sunny’s Luminary for the whole experience. like always COMMENT LIKE & REBLOG (☆≧▽^)

Pt.2

Ceaseless noblesse chatter, clinking of glasses and rustling of ball gowns blurred into an unintelligible myriad of sounds. Cecily massaged the bridge of her nose in an attempt to calm the pulsating migraine in her forehead. As much as she loved dressing up on her own accord and dancing, she felt much repulsion to high society. Whosoever had compared high society to a sandalwood tree must’ve been a wise person - exquisite and ambrosial smelling but intertwined with serpents waiting to pounce. Her sharp gaze, reminiscent of a relentless hunter, swept the expanse of ballroom to locate her target attendee. He wasn’t here, not yet at least. But he was expected to be here soon, after all what king doesn’t show up to the party he hosted in his own honour ?

Everything the room exuded an elite air of grandeur. Golden tendrils resembling vines creeping up the wall and colluding in a labyrinthine pattern of flowers and leaves against the stained glass ceilings. Lush roses filled each vase placed exactly five meters apart from each other. In the centre of the dome were three collinear alchemy powered faux stars, the centre attraction and the nominative factor of the ballroom — the Syzygy Hall. Leaning against the stone wall, the crisp night air fills her lungs while the stars twinkle in the dark, velvety sky, and she watched them with a nostalgic sense of appreciation. The flashing memories of her stargazing in this very hall with a certain gifted mage tugged harshly on her heart stings but she forced herself to shun them and focus on the task ahead.

Cecily shifted her attention to the noblemen and women drift across the smooth marble floors like clockwork nutcrackers in grandfather clocks. It all looked so beautiful and for the lack of a better word, rich. A part of her would’ve wanted to join to the festivities had her heart not drowned in waves of indignation for the host. But then as having danced her fair share of high society parties — she knew of the incessant debauchery, corruption and vicious yet sugarcoated calumny at the core of this diamond and silk adorned marvel. Nobility was a word that evoked images of artifice, undeserved riches, wastefulness and textbook narcissism. Albeit belonging to the pinnacle of non-royal nobility — Cecily’s lineage was both a blessing and a curse. As the daughter of one of the three dukes in the empire and the daughter and successor of the continent’s finest swordsman , Carlisle Reginald, Cecily was taught to be wary of desperate social climber with saccharine laced tongues at a young age. Just the thought of her family flared the inferno of negative feelings further.

“This far behind enemy lines ? Can’t tell if it’s brave, audacious or plain stupid.” Cecily rolled her eyes at the new admission. “What would you know anything about bravery Marcellus ?” The red haired paladin flinched at the woman using his full name and bit his tongue to restrain himself from answering her verbal jabs.

“I did what I had to do” He muttered quietly with his gaze fixed on the floor as if it was the most scintillating creation known to mankind. “You mean leaving your men to die mid-battle and defecting to the enemy’s side ?” Cecily scoffed at his confession. She couldn’t help be reminded of the past when they were trainee knights and how they were a symbol of valour and justice. The nights they spent at taverns celebrating after successfully completing missions and training. Cecily couldn’t pinpoint when everything changed and when people she knew digressed beyond recognition but it left a bitter taste in her mouth. Marcel’s words were slow to come out but he sighed and answered, “I merely chose the winning side . Unlike you, I have a sense of self preservation.”

“Where I’m from , we call it cowardice”

“Probably why that place burnt to the ground,”Marcel was hit with a sense of instant regret the second those words left his mouth. He muttered a quick apology as if that ever solved anything .

“Don’t say what you don’t mean. Genuine care doesn’t suit the self-serving likes of you.” Cecily spat out with anger laced in her seemingly calm tone. Had it been some other place with someone else, she wouldn’t have hesitated to draw her sword. Knowing her temper, he saw fit to change the topic of the conversation, “ It’s a fine dress you’re wearing. But I have to say - had I not known better I’d say it was a wedding gown. One refined enough for a duke’s daughter”

“It is a wedding gown. I just repurposed it since I don’t need it anymore and my other gowns were burnt along with my house. I’m sure you remember, you were there.”Cecily spoke in a monotone as she absentmindedly fiddled with the lace trimmings of her dress and the silver corsage on her wrist.

Marcel gulped at the realisation and looked away to the sea of jolly nobility dancing their evening away but he still couldn’t seem to shake off the chills floating in the air. Luck truly wasn’t on his side today “I know it was a purely political arrangement but Cedric was a good man. You have my condolences.”

His words evoked a humourless laugh from Cecily. Just how shameless could he be ? Leading the campaign that killed her fiancé and still have the guts to offer his sympathies.

“Losing a fiancé ? I’m sure you know what that’s like. Considering how you let Lucia Arden die just to save your own skin.”

Cecily remembered the sweet and gentle field medic who stopped at nothing to consistently heal her comrades and boost her fellow knights’ morale with her encouraging words. And she also remembered watching the radiant light leave her eyes and her skin turn frigid pale after Marcel defected and ambushed his own squadron. Cecily and Marcel were the closest of friends, maybe that’s why his betrayal stung so much. Had someone told about Marcel’s betrayal to her younger self from two years ago, she would’ve laughed at them and wonder if they lost their mind.

“What happened to her was regrettable. I asked her to join me. But she refused. Because she was -” so loyal to you, is what he wanted to say but something told him that not completely the sentence would serve him better. Cecily didn’t respond to him nor did she look at him. Marcel’s gaze fell to her fist which had clenched so tight that her knuckles were turning white.

“I tried you know. I really tried to convince her. That was more what I should’ve done considering what her family did to Genevieve—” despite his attempts to mask his emotions, venomous contempt seeped into his voice.“Lucia wasn’t her family. She didn’t know. She had no part in it.” Cecily countered firmly.

“She was going to be a mother ! And they—”Marcel swallowed thickly, unable to continue. Cecily sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose. Genevieve - the feisty barmaid at their favourite tavern who managed to capture Marcel’s heart and subsequently died a tragic death the hands of the Marquis Arden who couldn’t bear the disgrace of his daughter’s fiancé choosing a destitute orphaned commoner over his well-bred aristocratic daughter.

“What happened to her was unjust, but that doesn’t justify your treachery. You let your own men die. The very men that swore loyalty to you. The ones that fought, ate and bled by your side.” Cecily eyed him with simmering hatred. Marcel looked uncharacteristically startled for a moment by the her disdain but covered it up quickly. Silvers of guilt flashed in his eyes when he realised that even if he had managed to secure a future for himself as the commander general of the new king’s knights, he lost something truly important to him. The past him would’ve really hated him now.

“Of all people I thought you’d know what it’s like to lose the one you love the most. But in hindsight, you’re probably worse off than me. I’m sure you know, he isn’t what he used to be. The King’s scouts have been looking for you and the other rebels . You should leave before he sees you.” Warning her was the most he could do for her now. He had sworn loyalty to the new king but standing in front of his childhood friend - he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of conflict.

“Why ? Is he planning to send me and my men to the gallows ?” Cecily scoffed as if impressed that the king was putting in so much effort to locate her. “Your men ? Yes. You ? No. Corrupted or not, not even he could get himself to kill the woman he loves so dearly. But I’m positive whatever his plans for you are, would make you wish that he sent you to the gallows instead. He won’t kill you but beware— he won’t be soft either. He’s changed beyond recognition.”

“That’s exactly what I’m counting on,”she muttered to herself as she watched Marcel vanish from her side and melt into the sea of guests.

For a moment the entire ballroom stilled and she knew he was here. Her eyes swept the length of the ballroom till she met the gaze of the devil himself. Unlike what he used to wear when she knew him, he donned the most lavish robes and jewels she’d seen on a person. His unruly platinum hair were styled perfect to accentuate his looks. The crystalline vivid blue eyes she fell in love with were replaced by a sinister shade of ruby red. He stared intently at her, it is as if his eyes intended to pierce her skin and rip out her soul. Her stomach twisted and the chill in the air sent goosebumps down her neck and back. He never looked more glorious. The corners of his lips curled up into a slight smile as he made his way through the crowd. Her breath shallowed with each step that he took towards her.

“Duchess Reginald. It truly is you and here I thought my senses were deceiving me.” Cecily flinched at the title knowing full well that she never got to ceremoniously inherit the title since the previous Duke died at the emperor’s sword following the coup d’état and the estate was burned to a crisp not too long ago. His gentle expression of adoration cut off air from her lungs and she felt as though the string of pearls around her neck turned into a noose. She wanted to scream, to cry, to seek retribution for all the havoc he wrecked but swallowing her emotions down she placed her hand on her heart and bowed lightly,“Glory and blessings upon the rising sun of the Asterin empire,” Cecily heard melodious laughter as response to her words. Her heart dropped from the sheer impact. Cecily Reginald was a creature of pure control and the idea of losing control, especially just by his mere presence, was offensive to her. Her heart burst into multitude of emotions as she tried to rein them and stay calm.

“And I never thought I’d see you bow. But then, bowing isn’t always submission. Now is it, my dearest Cecily ?” Electricity coursed her veins at the way her name rolled off his tongue in the same tender fashion as he used to when they were younger. He’s changed beyond recognition, Marcel’s words ringed in her ears. Cecily didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of eliciting a reaction so she shifted her gaze away. Much to her dismay, her refusal just swelled his need to provoke her further .

“Please don’t shy away duchess. It’s a glorious party, would you be so kind to grant me the honour of a dance ?” The king outstretched his hand towards her with seemingly innocent intent. The emperor’s first dance of the evening, an action that symbolised winning the favour of the emperor. Which was why — traditionally it was done between courting, betrothed or wedded couples. After a moment’s hesitation she took his hand and was guided to the centre of the dance floor. The king placed a hand on her waist and interlaced his other hand with hers. The position seemed so natural to them like two pieces of a puzzle that were created to fit together. He actioned the orchestra and the waltz began without a hitch as the band of musicians weaved pleasant melodies into the air.

“You look ravishing my dearest.” Cecily’s breath hitched as the king tugged on her waist, pulling her closer. His smirk widened in satisfaction at her visceral reaction. “Thank you your majesty.” She looked at him with her eyes betraying traces of emotion even though she was restraining herself to her best capacity. But the memory of his touch still fills her heart with longing but she still hated how much the sensation excites her.

“I was informed that troops stationed north of Demaris were brutally slaughtered by the rebel forces spearheaded by a certain raven haired general. You wouldn’t know anything about that, now would you duchess ?” Cecily’s face hardened and she replied in a sharp tone,“Depends on why those troops were present in the first place your majesty.” The king’s troops were sent to forcefully evict war immigrants that were rendered homeless by the conquests of the previous emperor since he regarded them as a political liability. The villagers were kind enough to house some of the rebels in exchange for protection against the monsters near the border.

Vivacious laughter bubbles from his chest and he responded ,“Very well dearest. And please, drop the formalities. Call me by my name. Your majesty feels unnatural.” She knew provoking him any more than necessary would only spell trouble for it. Her scheme had to work out as planned. “Atticus,” she breathed out with much difficulty. Saying his name was a tougher task than she had initially thought. A pleased smirk made its way onto his lips, leaving Cecily feeling as if she had lost.

“I know blue is your colour but I have to admit, you look utterly angelic in white. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on. What a fine bride you would make.”

Under different circumstances, she would’ve blushed and accepted the compliment graciously. Cecily felt a strange feeling of melancholy and what ifs shrouded her. She was so determined before coming here and she couldn’t afford letting her purpose dissolve just because she was holding onto the ghost of the man she loved.

“What use is beauty when you’re cursed with rotten luck the way I am. I have two dead fiancés on my tab already.” She laughed humorouslessly and eyed him with an insinuating sharpness. Atticus smiled with his evergreen charm before continuing knowingly ,“ Hmm. Maybe it’s a sign from the goddess of marriage that those men and you weren’t meant to be .”

Cecily arched her brow at his revelation. Is that what he was trying to paint them as ? Twists of fate ? She may not have loved either of them but they weren’t deserving of the end that befell them. “I know you’ve taken many aliases in your lifetime but goddess of marriage ? That’s a new one your majesty.” Atticus’ mocking clearly struck a nerve. She half expected him to take offence to her words but instead he looked at her in bemusement.

He clicked his tongue in a ‘ah’ gesture and suggested ,” Well you know what they say m’lady. Third time’s a charm .” Cecily knew exactly what he was implying but she didn’t want to grant him an ounce of satisfaction by giving him a favourable reaction .

“Unfortunately your majesty, I am above wedding kinslayers and dark magic practitioners .” She scowled at him as if testing to see if he had even an ounce of conscience intact . Atticus’ smile faltered and there was a brief flicker of discomfort in him as the implications of her words sunk in. His eyes narrowed slightly at her reaction.

“Ces I —,” but before he could respond Cecily cut him off ,“ And even if they had it coming . It doesn’t change the fact that you killed my father.” Memory of the pain of finding out about her father’s death on accounts of treason was clear as day in her heart. Carlisle Reginald was many things but not a traitor. He was so loyal to the crown that there were times when she resented him for choosing his duty over his own family.

Atticus visibly grimaced and his eyes turned to icy resentment ,“ The same father that abused you and caused you unimaginable pain in the name of training ? The same father who burnt the side of your face to destroy any chance of marriage because noblemen don’t wed women with scars ? The same father that nearly pushed you to end your life because you couldn’t handle the mantle of becoming the next swordsmaster ? Do you truly resent me for it my dearest ?” Cecily felt her throat tighten with emotion. She glanced away as though trying to think of an answer. There is no right answer to that question.

“ I don’t but —,” She admitted, her eyes still fixated on the corners of the room ,“ What about my Silas? Why did you kill him ? He looked up to you. He chose to pursue alchemy over swordsmanship because of you. He was a child . He didn’t deserve it.” The night her father died, the king’s men burnt her family estate to the ground and her brother with it.

Atticus stared at her for a couple of seconds before letting out a pained sigh ,“ My love, you must believe me. I never intended to put Silas in harm’s way . I just wanted to get rid of the duke because he was the only one standing between me and the throne. I was sure that Si would be at the academy. But unfortunately he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. If it provides any solace just know I had the informants and soldiers who failed to convey that Silas was in there executed .”

There were many things she wanted to say, to vent her frustration and anger but when the time came - her grief was too severe to be expressed in words so she just looked at him, hoping he’d see how much he made her suffer. Atticus tore his gaze away from hers and clenched his jaw as if keeping himself from saying or doing things that would just worsen their situation. Uncomfortable silence befell them as they continued to dance. For the first time she realised, that they were is a ballroom filled with people. The world seemed to have dissolved into nothingness when it came to Atticus but now she was starting to feel the weight of the other guests’ curious stares and whispers. Of course rumours would make their way across high society at the speed of lightning. Two star crossed lovers forced on opposite sides by fate. Cecily and Atticus had love, one for the ages but one chose the duty to her homeland over love and the other chose power over love. Love had no place in this fight of morality and duty. It was quite a pity really.

“But your crimes don’t end there. You delved into a form of magic that was forbidden for a reason, there is always a cost for power that wicked. Always.” She looked straight into his ruby red eyes. The vibrant blood red swirled in a way that resembled shadows obscuring a ravenous beast lurking underneath.

“Is that why you got engaged my brother ? To dispose of me and make him king ?” Cecily felt the temperature around them fall as Atticus’ eyes shone with a newfound sense of fury. Gone was the sweet and gentle man she knew, instead he was replaced by this - this thing. His fingers twitched where he held her waist as if wanting to tear into her skin.

“Sure. Let’s go with that .”She replied cooly. Logic be damned, she just wanted to shatter the mask he was wearing and truly see what he’d become.

“You think I’d let him have you ? Let him make you his queen ? I‘m so sorry if it hurts you my darling but I will slay any man who thinks he can have you . If you really want to be queen, I could make you this very moment. Just say the word.” For the first time, his suave facade cracked. He sounded almost desperate, so much so that Cecily was tempted to believe that a part of the old him was still in there. Regardless of Cedric somewhat sanctimonious and saintly character, he always lacked the vigour and the ambition it took to become king and most of all - to deserve Atticus’ goddess. Cedric was the only pure blooded prince who showed an inkling of kindness to a bastard of the previous emperor so Atticus granted him the mercy of a quick and painless death. But the idea of him wedding his beloved was beyond blasphemous and filled him with unimaginable rage; making him want to give Cedric a slow and painful death instead.

To him, Cecilia Seraphina Reginald was the closest humanity has attained to godliness. The passion she projected in her art and the fire that burned behind her eyes is enough to drive anyone to insanity . She used the sword as if it was an extension of her own body and where most fought with the crude desperation , every movement of her body was deliberate and precise as if she was floating like a butterfly through the air. With each step, she seemed to move through space and time, transcending the boundaries between ordinary and extraordinary. Each slash and strike was like a paint stroke on canvas, drawing a picture of beauty and grace in motion. Her raven hair striking a beautiful contrast against her emerald eyes . Even when her father burnt the side of her face , it barely obscured her beauty. Atticus had seen her in sickness and in health. At what she considered her worst, to his eyes — she was far more enchanting than any of the excessively powdered noble ladies he’d seen in court . There is something religious about the way he adored her. There never was a God in Atticus's life. No one deserved that title after what life had thrown at him since he was little.

He remembered the first day they met when she fended off the third prince bullying Atticus at their first day at the Royal Academy. She never once discriminated against for being an illegitimate child of the emperor. Atticus was born as a result of acts of cruelty on an elite battle mage of an enemy nation who was taken by the previous emperor as spoils of war. Despite his actions, the emperor never even bothered to officially make her his concubine so Atticus’ status in the Royal Palace was akin to that of a servant’s. Throughout his childhood, he had been a prince solely in name. His entire life, everyone looked at him as if he was some sort of abomination — except her. Despite that the dignified and legendary duke’s only daughter, the lady with the highest status after the empress and princesses themselves, when faced disapproval for befriending the emperor’s bastard, she never once turned her back on him. And not necessarily because she was kind but because it was the right thing to do. Cecily was first person in Atticus’ life who made him believe that he was worth being treated as a human.

“What have you become Atticus ? We could’ve—”

“We could’ve what exactly ? Huh ? There was no other way. And you know it.” Atticus spat out through gritted teeth, a look of abject misery flashed by Cecily’s face. He was right, unless there had been some great power intervention there was no way he could become king. It didn’t matter if the most elite swordsmaster or the nouveau rich nobles that supported him, he could never get past the old nobility and the six legitimate pure blooded princes.

“What is worth it ?” She asked with her words dying by the end of the sentence. For a moment, she felt as though she was back when they were kids and how he would talk about making them pay. No rebels or tyrants, no duty or thirst for power — just as Ces and Atty .

Something in Atticus’ snapped as he gripped her wrist tighter,“ Better than anything I ever imagined. They always acted so high and mighty, you should’ve seen how they grovelled and begged . It was worth it, all of it.”

“Was it worth losing me ?” Cecily knew she shouldn’t have asked something she didn’t want him to answer. She knew she shouldn’t have crossed that line. She shouldn’t have because she knew the answer. But she had to— in order to move on, to let him go, to fulfil her duty and destiny.

“I haven’t lost you” Out of all the responses he could’ve given , this was the least expected. Did he truly believe that ? Cecily searched his face for any signs of fallacy or trickery but found none. Her mouth fell open in disbelief and after composing herself she asked ,“ What makes you say that ?”

“The way I feel for you.” He answered without even skipping a beat. Cecily scoffed internally, the way he felt for her ? What a jest. It was common knowledge that the starting price for dark magic is a person’s humanity. Dark magicians were known to not be able to feel anything let alone remorse or guilt .

“That’s not true. You can’t feel anything.” She jeered at him. Atticus didn’t respond and twirled and lifted her into the air in accordance to the rhythm of the waltz. His lack of reaction almost made her think that he didn’t hear what she said, she opened her mouth to say that again but was cut off by his reply ,“Contrary to popular beliefs my darling , dark magic doesn’t completely deprive a person of all emotion. It merely diminishes emotions that were present in silvers and amplifies the most emotions felt by the person. In short, the user becomes absolutely sure of what they feel and what they want. Anger becomes rage , sadness becomes despair , fear becomes horror and love becomes –” As he spoke, he pressed his lips against her hand. She can feel the heat of his breath in the centre of her palm ,“ — unbridled obsession.” Cecily breath hitched as he moved his lips up her wrist to her palm again, tracing her veins with his lips.

"Pray tell, is that how it went ? Your barter of soul with a devil for dominion only to find yourself upon the throne, consumed by anguish not because you killed your family but rather by the realization that your affection for me would impede your ambitions ?"

Atticus got closer to her. His eyes were locked on hers, and his lips had a slight twitch to them. Lust. He was never the type to give into such base urges, but in the her presence - he craved her. A part of him hated this feeling even more than her tormenting comments. If only he could kill her and rid himself of this weakness of the flesh. “You aren’t far from it . You know I never understood the appeal my father saw in my mother but I guess I do see it now. Fiesty enemy general that just refuses to concede and all.”

“And here I thought you said you were never going to be anything like your father. I guess you kings are doomed to repeat failures of your predecessors. After all the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” He absentmindedly hummed in response to her words as if neither agreeing nor disagreeing. His eyes were fixated on his thumb caressing her wrist, Cecily noticed it and tilted her head to her side as if silently asking ‘what’re you thinking ?’

“You aren’t wrong my darling. Maybe I am the same as him. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I have everything I wanted. Except for a couple things and I don’t intend on stopping until I’ve got them.” Atticus’ eyes gleamed with a glint of great impending danger. He paused for a second as if debating whether he should disclose his plans or not but in the festive atmosphere decided the former. “You’re quite a stubborn little thing you know. I wonder if I were to incapacitate you from wielding the blade ever again, would your resolve shatter ? All the princes are dead, there’s no one to succeed me. I’ve made sure of it. Who would you crown king after me ?” He wondered if he chopped her wrists off so that she couldn’t use her sword again, would she stop resisting then ? Or perhaps if he snapped her ankles then maybe she wouldn’t be able to run away ?

“Incapacitate me ? You think you could do that ?” Albeit Cecily knew she was playing with fire, she wanted to see to what limits she could provoke him before he took extreme measures. They were playing a dangerous game. Both were waiting for the other to make a mistake, to lose their cool and to drop the civil facade and settle the score .

Others might see Atticus as this stone cold man with no feelings, but his heart was beating loud and clear in his chest, seemingly for one purpose. He hoped that his emotional conflict would clear out once he made the deal but it didn’t help. Not one bit. He often found his eyes subconsciously searching for the familiar figure in the crowds of people he’d address every day, wanting nothing more than to reach out and have her with him again. The scent of her skin and the light lavender fragrance haunted him as he tried to sleep, the vivid image of her following him in his dreams. If it were up to him, he’d drag her to the church alter this very moment and make good on the wedding gown she was wearing. He knew she wore that to mock his guilty conscience, that is if he had any left.

“I have my knights stationed at every corner of the ballroom. One action and they’ll attack.”

“You think fresh recruits could even hold a candle against a swordmaster ?” She was right, no matter how trained they would never able to best her. The only one who stood a chance against her skill was he himself. No one else.

He chuckled at her spirit, it was one of the things he adored most about her. “No. Not really.” Cecily smiled with a victorious expression but at the same time she knew if he were to use his magic, things were bound to get messy. Although not their own, but much blood would be spilt and in a room full of the empire’s finest — it wasn’t a risk she was willing to take.

a/n 2.0 – After reading this my current writing seems so crappy wtf. I guess there is a reason this took three months to write. Tho good to know I couldn’t articulate my thoughts well enough to make a respectable plot even back then. Sorry for the abrupt ending, tumblr kept glitching so I had to split it in two. I’ll upload pt.2 in a week.

[crown-of-roses-thsc]

A scene I’m super hyped to write for Crown of Roses is actually in the first chapter or so of the TCW branch. It’s the scene where she’s chewing out Henry and forcing him to jump off the airship- same as in the game- but it’s a lot longer of a rant than is in the original game.

It’s…very emotional. Moreso than it would be to a stranger, which Henry is.

But it’s not to a stranger. The scene is illustrated as an argument between Ellie and Reginald. Because that’s what this is, to Ellie- Henry is another Reginald. Another person she trusted stabbing her in the back. At the end, when it switches back to showing us Henry, we get a glimpse that she’s going off the deep end and an explanation as to why she’s so upset.

A lot of the Crown of Thorns branch is defined by Ellie’s descent into madness, paranoia, bitterness- becoming what she swore to destroy.

I genuinely think that things would have turned out differently if Lefty and Reginald had still been around (if you remember, Toppat Civil Warfare ends with both of them being hit by Henry’s spacepod). I think it was a mix of being betrayed and losing everything that put so much pressure on her…and the paranoia made her snap.

Henry is a bit crazy as well, for other reasons. He doesn’t stick around for as long as Ellie.

Needless to say, I don’t plan on pulling my punches with Crown of Thorns. I’m undecided at the moment as to whether I will have a shift in artstyle with it as well- if you recall the one panel (in chapter 8, I think?) where Ellie is drawn in a much more scribbled style, I’m considering having Crown of Thorns’s art slowly descend into that.

Unlike Crown of Roses, which is split about half and half between being angsty lighthearted, Randy is going to be one of the only sources of humor throughout it, at least I think.

[berensteinsmonster]

doodles

Hi rose ellisha :) shes so pretty i love her design alot. will post full later

Da da da daaaaaaaa, The Regal Bronzeage!!! Not to be confused with Reginald Bronzepants, who is just a regular news journalist

sketches of Lt. HRM and Henry V. the cartoony guy is such a powerhouse it's a miracle the detective can survive them

Louie Kazooie, the sheriff's right hand lady, before she was turned into a bird. The picture of Terrence Sweetheart and Reginald B as kids is just there so I can copy Terry's gold color scheme

the bird pictured there was created by me in feather family roblox game :) trying to figure out how a golden arctic dove would look like. I'll write more of her answered in an ask

[candikin]

What Your Favorite THSC Character Would Of Said About You Back In 2020 VS Now!

Henry Stickmin

Before: Oh, you just went with the safe option huh? Either that or you've played since the start

Now: You're pretty chill, and very into angst. Either you are insane about shipping him, or you are a firm believer that he's aroace

Charles Calvin

Before: ALRIGHT WE GET IT, YOU LIKE THIS ONE

Now: Yes, keep rambling to me about him <3 /srs

Ellie Rose

Before: Man, she's a underrated one! Surprised you even liked her enough to be your favorite. You must have a lot of interesting ideas for her

Now: You most likely are into women, aren't you? Women like her?

Reginald Copperbottom

Before: Hello shipping and LGBTQ+ community

Now: Hello shipping and LGBTQ+ community

Right Hand Man

Before: You are either a huge Copperright shipper or just here for nostalgia... or both

Now: You are either one of the most normal people here or one of the most crazy (positive either way)

Dave Panpa

Before: You're just like him, that's why

Now: You're just like him, that's why

Rupert Price

Before: Are you... sure he's your favorite, or do you just want to be different?

Now: Oh nope, you definitely like him. You're probably a fanfic writer. Can we be friends, because you seem interesting

Terrence Suave

Before: You like writing villains

Now: You like writing misunderstood characters or angst

Sven Svensson

Before: You're a highschool girl, who really loves shipping and definitely ship Curtisson

Now: You ship Curtisson, and a bit of a softie. I would probably love your aesthetic though

Burt Curtis

Before: Huh, you're pretty normal... unless your second favorite is Charles. If Charles is your second fav, you probably headcanon them as brothers and are insane about that dynamic

Now: You may come off as normal at first, but you're crazy /pos

[androidcharles]

More info under the read more, since it gets a bit long!

Unwatermarked so you can crosspost to any site you wish, however, please give proper credit if you do repost.

Since I haven't seen any Stickmintober prompts (or if there are any I'm stupid and haven't really looked for them), so I decided to create a prompt list for myself (mostly because a while back I told someone I'd consider hosting this).

Anyway, as a small bonus, since I know it's difficult writing a small story for 31 whole days in a row (writing like that should be saved for NaNoWriMo), I thought I'd throw in a bonus writing prompt list as well! Feel free to get creative with the prompts or if you want, use the prompts from the top list.

I will be tracking the tag #stickmintober2023 for those who participate but you can also @ me if you want to see your pieces as well. I understand this is a bit short notice, I am angry w/ myself as well for taking this long to announce something like this (HELL there's prob a better prompt list on Twitter that peeps are prob preparing for that I'm not aware of) but either way, I hope you guys enjoy this little prompt list nonetheless.

That being said, this isn't a competition! Don't burn yourself out trying to chug out equivalents of the Mona Lisa and The Last Supper everyday, just try to keep it simple, esp if it's your first time! And as always, have fun with it too!

Thanks in advance for participating!

Prompts for Screenreaders:

First Image: Stickmintober 2023 Prompt List! Day 1: Breaking the Bank Day 2: Henry Stickmin Day 3: Police Force Day 4: Escaping the Prison Day 5: Rupert Price Day 6: Dave Panpa Day 7: Stealing the Diamond Day 8: CCC Day 9: West Mesa Day 10: Charles Calvin Day 11: Infiltrating the Airship Day 12: Reginald Copperbottom/RHM Day 13: General Galeforce Day 14: Favorite Past Toppat Leader Day 15: Toppat or Government? Day 16: Ellie Rose Day 17: Fleeing the Complex Day 18: Dmitri Petrov/Grigori Olyat Day 19: Dance Day 20: Glitch Day 21: Sven Svennson Day 22: Completing the Mission Day 23: Favorite Ending Day 24: Underrated Ending Day 25: AU (favorite or your own) Day 26: OC (favorite or your own) Day 27: Silly Day 28: Angst Day 29: Favorite BG character Day 30: Costume Day 31: Halloween

2nd Image: Stickmintober 2023 Writing Edition!

Week 1 (Oct 1st-7th) Write about Henry Stickmin. Whether it's a headcanon interpretation of his past or about his life before or after certain events in canon.

Week 2 (Oct 8th-Oct 14th) Write about Toppat life. Either from the point of view of a character, minor or main or before or after certain events in canon.

Week 3 (Oct 15th-21st) Write about your interpretation of the events after an ending from Completing the Mission. Whether it's an ending you don't think about much or your favorite

Week 4 (Oct 22nd-28th) Write about the hypothetical past of a Toppat Leader of your choice. Special challenge: No Terrence or Reginald ;)

Week 5 (Oct 29th-Nov 4th) Two this time! Write a Halloween-y themed story or just a write something involving your favorite ship, rarepair or otherwise.

[indomiinus]

@fightful // planned starter

It had been several months, almost a year, since the Darkest Day and Eternatus's release and subsequent capture at the hands of the new Champion Gloria. It wasn't allowed to stay with her though, it had been swiftly quarantined because it was just reckless to leave something like that in the hands of a child, no matter how capable. It had also been months since Chairman Rose's arrest and Macro Cosmos was transferred to Leon.

It’d just been one thing after another, a nonstop roller coaster of emotions and Leon was tired. Maybe tired was an understatement.

"You don't need that pressure on top of everything else," Piers had told him while Leon sat drunk and miserable in Piers’s crappy flat in Spikemuth after a particularly rough meeting with the company board. "Let the other suits manage shit. This is just another way for Rose to screw you over; you think he gave it to you because he knew you could handle it? He gave it to you to crush you. Throw it in the bin."

And Leon thought about doing just that. He thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. It felt wasteful receiving Rose's legacy only to throw it into the trash; despite it all, he still cared about Rose and valued him and his opinions. What would Rose think? Would he be angry at Leon for squandering this "last gift?" Though, was it really a gift considering the things he’d uncovered about Rose while he was trying to get up to speed on the company?

The shady dealings, the contacts whose numbers were locked behind passwords that he couldn’t crack… It made his skin crawl somehow.

So Leon had to make his first real choice by himself. He just wished it wasn’t so hard. So Leon had to make his first real choice. There were only a select few people he trusted Macro Cosmos and the League to, and that was the Gym Leaders.

It wasn't on paper yet, and some weren't fully on board yet, but things were progressing and the interested Gym Leaders were starting to lay out and write down their requirements and ideas for the future direction of Macro Cosmos. That was a start, and Leon just had to keep the company afloat until negotiations were complete. 

He could surely do that much, right?

He was restless, lost, constantly looking to people who were just as lost as he was or just as uncertain. He did his best - but his best certainly wasn't good enough. Error after error came back, piling up on his desk and most nights Leon slept in the office that still smelled heavily of Rose's namesake even months later. It was nauseating being surrounded by nothing but reminders of complicated, sickening feelings of disgust and childish dependency and not having the time or space to sort the feelings out.

Even his own flat was decorated the way Rose had wanted it to be. He hadn't changed a thing about it. Hell, he'd barely been home to change anything.

That night though, Leon had forced himself to get out of the office and try to go home to his flat in Wyndon. 

Leon groaned, rubbing his palm across his face and rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes as he dragged himself down the quiet Wyndon streets towards Champion Crossing Station with his Mr. Rime, Reginald, guiding him.

"I'm so tired..." He complained under his breath, pulling his Rotom phone out and unlocking it. He yawned, the Rotom automatically opening up a list of currently open restaurants so he could grab something. Even if it was small, it was better than nothing. He just couldn't go to bed on an empty stomach again or else he was going to be sick in the morning. “I wonder if anywhere is even open at this hour…” Leon squinted at the screen, trying to read the offered list, but his strained reading was interrupted by a missed call notification from his mom.

"How long ago was that call?" He asked.

The Rotom hummed. "An hour." It answered cheerily. "Call back?"

Leon rubbed a palm against the side of his neck, and let out a heavy sigh. "Yeah, call back. It's so late, what's she even doing awake?" It only rang once before she answered, and he was barely able to get out a, "Hi mum," before his mother was interrupting him.

"Have you seen Hop?"

"Hop? No, I haven't, not for a while." Leon answered, scratching his chin and looking up in thought. "Have you called Gloria or Marnie?"

"Mhmm... they said they haven't seen him for a few days. I was hoping that maybe he was with you..."

Leon's stomach sank, and any amount of exhaustion he felt melted away slowly, seeping from his body like sand in an hourglass. He pressed a palm to his mouth, trying to hide the way his jaw had grown tense and his mouth had formed a thin, anxious line. "What about with Bede?" He suggested, only to be met with another negative. He sucked down a breath through his teeth and he let his hand fall from his face. "How long has he been missing? Have you tried calling him?"

"He's been gone for three days, and he isn’t answering. His Rotom just goes straight to voicemail." His mom's voice wavered. “I… I’m sure he’s just off collecting Pokemon. Maybe he’s up north… cell service is a bit spotty up there…”

Leon nodded even though some part of him felt like the whole situation was off somehow. He’d been up there plenty of times, and he’d never had signal trouble before. But if it made his mother feel better, then he would let it slide. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s fine. But, I’ll come by, okay? I’ll take a few days off, and when Hop gets back, we’ll have a nice family reunion.” Leon really hoped it would be that easy. He didn’t want to think about the worst case scenario.

His words seemed to appease his mother at least, and that was all he could ask for. 

After a quick goodbye, Leon put in his notice for time off and recalled Reginald into his ball. In the same motion, he summoned Jules. The massive Charizard, larger and sturdier than most in the region, shook his head and gave his trainer a rough nudge with his snout and rumbled low in his chest.

"We'll get to rest soon, buddy, I promise." Leon apologized, patting Jules's cheek. "We’re taking a little vacation back home and I’d like to get there quick as you can, alright?" Jules snorted, and that was all the confirmation Leon needed. Without a moment more of hesitation, he hopped onto his Charizard's back and Jules took off like a shot.

Still, that rock of fear sat heavy in his gut. Not even the cold wind rushing past him and whipping his hair about his face and back chased it away. It just felt like he was missing something. Or something was wrong.

I hope I’m just being paranoid. Maybe once I get some sleep, I’ll have a clearer head.

—

Two days passed in Postwick and still nothing from Hop.

Leon and Jules had gone out to search the area, and the police had even been called, but both avenues had turned up nothing. Well, Leon’s search hadn’t, and the police just didn’t seem that pressed about the issue. A missing kid wasn’t exactly a serious thing; sometimes kids just got the itch for adventure and ran off, and then came back months later, their wanderlust sated. But Leon and his mom knew better than that.

Hop wasn’t the type of teenager to get up and run off just because the feeling hit him. He especially wouldn’t ignore phone calls. But the police just brushed them both off, though they finally did promise to at least keep an eye out for him. Leon had never been the type to lash out physically before, but in that moment, he certainly felt like he wanted to. He’d never been dismissed so easily before, especially when it came to something like this.

His mother was inconsolable and Leon was a nervous wreck; he barely slept, spending every hour scouring the air and the countryside for Hop in hopes of spotting him or a camp of his, but there was nothing there. Leon had questioned everyone Hop knew, hoping that maybe someone had seen him, but no one had but he hadn’t pressed much harder than that before he was moving on to the next person and place. But still, Hop was missing.

He’d been missing for a week now.

It was as if Hop had simply… vanished.

Leon sat at his desk in his old childhood bedroom, Hop’s journals and maps spread out in front of him and fear and anxiety gripping his chest in a vice. He’d felt bad looking at his brother’s private thoughts and feelings, and some of them certainly hurt to read, but he wasn’t there to snoop. He was just looking for… something. Anything. Any kind of clue as to where he could have gone to. 

But there was nothing. And that was terrifying. His mouth had felt dry all day, no matter how much water or tea he drank, and his mother hadn’t stopped pacing or staring out the window since the police dismissed them both. Something was drastically wrong, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Leon groaned, hanging his head.

“Where is he…” He muttered to the air. “He can’t really have run off, could he?”

His Rotom chirped, pushing its way forward so Leon would have to look at the screen when he lifted his head. He gave it a wary look, eyes scanning the words and images on the screen and he grimaced faintly. “A… PI? What good is that going to do? Won’t he just say the same thing the cops did?” Leon questioned.

The Rotom gave the impression of a shrug. “Can it hurt to try?” It asked.

Leon sat up straighter, taking the Rotom into his hands and studying the address and reviews. “I don’t know… I guess not… I just–” Leon rubbed a hand at the side of his neck, brow furrowed. He chewed on his lower lip and pushed himself to his feet. “Alright. Alright, it’s the last legal channel I have, and then after that I’ll just have to figure something out. Even if I have to go find him by myself. Where’s that guy located at? Motostoke?”

“Yessir! I’ll set the GPS for his office.” The Rotom replied.

“Thanks.”

He grabbed his jacket on the way out, yanking it on as he took the steps two at a time. He paused by the front door, looking over at his mother, his brow furrowed. She was sound asleep on the couch, which she’d turned to face the big garden window in the living room and he felt bad leaving her alone like this without telling her to her face. All he could do was leave a note, which he stuck to the front door with some poster putty from one of the kitchen junk drawers.

‘Be back soon. Going to Motostoke, I’ll be back tomorrow.’

And with that, he was out the door.

With Jules flying him there, it didn’t take long for them to reach Kabu’s city, the Rotom tucked into the front of Leon’s jacket and spitting out directions and distance to their destination. The second it exclaimed, “Our destination is under us!”, Jules dove down lazily to land in a small convenience store parking lot so he didn’t halt traffic or cause an accident. 

Leon hopped off his Charizard’s back and recalled him immediately. The Rotom freed itself from his coat and, once it was sure Leon was following, led the way down the street. They’d landed a couple blocks away, and while Leon had hoped the walk would steady his nerves, it just made him feel even more antsy, and maybe just a bit silly somehow.

He’d never, in a million years, could have imagined he’d be hiring a private investigator. It was the kind of thing that happened in movies or books, not real life.

It felt surreal walking up to the red brick building, a cute three story building that must have been apartments at some point in time before they’d been converted into freelance offices of various sorts, and the age of the building clashed with the new-ish electric buzzer system by the door. Leon fidgeted a bit with the hem of his jacket, scanning the tags until he found what he was looking for.

OCTAVIUS GREAT, PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR

“Well…” He took a breath and let out a nervous, anxious little laugh. “Here goes…” He pressed the button and stepped back, waiting with butterflies in his stomach to get buzzed in. His Rotom stayed at his side, ready to lead him around since it was likely that Leon would end up lost just stepping into the building.

[natequarter]

tudor gothic:

the lord chancellor is called thomas. he runs the country. he wants no part in where england goes from now. the lord chancellor is being arrested for treason. the lord chancellor was executed. the lord chancellor was never arrested. there is no lord chancellor.

the crown is dissolving monasteries. this is standard practice. all the monasteries are shutting down. this is thomas's fault. you have no idea which thomas. the crown wants the monasteries back. the monasteries are never coming back. you visited an intact monastery just yesterday. when you blinked, the ruins gave alms to the poor.

the wars of the roses have just ended decisively. the wars of the roses have been over for decades. the legacy of civil war haunts england. you've watched shakespeare's wars of the roses plays. the wars of the roses must have been over when the throne passed peacefully to henry viii. when you close your eyes, you can somehow hear reginald pole laughing at you.

the duke of somerset was beheaded for treason. so was the duke of buckingham. so was the duke of northumberland. so was the duke of norfolk. so was the duke of suffolk. the duke of suffolk never lost the king's affection. all the dukes are vying for power. but then you remember: there are no dukes. perhaps there never were.

the howards are not to be trusted. thomas howard was thrown in the tower. thomas howard was executed for treason. thomas howard lived out his life peacefully. thomas howard only narrowly escaped henry viii's reign with his life. you are drowning in thomases. they never end. one thing you are certain of, though: thomas howard is long dead. thomas howard will outlive us all.

you know the names of every courtier in the kingdom, and yet more go missing with every passing day. you try to note down the name of thomas wryth, but you cannot put quill to parchment. how is it spelt? wriothesley? you have always known that. you know it deep in your bones. and yet, when you try to say it out loud, words fail you. words fail everyone, where the earl of southampton is concerned. somewhere dark and terrible, an ancient beast awakens from its slumber. like everything else, it is also called thomas.

you turn to noting down the name of the queen. kateryn parr. this is a simple task. your subconscious whispers catalina to you in a distinctly spanish accent. your hand shakes. you try to write down catherine, but it morphs into a k against your will. you drop your quill, hand trembling. nonetheless, there is a name before you. whose name it is is anyone's guess.

mary is queen. which mary? which queen? suddenly, you are not so sure.

the bible is written in latin. the bible has always been written in latin. you flick through the pages of your bible, and greek letters swim before your eyes. you check the book again, and find you are holding a book of hours. all the words are in english. you cannot read any of them.

the king of england has ruled for many years. he is nine years old. the king of england is a foreign power. elizabeth was king; now james is queen. long live queen james!

[justdiptych]

Having been ruminating on the possible link between Archie Reid of Mask of the Rose and September of Fallen London, and having been informed what a fool I am for suggesting there might be one, I've been trying to formally lay out the evidence for and against them being one and the same, and to reckon with the unavoidable uncertainties. (Some serious spoilers for both games appear below the cut.)

FOR:

Both have red hair, green eyes, and very similar facial features.

Both are written with similar accents.

Both have established connections to the Calendar Council - September is a member, of course, while Archie is familiar with May.

Both write and publish revolutionary texts.

Both have hostile relationships with Mr Pages - Archie can expose Pages as being personally responsible for the Fall of London.

September's dialogue suggests that, like Archie, he was a student in London at the time of the Fall.

AGAINST:

September's stated background - on a baronial estate near Balmoral - does not align with Archie's stated origins in Glasgow. (See below for further examination of this point.)

Unlike other Mask of the Rose characters (Griz, Horatia, Moss, Pages, Ferret, May, Reginald, Barqujin and Batachikhan), September makes no appearance at Mrs Chapman's in Fallen London.

September doesn't mention having any history of medical practice.

UNCERTANTIES:

Our knowledge of Archie's background is complicated by the fact that 'Archie Reid' is not his original identity. He was, instead, Lucian, an officer and spy who had travelled much of the world. He had tried to warn the people of London of the impending Fall and was, for his troubles, almost erased from reality by the authorities. 'Archie Reid' is what remains of him, and even he doesn't know whether everyone's memories of Archie (including his own) are true or false.

September's age is unclear. On first meeting him, the narration describes him as a 'youth', and his portrait doesn't look like a man who would be in his late fifties at the youngest. This doesn't quite agree with his own suggestion of having been in London during the Fall. If he is Archie, perhaps his theriac staved off the effects of age?

I don't recall how much elaboration we get on Lucian's background in Mask of the Rose's Reunion ending, and whether it's compatible with September's backstory. I'm also not sure whether that matters. Did the person Lucian was, and the things he did, retroactively cease to exist when he became Archie? This is very confusing, I know.

I'm not sure whether September and the Efficient Commissioner have any relevant dialogue if they're on the board of the Great Hellbound Railway together.

Putting Watson aside and putting on our Doyle moustache for a moment, it is possible that September was not originally written to be Archie but later became him. When September first appeared in Fallen London, he used a different portrait - the same one used by the non-binary portrait artist at Helicon House. His current portrait came later. Perhaps this represented a revision of his character's backstory and identity? Eh, I'm speculating aloud here.

To sum up: I dunno. It might be him. They sure look alike. If it's not him, they'd have a lot to talk about if they ever met.

[justforbooks]

Lynne Reid Banks, who has died aged 94, hit a jackpot with her first book, The L-Shaped Room (1960), the story of an unmarried middle-class girl, Jane Graham, who takes a dingy room in London to hide her unwanted pregnancy. The novel was a cracking read that caught the cusp of a momentous change in social attitudes. Its profile rose even higher when it became a film in 1962, with Leslie Caron playing its heroine. It sold in its millions and never went out of print.

This success was both a blessing and curse for Reid Banks. In the decades that followed, she published nine further novels (two of them sequels to The L-Shaped Room), two award-winning volumes of biographical fiction on the lives of the Brontës, two books about Israel and numerous books for younger readers. But nothing she wrote ever matched the acclaim for The L-Shaped Room.

Reid Banks was a dramatic and dynamic woman who lived her life with gusto. If the slights of the literary world sometimes hurt her, they never quenched the energy and passion she brought to her work. Stories flowed effortlessly from her pen, characterised by lively dialogue, well-crafted plots and compulsive readability.

The Indian in the Cupboard (1980), a children’s book she wrote for and dedicated to her youngest son, Omri, came closest to her first success, in sales, translation into 20 languages and transformation into a Hollywood film in 1995. That pleased her. But in the same year, she expressed outrage that her longstanding publishers had turned down her latest adult novel. She nevertheless found another publisher and received considerable praise for Fair Exchange (1998), a book she dedicated to her friend Norma Kitson, whose remarkable struggle against apartheid in South Africa infuses its story.

Lynne was born in Barnes, London, the only child of a Scottish doctor, James Reid Banks, and an Irish actor, Muriel (nee Marsh, who went by the stage name Muriel Alexander), and began her education at a Catholic boarding school. At the start of the second world war, aged 10, she travelled with her mother and a cousin to Canada, which she thoroughly enjoyed. On her return to London, she went to Rada, and thence began acting in provincial rep, like the heroine of The L-Shaped Room.

It was during this period that she met and enraged the young John Osborne, whose first wife, the actor Pamela Lane, was her close friend. Osborne’s letters revealed not only his dislike of her, but the probability that she inspired one of the main characters in his own first success, Look Back in Anger.

A combative streak in Reid Banks got her into spats all her life. But she was no less forthright in her judgments of herself than of others. She did not hesitate to call herself a failed actress, failed playwright (of several plays) and failed television reporter, before her true career took off.

In the doldrums, she began writing freelance journalism, and when she went to interview the head of the embryonic ITN for the Radio Times, she also talked him into employing her. She thereby became one of the first two female reporters on television in 1955. This did not satisfy her for long, however, as (she claimed) they only gave her “the rubbish” to do. When she complained, they put her into a cubbyhole and set her to work writing scripts.

Bored stiff, she began using ITN’s stationery supplies and time to start work on her first novel. She later recalled how the newsreader Reginald Bosanquet would read a page off her typewriter in mocking amusement. But the laugh was on Reggie when the Evening Standard later ran the headline: “ITN girl sells film script for £25,000.” The real sum for The L-Shaped Room was £20,000, but that was still princely in those days.

She was not happy with the film, which changed the book’s story. It was a hit, but it took her 30 years to forgive the director, Bryan Forbes. It also infuriated her that people assumed she had written of single motherhood from personal experience, rather than imagination. Although on the crest of a wave of fame, money and success, Reid Banks left the country and did not return for a decade.

She had met the man whom in 1965 she was to marry, the Israeli sculptor Chaim Stephenson, while he was visiting Britain. She was not Jewish, but she went out to Israel and loved it, becoming an Israeli citizen. The couple lived on a kibbutz near the Sea of Galilee, and their three sons were born there.

It surprised but delighted her, soon after her arrival in Israel, to be asked to leave her hot, tiring work in the vineyards to teach English to a class of children. She threw herself into this new occupation with zeal, relishing the chance to use her acting skills, and achieved outstanding results.

But as the years went by, she missed Britain, and in the early 1970s she came back, the family settling uncomfortably at first in the London suburbs, but later living happily in a farmhouse in Beaminster, Dorset, and later still settling in Shepperton in Surrey. Her output of books for children continued (she produced many sequels and series), and she travelled, gardened and wrote for newspapers.

Chaim died in 2016. Reid Banks is survived by her sons, Adiel, Gillon and Omri, and her grandchildren, Daniel, David and Paloma.

🔔 Lynne Reid Banks, writer, born 31 July 1929; died 4 April 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[the-irken-luxray]

Hellooo because I forgot about the whiteboard until like midnight of the expiration date I didn’t get the chance to gather final screenshots so many of people’s additions didn’t make the final post. These are all the most recent versions of the drawings I could find (and in some cases I had to edit them together)

Featuring additions from @/kursed-curtain, @/flowerbarrel-art, and numerous others (feel free to brag in the notes if you see yourselves!)

[ID 1: a bust of Jenny Coffield, a stick figure oc with short, wavy hair, a top hat adorned with multiple spheres, and a burn scar on her head, showing off a “top bomb”, a top hat shaped object with a fuse sticking out the top. Tagline text reads “it explodes in the shape of a top hat”. Around the bomb are golden sparkles and captions reading “SO COOL!”, “WOW!”, and “FUN SHAPE!!”. Below the bomb is a diagram comparing a standard cartoon bomb, captioned in red with “LAME” and an X mark, with the top bomb, captioned in green with “COOL”. To the left of Jenny is three Toppats sitting around a meeting table. Two Toppats look impressed, one saying “wow!” and the other saying “We should use that”. The third Toppat looks annoyed and says “This is a stupid meeting.” End ID]

This one is probably my fav out of the bunch, just for the collaboration aspect.

[ID 2: a full body doodle of Reginald Copperbottom grinning evilly while holding a gun. Blue text reads “autism be damned my boy can kill”. A small doodle of someone’s Toppat sona or OC fawns over Reginald with multiple floating hearts. They have a bullet behind them with a red trail mark, as though they were shot with Reginald’s gun. Adjacent is a generic stick figure who is getting shot in the head. Text pointing to the stick figure reads “the cringe”. Yellow writing reads “ding dong the wicked cringe is dead”. End ID.]

At least one Reginald is mandatory. People got silly with this one.

[ID 3: a mouthless stick figure looks confused and mildly uncomfortable while looking at the viewer. Text next to them reads “my darling”, “precious blorbo”, and “beloved”. Below the text is a blob with eyes and no mouth in a happy expression, with writing reading “blorbo!” The stick figure is holding up a sign that says “I am literally just text????” End ID.]

Okay yeah you should know who this is by now

Gave them a Wile E. Coyote type sign because it fits the whole “no mouth can’t speak” type thing they’ve got going on.

[ID 4: a doodle of Jenny’s head with text reading “Your Toppat weapon ideas HERE!” Below is a drawing of Pike Cassino, a stick figure with a top hat decorated with slot machine wheels and horns, a gold tooth, and whiskery facial hair. a speech bubble pointing to him reads “Maybe a gun that doesn’t blast me back when I fire it…” Below the prompt text is a doodle of a glittering, gold cannon labeled “solid gold cannon”. Next to it is Jenny looking annoyed with a thought bubble reading “At least I’m paid well”. End ID.]

There were a LOT more additions to this prompt than I ended up grabbing, but with how spread out they were, there would be an additional five screenshots or so just to get them all.

[ID 5: a bust of Jenny waving an aromantic flag with a caption reading “aro gang”. Next to her is a drawing of a character labeled Harley, who has a heart shaped top hat and bangs, with a Toppat clan logo on their jacket and a paw on their hand. Harley waves to Jenny and is captioned with “aro gang!” End ID.]

Another that is sadly a lot smaller than its final version. The aro gang used to be bigger.

[ID 6: 3 images of a doodle of Ellie Rose. First image is of a head shot of Ellie. Second image is text reading “world’s smallest Ellie” with an arrow pointing to an indistinguishable doodle. Third image is the previous doodle zoomed in to show a very small head shot of Ellie, approximately the size of the tip of the arrow. End ID.]

World’s smallest Ellie.

[ID 7: A whiteboardfox drawing with a thick border around it, as though it’s an external image that’s been copy-pasted. The drawing is of Burt Curtis, a stick figure with headphones and a top hat, stylized. Here he has messy, wavy, short hair and highlights in his eyes. He’s reading a magazine titled “#3 ACTion”. To the left is a frog-with-glasses icon with text reading “gotta get sillier with my art”.

To the right of the copy-pasted drawing is a frog with glasses on his hands and knees, with the glasses lenses opaque to hide his eyes. Text below reads “just found out my drawing didn’t save can’t have shit on whiteboard”. End ID.]

Yeah so I was… struggling with this one. The frog in the top left was originally a thing I tried to add to ALL my additions up make them easier to find. But because of WiFi issues, not only did none of them save, but half my Burt drawing was gone too. Fortunately, because I was already struggling bad with it, I had the foresight to screenshot the drawing once I was done with it.

[ID 8: a doodle of Reginald Copperbottom with his hands on his hips while smoking a giant blunt. To the right is a drawing of Reginald in the family guy death pose with a caption above reading “bad at smokign” [sic]. Below the whole thing is text in parentheses reading “(whiteboard if you’re gonna react my art please for the love of god let it be this one)”. End ID.]

Drawn immediately after the previous one. No further context needed.

[consanguinitatum]

Today is the 67th anniversary of the iconic film 12 Angry Men...

Did you know David Tennant was in a production of this play at drama school in 1990, and he used an American accent?

He sure was!

He was Juror 8, the role Henry Fonda portrayed in the film version.

I write more about that here:

...but I intend to do a deeper dive into the play at a future date.

Subscribe for free and stay tuned!

--

Here's some history of the play, from this Twitter thread which I STRONGLY encourage you to read in its entirety:

"In the early 1950s, TV writer Reginald Rose served as a jury member on a manslaughter case. Inspired by his experience, he wrote a teleplay called 12 Angry Men as a one-hour drama. It aired on CBS in September 1954, directed by Franklin J. Schaffner.

One viewer was Henry Fonda, one of Hollywood’s biggest stars. Seeing potential for a movie, Fonda got in touch with Rose and the two agreed to co-produce a film adaptation. Fonda did not like the experience and the film was his first and last producer credit.

Around that time, Delbert Mann’s Marty was a huge success. That movie was also adapted from a teleplay and studios were looking for other TV projects to mine. So when Fonda and Rose pitched 12 Angry Men, United Artists snapped it up immediately.

Looking for a suitable director, Fonda approached Sidney Lumet due to his work on TV show Studio One. Lumet was a young filmmaker with a great reputation as a TV director, and jumped at the chance to break into movies.

As part of the deal, Fonda agreed to star as well as co-produce, taking on the role of Juror 8. And both he and Rose agreed to defer their salaries, meaning they wouldn’t make any money unless the movie made money."

[bizarrebazaar13]

it’s my birthday so I’m rambling about the references/whitsun eggs in this fic I wrote for the gift exchange. under the cut for length, minor light fingers spoilers, alcohol discussion, and spoilers for the story brass grail.

The paper itself hardly puts him in a good mood, either. Its featured story of the evening concerns a zeppelin full of Rubbery Men seen flying over Watchmaker’s Hill. They stopped briefly to deliver an item to a person identified only as V.K., and are thought to have come from the Roof itself. This V.K. is apparently known to have strong ties with devils, something that the paper finds delightfully scandalous and Reginald finds quite alarming.

V.K. is Vela Kepler, who is referred to by zir initials for two reasons: to mimic the game’s style of referring to people as “Lady R___” “Dr F____” etc., and because if the train was coming is not about my ocs, so I wanted to avoid introducing entirely new characters to people who might not be familiar with my ocs. especially since Vela’s only appearance is this brief cameo in the newspaper.

the zeppelin of rubbery men is a light fingers reference! after the roof section of the story, the player collects materials for the hybrid’s birth, one of which is stalactite-nectar delivered by their dirigible crew. Vela’s crew was made up of rubberies.

He’ll revisit his notes at home, where the cloying (and oddly floral-scented) smoke of the Moloch Street train doesn’t fill his lungs and burn all the way down.

Milton, a devil from mask of the rose, is mentioned to smoke rose-scented cigars. I liked the idea of devils being associated with roses, and wanted to make the train weirder. so, floral smoke.

He has wondered, too, if irrigo might erase only specific memories. If Michael could be made to forget certain bargains.

confession: I haven’t actually played Brass Grail, which is where the majority of Reginald’s backstory for this fic comes from. my knowledge of it comes from the lore wiki and anonymous asks I sent to @irrigos while writing this.

The Bishop glances around, and seeing no prying eyes, says, “No one here is an ambassador. Most of them aren’t even sanctioned by the Brass Embassy. They’re fugitives, particularly daring tourists, curious academics, all sorts. Look at their faces. You’ll see.” Reginald does. The devils here look much less human than those roaming the streets outside; goat horns curl from foreheads, antennae sticks out of hair, compound eyes glitter in the candlelight, lips curl around fangs considerably larger and more conspicuous than is permitted in semi-polite society.

this vignette takes place in a bar whose patronage is almost entirely infernal. in the game, we see diplomats and politicians and ambassadors of hell, but very few non-governmental devils, and no one who isn’t there for the soul trade. the idea of devils who don’t change themselves to look human, or look less human than the diplomats, was something I’d been thinking about for a while.

the bar itself is a vulnerability for the devils. it’s an entry point into London that can be shut down, and it’s also a place where the deception and snake oil salesman charm typically associated with hell is lifted, at least partly. the rare honesty of this place is, I think, what keeps Reginald from immediately trying to close it.

“I heard rumors,” he continues, “about the campaign of ‘68. And a certain man lost to the devils.” He pauses, drains the last of his sherry in one gulp. “It was a long shot, I know, but I had hoped he might show up here. He sounded... determined, from what a certain loquacious vicar told me.”

my experience with Michael’s characterization is limited; I’ve talked about him to Reginald in mask of the rose, and heard about him in brass grail. that said, he does in fact strike me as someone who might show up to an infernal dive bar.

The Bishop does some sort of word puzzle, penciling letters into boxes on flame-proof paper.

he’s doing a crossword. they weren’t invented as we know them until 1913, but it’s not unreasonable to think the devils would have them, given their already anachronistic 20s fashion. hence the flame-proof paper.

this also further highlights a key difference between the two bishops: while I do think the bishop of st fiacres is genuinely devout, he’s adapted to the more flexible christianity of the neath, to the point of accepting crosswords from the devils. Reginald very decidedly has not.

“Fancy a drink?” the Bishop asks. “No devils this time.” “It’s one in the afternoon,” Reginald points out, but he doesn’t say no.

this fic involved a surprising amount of googling about alcohol rules for anglican priests. conclusion: the bar scene is apparently permissible (excluding the literal devils). the implied day drinking that happens at the end probably wouldn’t fly, but this is the neath.