#Sleight Of Hand

[vavoom-sorted-art]

Sleight Of Hand - Chapter 1: The Pledge

@moonyinpisces and I proudly present Chapter 1 of “Sleight Of Hand”: The Pledge!

Read on Ao3 (with extra Comic pages!)

Early release of comic pages as well as sketches and uncensored Versions on my Patreon.

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“It’s our last night on Earth,” Crowley says, voice wrung together in chapped, rusted parts. “Six thousand years of this. Of never– of not getting to– *eurgh!”* Uncaring of the styling, Crowley runs frantic hands through his hair, mussing it up in tight, torturous fists. “Six thousand years. And it’s a bloody *photograph* that does us in.” 

His eyes are golden, molten in the warm, ambient light. The pulse at his long, taut neck is fluttering like a trapped bird, the skin there thin, delicate. “Hm,” Aziraphale says distractedly, without thinking too much of it. “I’d always thought it would’ve been what we’d got up to at Job’s.”

Crowley zeroes in on Aziraphale, at that point. All of this has been musings to himself, of attacks towards nobody in particular. Perhaps God. Most likely God. But now he’s not looking at God, and he’s looking at Aziraphale instead. It sets Aziraphale on edge, prickles the angelic sense at the back of his neck. It quickens his pulse, settles the heat of his body decidedly southward. But more than that, perhaps most of all; it makes Aziraphale be as reminded of Crowley’s human body as he is of his own, at this exact moment. 

The demon takes a step forward. Aziraphale, a stuttered step back. His fingers are curled into the top of his opposite sleeve, tips brushing the edge of the polaroid he’d nearly grabbed.

“Calm down, Crowley,” he says waveringly. 

“Calm *down?*” Crowley repeats quietly, dangerously. He’s looking Aziraphale in the eye, now. He’s looking nowhere else. 

Another step. Forward, back. Aziraphale licks his lips. 

“It’s all going to be alright, my dear boy,” he tries. He clears his throat, shifts his fingers further into his sleeve. “You see–”

He’s cut off. Quick as a flash, Crowley’s gripping him around the shoulders, shoves him back so his arse is pressed to the lip of the vanity, the lit-up mirror alighting him from behind. Aziraphale’s arms draw up around the demon’s shoulders in surprise. There’s nowhere else to go, no more steps to take. The look in Crowley’s eye speaks of a hunger all-too-familiar to Aziraphale. Reminiscent of meat, of basements, of languishing drunkenly at the end of another man’s Earth. Behind Crowley’s head, Aziraphale has the photograph clenched in one hand. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whispers. 

“Don’t–” Crowley’s expression is fierce, desperate. “Don’t say *anything–*” 

Aziraphale opens his mouth to say something else.

*“Angel.”* Crowley makes a desperate sort of sound, and then their lips are pressed together, and Aziraphale freezes altogether. 

---

Keep reading

[tabletopresources]

by Tatyana Kupriyanova

Check out Tabletop Gaming Resources for more art, tips, and tools for your game!

[thelikesoffinn]

If you bother me, I'll get my boyfriend to pick your lock and kill you in your sleep.

The boyfriend:

[procrastiel]

All I’m saying is this:

Neil created s2 to set up everything that needs to happen in s3.

He literally orchestrated an event for us (much like the ball) to see in the next season. So yes, I do believe there are Clues hidden in s2.

[jotun-philosopher]

How Aziraphale did the trick

...or at least, how I *think* Aziraphale did the photo/leaflet switch, based on hazy recollections of the scene in question, reading Expert at the Card Table, quite a bit of thought and some practical experimentation.

With no DVD of s2 available at time of writing, and my Prime Video free trial having long expired (can't quite justify the cost of a subscription if I'd only be using it for one show), I'm basing this hypothesis on my recollections of the dressing room scene, bolstered by gifs I've seen around tumblr (which I have highly variable luck finding in the gif search thingy...) -- the possibility that I've misremembered something that renders my whole hypothesis null is therefore high, so I absolutely welcome and encourage commentary from folks who know a heck of a lot more about sleight-of-hand (and remember the dressing room scene better!) than I do.

With that out of the way... On with the motley!

We start with Crowley sprawling on the sofa while Azzy is bopping happily around to the left (as one faces the door) but on a diagonal such that Crowley can't see him from the side, a 'Ladies Of Camelot' leaflet tucked into his left sleeve or an inner pocket of his jacket as a souvenir of the evening. Enter Furfur and the Nazi Zombie Flesh-Eaters, bearing The Photograph!

Ineffable 'oh crap!' reaction!

Crowley holds on to the photo for a while (possibly imagining having it on display in a nice frame in the living room of a seaside cottage???), then hands photograph and envelope to Aziraphale, who cottons on to the danger immediately.

While Crowley (in his role as Glamorous Assistant, albeit in a snazzy suit rather than a spangly leotard) provides a distraction for Furfur and the Nazis (this bit's important -- I'm not 100% sure the trick would've worked otherwise) and vice versa, Aziraphale retrieves the Ladies Of Camelot leaflet from whichever part of his clothing he's stashed it in and slips it into the envelope, keeping it folded over so as to be less visible and using the envelope itself, as well as the photograph, as extra physical barriers.

Furfur finishes bickering with Crowley and demands the photograph back. Aziraphale --

Banana fish gorilla shoelace with a dash of nutmeg

-- appears to slip the photograph back into the envelope, but actually slips it *between* himself and the envelope, holding it gently in place with his left thumb and buying a few extra seconds to adjust its position by pulling the envelope closer to himself. He makes a showy, elaborate gesture with his right hand (I am convinced that that was a misdirection intended at least as much for us as for his in-universe audience), neatly palming the photograph in his left hand as he takes the envelope in his right and hands it to Furfur, who smugly backstabs the Nazis and buggers off back to Hell. (Furfur doesn't strike me as having the intelligence or imagination to look for signs that Az might've pulled something; if he did, he'd've checked the envelope in the dressing room, and certainly before handing it to Dagon)

***

This is how I personally think Aziraphale did the trick -- a careful rewatch (yo ho ho!) of the scene in question at the very least does not contradict it, though it did highlight that I'd got Furfur's arguing with Crowley about the War In Heaven mixed up with the far briefer moment of distraction that lets Az make the switch, giving him less time than I'd thought. The basic physical procedure that I proposed above is plausible, if nothing else; I have made practical experiments in replicating it (props pictured below) and they've panned out well enough (though not at anything like the speed Az would've used).

Props: A5 envelope, RNLI thingy that seemed to be about the right size, hastily scribbled replica of The Photograph

The envelope and leaflet are somewhat larger than their in-show analogues, but they were the best I could find quickly.

Bonus: a closer look at the replica photo, feat. my left hand:

Cool, eh? XD

This highlights, to me, the plausibility of my idea that Aziraphale palmed the photograph -- the photo would'v'e been approximately 3.5in/side, while the replica is drawn on a piece of paper that's 3 7/8 in/side, and my hands are very likely smaller than Michael Sheen's, making a successful palm very feasible. Furthermore, given the fast-moving situation and his being under observation, I doubt he'd've had time to do anything else, and on rewatching there's no indication in his hand movements that he did anything other than palming.

***

And in case I have in fact messed something up and need correcting:

(OK, mostly including this gif 'cos I love the 'You were right' dance XD)

[theoutcastrogue]

The Card Trick (1880-1889)

Bluffing (1885)

by John George Brown (American genre painter, 1831-1913)

[natewantstobattle-lyrics-daily]

"I could never say / the words it takes to make your heart break / and I can't live it down / so I'll live it up for you / I could never write / a line that shines as bright as your eyes / and I can't hold it up / so I'll lay it down for you."

- sleight of hand

[egopoiesis-art]

Put them all together for posterity. My style over the years... good lord 😭

[mckitterick]

Sheep spend their lives fearing the wolf, only to be eaten by the shepherd.

- ancient proverb

[doubledynamicentry]

🥊🪷NEON CARD TRICK🪷🥊

[anerianaa]

Why is Astarion using Sleight of Hand on my Tav's a$$??? I mean they already spent a couple of nights together. He only needs to ask, 😭 what the heck.

[vavoom-sorted-art]

Sleight of Hand - Chapter 3: The Prestige

(tumblr will nuke each and every single page of this, so you besties only get a cropped cover. go to Ao3 or Patreon to see the full versions)

Only the most premium of premium porn can do @moonyinpisces’ writing justice, which is why this chapter took so damn long, but now it’s finally here!

All the comic pages are on Ao3 and the full uncensored version on my Patreon!

“Aziraphale,” Crowley whispers brokenly. The way he says it… it sounds like Song of Songs. It sounds like Twelfth Night. It sounds– holy. 

The polaroid is face-up beside Crowley’s head, just inches away. Aziraphale leans down and kisses him, uses the distraction to carelessly throw it out to the center of the room before the guilt stalls him altogether. It’s not about hiding it from Crowley, not now. No, it’s that Aziraphale can’t bear to look at their faces when Crowley’s watching him openly, trustingly, knowing that he doesn’t deserve the automatic faith that he’s been given. The devotion to deception, to lies. Aziraphale kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him until it’s the only thing he can think about.

Soon, the sounds leaving Crowley’s lips become formless, shapeless. He thrusts up erratically, increasingly quick and shallow. “Oh, angel, I’m–”

“Say it,” hisses Aziraphale into his open mouth. 

“Ah–” Crowley writhes in place. Tries, “Aziraphale–”

“No,” Aziraphale replies, bearing down harder and fluttering his eyes closed, brows tight. “The other thing. Say–”

“I– oh,” Crowley fumbles his hands up, pressing at the curve of his cheek, the nape of his neck. The words jumble out in inconsistent sizes and shapes, like he’d never voiced them aloud before. Didn’t know if demons could manage it before tonight, if beings materialized from hell’s machinery could communicate feelings so pure, so good to this magnitude. If Crowley can manage it without discorporating entirely. 

He can. He says them over and over until they constitute their own language. A babbling brook, an unending stream. Aziraphale feels like he’s overflowing with too many emotions to ever quite name. Despite everything, though, he says them right back. 

With a last forceful thrust of his hips, hands shaking on Aziraphale’s body and head thrown back in a silent sob, Crowley comes.

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Keep reading on Ao3

Thanks for coming along for the ride and thank you moony for the amazing collab! It was super fun to adapt your writing into a comic!!

[space-blue]

Average midgame Astarion experience

[sambirdyanim8]

Walk / trot cycle of my OC Raymond the Ioheliorath. Isn't he cute?

[googlyeyesonmagiccards]

The goose knows what up because the goose is in on it

[theoutcastrogue]

In 1584, Reginald Scot published The Discoverie of Witchcraft, a book that sought to debunk the whole idea of magic – though not the supernatural in general [it ain't a witch or a fairy, but it could be a miracle from god!]. He said that people who claim to be witches are either frauds, fully aware that they don't possess any supernatural ability, or mentally ill, suffering from "melancholie" due to an imbalance of the humours. This was mostly about people concocting herbal remedies and potions and such, or casting curses and "an evil eye", claiming or thought to invoke fairies and assorted supernatural elements in the process. But there was another kind of magic.

"After dismissing the belief in witchcraft and related supernatural ideas, he then described how certain people employed tricks to deceive people. Though the discussion was intended to reveal what he considered to be frauds and cheats, it was really one of the first textbooks on the art of magic, and the tricks he described are still performed by modern magicians on stages all over world. He didn't call it magic. It called it juggling, using that older and broader sense of the word juggle as a magical or incredible feat [N.B. as opposed to the modern sense of tossing objects in the air]. For example, he described the sleight of hand used in card magic like the use of false shuffles and the way a card player manipulates the deck to control the location of certain cards in the deck. He described how people made coins and little balls disappear in their hands through misdirection, and he described an early version of "cups and balls" where the conjuror makes balls appear and disappear under various cups through misdirection and sleight of hand. He also described how to make a coin appear to pass through a table or disappear into a handkerchief. He described how conjurors used boxes with false bottoms to create an illusion in which one type of grain in the box appeared to change into a completely different type of grain. And he even described how to use a fake blade to give the appearance of passing a knife through a persons arm or tongue. Throughout the discussion, Scot emphasized that these were merely tricks, and not actual magic or witchcraft." – Kevin W. Stroud, The History of English Podcast Episode 168: "Witches, demons, and fairies"

In the book, the chapter on "the art of juggling" presents several categories of magic tricks:

cups and balls (a precursor to the shell game)

coin tricks

card tricks

fast and loose

various illusions and cons

various sleight of hand tricks

body horror: fake sword swallowing (there's a very real version, which is not examined here), passing a knife through your hand or a ring through your cheek, presenting someone's head on a plate, etc (see pics!)

The Internet Archive has the 1584 edition here, and a much more easily readable 1886 edition here (chapter starts at page 321).