#Using Wrong Hashtags

[muppetfreak]

Mr. Riordan, it is truly a pleasure getting to experience your second draft.

[chocolatesaladlove]

9 Common Twitter Marketing Mistakes to Avoid in This Year

If you want to grow your business on Twitter, here are nine Twitter marketing common mistakes you want to avoid this year

[wakuseicloset]

so badly i could die

[themintman]

reminding myself that Nurm is actually just a cluster of cubes and not this silly goober I imagined 😖😖

[originalwinnerfanfish]

Guys have no instinct for self-preservation

I really like @alexkittyandra characters, but Chicken is definitely my favourite)

I believe that Chicken of the woods and Saffron could be good friends, sharing a common love of cooking and finding new ingredients. I also have a hadcanon, that, being a favorite delicacy of lizards, they really like to consume their eggs

[liesmyth]

my locked tomb hot take of the day is that the way Harrow’s symptoms are presented in HtN line up much more closely with religious OCD with poor insight and psychotic features than schizophrenia. She shows almost no signs of paranoia or delusions (G1deon really was trying to kill her! It’s absolutely true that the other houses would swoop in like vultures if they knew her house’s true position! Her sword and psyche were both actually haunted, to the point that Alecto could hitch a ride in her body. She is never shown in the text to hold a belief that is inconsistent with reality, IMO) and her only true psychotic symptom that we see is hallucinations, and she seems to most of the time have some idea that they aren’t real, which indicates a level of self awareness incompatible with schizophrenia. She also doesn’t seem to display many cognitive symptoms like thought block or disorganized speech and thinking. The rest of her behavior is highly obsessive (compulsive praying, wearing face paint even when nobody is around, obsessive studying, needing her food to be arranged on her plate a certain way) and is very in line with someone suffering from religious scrupulosity. As someone who has experienced both OCD and psychosis, and knows how the symptoms can overlap, this is is the hill I will die on.

I don't feel like I can contribute in any meaningful way to your points, so I'll just put this out into the world and say that I appreciate your insights!

Speaking from a #meta perspective: I know that around the time HtN came out, Tamsyn gave interviews talking about her own experiences being hospitalised for mental health reasons and implied that was what she was partly drawing on when writing HtN. I can't remember if she called Harrow schizophrenic or stated that it was her intention to write her as such, and the author is dead anyway. Plus, obviously, the fact that someone's writing was informed by irl experiences doesn't have to mean that said writing is a 1:1 parallel for those experiences, expecially in a sff setting where ghosts exists and in fact there's something that Harrow can see and nobody else can.

TO ME, the fact that people who experience psychotic episodes can recognise themselves in Harrow's internal monologue and experiences is more meaningful than whether Harrow “really” has a given specific disorder or she's just seeing ghosts. The point is that SHE feels a disconnect from reality and that she's delusional and cannot trust anything she remembers or reads. Nobody in-universe is ever going to diagnose her, you know? The series itself doesn't claim to be straight-up representation for any specific named issues — things like Cytherea's cancer or Harrow's mental state are left ambiguous and partly influenced by magic. I think the fact that readers can relate to some symptoms some characters experience is more meaningful than whether these symptoms all point to something that can be diagnosed unambiguously.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me!

[noordzee]

oh heck oh dang it's Make a Terrible Comic Day 2024??? here, have a bad comic about drawing an anime girl in a work meeting and feeling simultaneous triumph and ennui about it

[lesspopped]

I will see a fictional war criminal and say “is anyone gonna get him pregnant” and not wait for an answer

[forcebookish]

and can i just say that i hate her character development lol

[leibi97]

*whispers*

It's Szyslak, not Syzlak.

[steinbit]

finally had to bite the bullet and buy a new laptop since my old one is Literally just hanging on by a single hinge and a hope and it's SUCH a paaain setting up and transferring all my shit to the new one 😔

[flecks-of-stardust]

fixing cables is annoying. i just spent 30 minutes on five rows : D

[chocodaffodil]

izuleo :D

Day 1: Retro! (was for IzuLeo week on Twitter)

reference under the cut

[sammygender]

the thing thats always missing in conversations about gender in general is the fact that 'cis', as an identity, is not a innate Thing Some People Are, but rather a state of acceptance society grooms us into from birth

[racerno42]

Lemonposting again but how was Acer able to pull all these carts? How did he collect so many that fast, and if he just took them wouldn't they be full or bags and heavier?

[fritzyfluffington]

Broken Path

> Astarion x F!Tav (Redemption Durge version. People on Larian’s forum told me they’re the same but with more content in the case of Durge 🤷‍♀️)

> Warnings: Nothing really? Blood and gore and amnesia. Words like “squelch” used to amp up the discomfort. Lamentation over corpses and their lack of usefulness when it comes to opening locked doors. Astarion flipping out because our protagonist is a walking filth monster. Use of the word beach instead of calling it a riverbank.

> Word count: All? Many? 4,700-ish?

> Summary: Another retelling of some of the beginning of the game. Lily wakes up and stumbles around on the sandy riverside beachy area with no shoes. She meets her inner dragon. Astarion treats her as though she spawned from a trash bin. Just an average day in the warped and heavily modded playthrough that I’ve been given the pleasure of watching 🤭

I want to preface this real fast. This is my writing of my friend’s stupidly modded game. I like to watch while she plays and we bounce ideas of what could be happening in between fights or in between cutscenes. I haven’t played this game even though I love DnD (I don’t have a computer). @tavamarie proofread Astarion to make sure I got him semi-right. Blame her! It’s not my fault! 😅

Haven’t written in around ten years so I’m a bit rusty. Be kind to me ❤️

She was tired. So tired. It felt as if she had been hit in the head with a rock or maybe one of the boys had smacked her with their practice swords again. Her vision was a bit cloudy, and her mouth tasted of bitter metal, gritty and unpleasant.

Lily winced as she touched a spot near her temple and pulled her hand away, blinking a few times to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. Blood, thick as though it was old, oozed down her fingers as she watched. It felt as if the entire world had gone wrong…red…

“I’osi!!!” Lily cried out, taking off like a shot in the direction of her home, wiping at the blood that kept running into her eyes. The boys were going to be in so much trouble! Her legs were long for an eight-year-old, easily foretelling that she would be tall like her mother and father. They enabled her to sprint much faster than her brothers.

But…hadn’t she passed out? They had probably already gotten home and told Osu a lie…

Lily heard the sound of a woman’s laughter. It was ear piercingly maniacal, making her head hurt as though it was going to split apart.

Maybe it hadn’t been the boys that hurt her? Maybe it had been the village kids? Again…. Why couldn’t she remember anything? Her temper flared and she used the tiniest bit of magic to make herself faster. Just a touch so the Wildness wouldn’t come to call. She sprinted as fast as her legs would carry her, smelling smoke on the wind. Panic grew within her as the smell grew stronger.

Lily counted the cobbles on the way to the garden. Counting so she knew when to turn onto the hidden path. She felt her heart in her throat as the cottage came into view. Was that blood? Smoke billowed out of the windows, and she screamed at the scene before her in absolute denial. Lily called for her grandmother again, not paying attention as she barreled forward, tripping on a stone that was partially unearthed. The world faded from her view as she fell backwards, crying out in horror when she noticed…the sky…there was a spider-like creature staring back at her where there should have been stars.

She screamed as it bent its great spiked head to devour her.

Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt? Lily opened her eyes, hesitating briefly as the image from her dream was still fresh in her mind. She really didn’t want to look up and find a creature covered in spikes and horns staring down at her with its’ multiple legs poised to pounce. In her dream, she had thought it a spider? No…no spider was that frightening.

Shuddering, Lily finally sat up with a groan, looking around at the nearly pristine river in front of her. If not for the random flaming Nautiloid parts, she almost felt she wouldn’t mind staying. Almost, save for the dire sense of urgency she felt inside her chest. Her shaky legs stumbled as she stood up and began the slow walk down the beach. It felt as though she hadn’t been on her feet in a long time, or perhaps she had been on them too much. The thought felt like an ice pick through her brain and Lily placed a hand to her head. Her skin felt hot, flushed and sweaty. Her lips and tongue felt parched and dry.

She tripped, her foot catching against something solid and an all too familiar smell filled her nostrils. Death. Looking down, Lily stared into the unblinking eyes of a corpse. One of many that was littering the beach amidst all the wreckage.

‘Fools should have gotten out of the way faster!’ No…no, this was a terrible waste of life. Someone should mourn for these poor men and the families that they left behind.

So, why was a part of her mind mocking them? Worse yet, why was that part of her smiling at the death and decay that surrounded her? Why did that voice, sounding very much like her own, encourage her to rip and tear into the bodies, to drink their cooled and coagulated blood and revel in their gore? She swallowed back her nausea, looking away from the dead and continued down the sandy shore. The more dead she saw, the faster she forced herself to walk, lurching along the path in an almost panicked state.

It made her feel claustrophobic. This feeling that she shared her mind with something that wasn’t her. Something that wanted to lock her away so it could use her body for its own purposes.

‘What in Gods name is wrong with me?’ She felt a trickle of blood as it oozed down her forehead and started questioning whether or not she was dreaming again.

But no… this didn’t feel like a dream. If it was it was extremely detailed. She could smell the scents around her, which wasn’t a good thing in most cases considering her current surroundings. Much of the smoke that filled the area smelled of burning chemicals, flesh or hair. It made Lily’s eyes water and stung her nose when she was forced to pass through it.

Her bare feet were hurting, from the sand beneath them or something else she had stepped on she wasn’t sure. On parts of the Nautiloid, she suppressed a shudder as the ground seemed to be made of flesh. She barely noticed as she stepped on fragments of metal and bone, as well as sharp rocks. Her feet bled freely, but Lily’s concern was elsewhere. The feeling that she had been on this ship before it exploded was overwhelming and she was extremely glad that she couldn’t remember the experience. If the entire thing felt like walking around inside a living creature's innards, she never wanted the memories back, honestly.

After an hour, time she had spent diligently rooting around through discarded barrels, crates and the occasional backpack, she came upon an ancient looking building. Lily paused, looking up at the worn stone brick of the stairs leading up to the massive wooden door of this…..was this a temple?

Perhaps there were priests within that could assist her as she was definitely unwell.

Unsteadily, she limped slowly up the steps, not noticing the bloody footprints she was leaving behind in her wake. The steps weren’t steep but her legs still trembled as she climbed them. Finally reaching the door, Lily grasped the handle and tried to open it. It didn’t budge.

She banged on the door with a balled fist, feeling an unfamiliar sense of desperation coil in her chest. Moments passed and she finally pulled her hand back, surprised that it had bruised slightly from her pounding on the door.

‘Am I dying?’ the desperation within her was slowly becoming something very similar to anger.

She chewed her bottom lip as she stared at the door. It was, to put it simply, very extremely, impossibly locked. She had lockpicking kits that she had found in a backpack but…. Judging from how confused she was by the contents of them, she doubted she was ever skilled in their use.

Honestly, the only thing on this beach she had felt familiar with was the corpses and though the idea of smashing a dead body into the door repeatedly was funny on some levels….

Lily turned from the door and sat on the steps, placing her head in her hands. A fire had started within her, anger filling her belly at the ever-present confusion filling her mind. Why was she here? What had happened to her? Was there no one that could help her?

‘Am I going to die here?’ she wiped away more blood from her forehead again, noting that the slightest movement was now causing dizziness. Her arms trembled as she leaned back against the steps, allowing the small breeze from across the river to cool her body. Was her fever getting worse?

“It’ll be dark soon,” she said to no one, “I guess I should figure out shelter…” Was that her voice? It sounded so pleasant and rather pretty, not fitting at all for how she felt. Lily looked around, noticing a couple of barrels that she had missed, tucked next to the steps up to the temple. Supplies for the temple, maybe? Was it wrong to steal from monks or priests or whomever resided here? Well…they hadn’t helped her so she would help herself. Maybe increase her odds of survival?

She stood, stretching her aching muscles a bit before stumbling her way down the steps. The barrels were sealed, though the seals were easy enough to break. They were also a general disappointment, containing sacks of rotten fish and old vegetables. The only good things that she managed to find were two bottles of water and a bottle of Ithbank, which smelled strong enough to clean wounds….or start fires perhaps. Surely this wasn’t Ithbank. This smelled as if it had been here for years, fermenting until it was strong enough to slap someone across the face.

Lily doubted she would be brave enough to imbibe at this point as she had a feeling she never really had a taste for paint stripper. She placed one of the bottles of water and the alcohol in one of the backpacks she had found before turning back to the path leading through the wreckage. Her eyes immediately fell upon a dead body which caused that curious feeling of claustrophobia to hit her.

Lily downed the remaining bottle of water, ignoring the nausea that she felt looking at the corpse. This wasn’t her. She wouldn’t revel in death. She refused to give into this stupid darkness within her. If she couldn’t control it, she simply wouldn’t look at the issue…until she felt better anyway. Then she would try and figure out what was causing this. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t any place to look that wasn’t touched by death in some form or fashion. There were dead fishermen on the beach, dead Mindflayers in the wreckage and…just random dead people sprinkled throughout. People that didn’t belong at all, judging from their attire.

Which was she? Was she a person who belonged on the waterfront or was she a random victim that had been on that ship? Why couldn’t she remember anything? Why did the idea of being a victim anger her so much? Shouldn’t it have scared her or confused her as well?

A memory of a rock, or something much like a rock, flashed behind her eyes. It flew at her head in her peripheral vision. There was a bloom of pain behind her right ear before her world went black. That was her last memory…before she woke up on the beach. Why couldn’t she see what was in front of her in the memory? Yellow eyes? They looked…frightened? No, that didn’t feel right.

They looked…. ‘Filled with hatred’

The memory faded, followed by the icepick pain that was becoming all too familiar. Blood oozed freely once more, from what had to be a head wound somewhere beneath her hair. Lily needed to move. To find some help before she became too sick with fever to find someone who could help her. She tucked the empty bottle in her backpack and started walking, her feet almost dragging as she moved forward.

Tilting her head back, Lily made the choice to look above her instead of staring ahead at the massacre amongst the wreckage. ‘The sky’, she thought, looking at the nearly cloudless visage above her, ‘The sky is a very pretty shade of blue.’

Unfortunately, when you’re staring above you, it’s very easy to step into or onto things that you would like to avoid. In Lily’s case, she stepped on an Intellect Devourer. The fear she should have felt was diminished by the immediate feeling of nausea upon hearing the squelch from her foot landing atop the brain. The feeling of its’ juices coming up between her toes. It was as though her mind was a few steps behind, not realizing the danger she was currently in until the brain she had stepped upon hissed at her and lashed out with its’ large, clawed feet.

“How did you hiss!?!” She practically yelled at it. No, her mind still wasn’t caught up, “You have no mouth!” It chirped and warbled, once more slashing at her with those massive claws. This time she felt it should have hit her and her mind finally snapped to attention, now giving the little monster proper consideration. Something within herself shifted, watching the small creature run off to join two others. Watching through her own eyes.

‘Of course there are three of you,’ blood flowed freely from her lip now, trickling down her chin as she bit down just a little too hard this time. The stress was clearly getting to her.

‘Pay attention!’

That wasn’t her thought... unless she was secretly a snarling, extremely irritated, male dragon. Her mind completely disconnected then. The feeling of being puppeted, though gently, overwhelmed her. Lily’s eyes focused on the three Devourers in front of her and she felt more than saw her right arm lift up. Her fingers snapped and a single shot of lightning struck them from the clear sky above.

The creatures simply popped, splattering their surroundings and anyone unlucky enough to be standing close enough with blood and brain goo.

Control of her body returned.

The voice that wasn’t her own seemed to sigh and Lily could almost feel a dragon’s warm breath on her skin. ‘At least you remember how to walk and talk.’

“Thank you for saving me?” She walked over and prodded some of the remains with her toe, her body fully shuddering as her skin touched it.

‘Was that a question?’

“No….I…. I just don’t know what’s going on. I would have died if you hadn’t….” She felt a wave of sympathy and had the impression of a wing wrapping around her in an embrace. It made Lily feel entirely too small. Safe, but small.

‘I have been asleep for fifteen years. The chains that bound me to rest are gone, though I don’t know why. You managed to wake me just as a different part of you managed to chain me fifteen years ago.’

Lily couldn’t remember fifteen hours ago, let alone fifteen years ago. She understood that the voice sounded angry when it referred to a different part of her chaining it. What in Gods name was she?

She felt a moments pause as though unsure that she was telling the truth…to herself? No, that didn’t make sense. Utter confusion swamped her before being replaced with resolve to care…for herself? Confusion again. ‘I am going to help you but only if you never think in such brain addling ways again. First, you may call me Other until you remember my name. Second, you need to find help, Lily. You have a parasite in your brain. A tadpole.’

She was going to ask if Other was actually inside of her mind or if he existed somewhere else and was simply communicating through it, but the mention of a parasite stopped her thoughts in their tracks. Granted, Amnesiac Lily didn’t have enough knowledge to accomplish lunch, but…she knew of only one type of tadpole that fed upon the brains of their unfortunate victims. Mindflayer…

‘Yes, Lily, a Mindflayer parasite is in your brain. It’s been there a while judging from how damaged your brain is.’

Other sounded tired now. As tired as she herself felt, actually. She needed to push forward, find some help and figure out what was going on.

Was she…talking to herself? Astarion watched from a shadowed copse nearby. His eyebrow had been lifted in confusion since the moment he had spied the daft woman wandering alone through this debris field of an area. For starters, she was walking around barefoot on the beach. That wouldn’t have been such an issue with him as, from the looks of it, people were abducted and placed in random pods in varying states of dress. What did bother him was the fact that he had watched her as she stepped on all manner of sharp objects. Her feet were bleeding and she paid them little heed. Her head was bleeding as well, or at least it had been bleeding at some point from the look of her. Granted, when he had seen her on the ship, Astarion had been sure she was wearing shoes and hadn’t seen her from an angle allowing him to see the blood…if it had been there at the time.

Perhaps she was a thrall? That would make sense, especially since she was talking to something. Maybe she was being controlled in order to rescue a surviving mindflayer from that accursed ship?

He fidgeted with a piece of gold from his pocket, rolling it between his fingers while considering his options as he walked back to his own fallen pod. On the one hand, he wanted to know what had been done to him and the little lost thrall out there was likely his best source for immediate information. On the other hand, he had watched her as she had literally walked around with her head tilted upwards as she stared straight up at the sky.

Add to that her conversation with someone that wasn’t there, and he was more and more certain that killing her would be the kindest option. After all, if she was being summoned to rescue a denizen of the crashed Nautiloid, they would likely kill her as soon as she found them and if they expired before she reached them, she would likely die as well. Thralls couldn’t last long without their masters…could they?

He cursed. Astarion considered himself educated and well-read, but he wasn’t normally interested in books about Mindflayers. If they were mentioned in something he was reading already, that was one thing, but the biology of the creatures seemed a little dry for his tastes. He wasn’t often afforded the luxury of time to himself, so the idea of wasting it on a book about Mindflayers and their ins and outs made him scowl.

No, he preferred books with information that he could actually and regularly use…. How was he to know he’d be abducted by the tentacled bastards on that ship?

Astarion glanced in the direction that she would be coming from. The little lost puppet was a bit closer now and he made up his mind to go ahead and catch her, question her and kill her. “Over here,” he called, trying to act like a poor lost nobleman. It wasn’t such a huge lie that he would feel out of place playing the part, after all. “Quick! Over here. I need help!”

The vulnerability he could hear in his voice made him grimace as he continued to call out, coaxing her to his side.

Astarion listened for her footsteps to get closer before he turned towards her and then, stunned by how filthy she was, doing a dramatic double take and turning towards her once more. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened in horror as he stared at her. “Bloody Hells woman! Did you take ‘bathing in the blood of your enemies’ literally?” That wasn’t what he had meant to say. His well-versed mask of charm simply couldn’t cope with this walking gore pile before him. He grimaced as he realized that she likely wouldn’t be able to answer him.

When she had the nerve to look exasperated at him and did answer his question, he was quite shocked. “Apparently…. Did you need something?” The wretched leather armour she wore, if that’s what that had been, fell from her shoulders as she released the remaining clips that had held it in place. It practically disintegrated when it hit the ground.

What was beneath were ripped-up garments that had long ago finished their service and were in desperate need of retirement. She added a new tear to the garment, yanking a strip from the bottom and wiping at the blood that was drying on her face. She passed it over her arms next, scrubbing away at the stuck-on viscera.

When it became apparent that much of the grime would require water to remove, she tossed the cloth to the ground before looking at him expectantly. They stayed like that for longer than either of them was comfortable with, making Astarion actually start looking around for anything to focus on that wasn’t her face. After all, she had really only managed to push the gross around with an even filthier strip of….what used to be cloth.

It was appalling.

This woman needed to be dunked in the river and held there for the better part of a day until she was halfway clean. Only then could she consider having an actual bath.

“WELL?” She snapped at him, making his eyes jump back to her face.

“Ah, yes.” This was apparently not a thrall. She was disgusting and definitely addled but her mind was her own... Or at least it seemed to be. He took a deep breath, deciding to go ahead with his initial idea. It wasn’t the first time he had to get close to someone who was beneath his standard of hygiene…. It probably wouldn’t be his last. “There’s one of those brain things,” he pointed at the bushes behind him, “I have it cornered. You can kill it right? Like the others?”

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him, then at the bushes behind him. “Can’t you kill it?”

He ran a hand through his silver curls in slight irritation, “Maybe, if I had a weapon. I am, however, sadly unarmed.”

“Ah…well, it’s probably already run out of the bushes up ahead. Don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine.” Lily wasn’t about to tell him that she had no idea how she had managed to kill the other three Intellect Devourers so she simply turned around and started walking away since there really wasn’t anything she could do.

“Hmm, I was hoping for a kind soul. No matter,” Astarion reached down and withdrew a dagger from his boot. He padded up behind her silently and grabbed her shoulder, yanking her backwards and tossing her on the ground.

Before she could respond, he had straddled her middle and was holding the dagger to her throat. He clicked his tongue with a smirk, “Not a word. I would hate to have to…. No, honestly, I would hate to have to dirty my blade on that filthy skin of yours.”

She rolled her eyes, “It isn’t as though I realized I was this dirty when I was next to the river. I would have washed up then if I had known. I’m also fairly sure most of this came from those exploding Intellect Devourers up the path…”

Astarion pressed the blade down, effectively shutting the woman up. Gods, even her hair was drenched in Mindflayer gore. He reached out and curiously picked a piece of a tentacle out of her hair before throwing it away, visibly repulsed. He glared at her, noting that he had made a small nick in her flesh. The skin of her neck wasn’t clean, but he could at least see her pale colouring. His eyes followed a droplet of blood as it slid down into her hair. “I said not a word, didn’t I?”

Astarion pitched his voice low and spoke quietly, conveying to her that he was a threat when all he really wanted was to get off of her and jump into the water of the Chionthar. He imagined the grime on her climbing over onto him and suppressed the urge to vomit. Just as well. When had he last eaten?

She nodded, watching him intently as he decided what to do with her.

“You were on the ship. I saw you traipsing around as if you owned the place. Tell me what you and those tentacle freaks did to me!”

“So, I can talk now?” She grinned, enjoying ruffling this elf’s feathers. Lily’s mind once more seemed to be ten steps behind in recognizing the danger around her.

“I am extraordinarily close to gutting you and putting you out of my misery.” Astarion bit out with a growl. She did actually seem concerned then. Took her long enough…

“I was kidnapped too. Let me up and we can talk like civilized people.” A statement and not a question. She meant it.

Before he could respond, Astarion was forcefully inserted into someone else thoughts. Or rather…their memories. He watched, seeing the woman beneath him in the pod’s reflective glass. She was groggy but her mind sensed danger, so she acted, slamming her forehead repeatedly into the glass until it broke. It allowed the wretched creature to tumble out of her pod where she struggled to stand, hands bound as a dragon tore through the wall in the chamber adjoining her own. Fire erupted, spewing forth and burning the pods within along with all of their inhabitants.

Thank the Gods she hadn’t been in that area…

Thank the Gods he hadn’t been either…

She wiggled her way over to a piece of exposed bony material jutting up from the floor and rubbed her bindings along a sharp edge until they snapped. Just in time as the dragon was now aiming into the chamber that she was in. She hid behind a fleshy console, unaware that she cast some kind of shield around herself just as the flames spewed forth again.

He was back in his own head, released from her memories and, Astarion assumed, she was released from his. He sighed, pulling the dagger away from her throat and standing up, taking a couple of steps back from her before he started attempting to brush off any filth that had migrated onto his clothes from her. Really, he was waiting for her to stand and get her bearings. Astarion looked up at her once he sensed her stillness.

He cleared his throat, “They took you too. I’m sorry I assumed you were one of their thralls.”

She frowned, feeling like she had heard something very similar quite recently. All she could see in her mind when she tried to remember why, was a toad shouting at her about how she was a thrall and needed to die after swinging a massive sword at her. Her lips twitched to the side as she pondered this, “Thanks for the apology, I guess? If I had a weapon, I may have done the same to you.”

He chuckled, an artificial sound even to his own ears, “Ah ha! A kindred spirit! My name is Astarion,” he tried to take in any detail about her, but she was absolutely covered in grime and gore. Her hair was a mountain of tangles and filth, completely obscuring her ears. There was no way to discern anything aside from the fact that she was a pale shade of ivory, perhaps a touch darker than his own. He gave up, assuming he would learn who and what she was soon enough, “I was in Baldur’s Gate when those beasts snatched me up.”

“I’m Lily, I think.” Her hand fiddled with a pouch that was hanging by a cord around her neck. It had been tucked beneath her armour, he guessed, else it probably would have been taken. The markings on the leather were elvish, making him curious about what type of magic was within.

“You…think?”

She nodded, frowning in frustration, “Right. I’m pretty sure I have amnesia.”

“I see,” Astarion was a bit disappointed. There was no way an amnesiac would know what was going on…right? He opted to take his chances. It never hurt to ask, after all, “I’m guessing your knowledge of Mindflayer parasites is, undoubtedly, pretty limited then?”

“I know they’ll turn us both into Mindflayers. That’s pretty much it.”

His mind went blank. Shocked, he blurted out, “Turn us into….” The laugh that passed through his perfect lips was forced and almost sounded pained. “Of course, it’ll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?”

Before Lily could offer her condolences, which seemed appropriate given his reaction, Astarion continued, “Wait, there’s still time. If we can find someone who has studied them. Someone who knows how to control these things…these worms, then perhaps…”

“You mean destroy them, don’t you?”

He looked at her again, “Of course, what did I say?”

“Control?”

“Preposterous.” He ran his eyes down her body, trying once more to picture the creature before him without her current choice of…coverage. Gods, he couldn’t even tell what species she was. Lily could be a tiefling with no horns for all he could tell.

She had no tail either, however. Tiefling was out. “Look, why don’t we go to the water’s edge down there,” he gestured to a well overgrown path not far from where they were standing. It was blessedly free from any Nautiloid pieces. “I can help you get cleaned up a bit. It’s the least I can do.”

Lily touched her blood-sticky hair and shuddered. She preferred the idea of another woman helping her, but this Astarion person seemed…. aside from the whole dagger incident, harmless enough? He was a liar and a threat, certainly, but not an overwhelmingly large one.

Other, still groggy, agreed to keep watch. Of course, they also hated the idea and had thrown some choice insults about how inept Lily had become.

Of course, she was inept. She couldn’t remember being any other way.

“Alright…erm…lead the way I suppose?”

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Author’s Notes 🙃

Lily wasn’t meant to be barefoot. Bestie rearranged BFoE in her mod list and suddenly our adorable sorceress had no shoes on the beach.

The looking up at the sky thing happened in game as Lily did run around with her head creepily staring up at sky until the first fight happened. Tava decided to RP it like it happened, meaning Lily bypassed Shadowheart on the ground because she was trying to not look at anything.

Her being too filthy just kind of happened. She popped out of her pod in the Nautiloid with red hair and a completely splattered face and clothes. It was so funny that I convinced her to leave it. 😝