#a wild ask appears

[grim-faux]

so forgive me if this is a silly question/i read it wrong, but why is the thin man stealing kids?

It's not a silly question.

Are you referring to why the Thin Man chases children, or do you mean how Mono is always on about the Thin Man collecting kids?

[littlecrittereli]

Hey there! I read both Reprogrammed and Decoded and was blown away. Unfortunately (sorta), my odd little brain had one little question that was burning from the end of Reprogrammed till the end of the story: what about the Wild Kratts Kids? How did they react to Chris's disappearance/return? I know if I were 8 and my teacher (i guess thats an okay metaphor? maybe?) randomly disappeared for 3 months and came back 10 pounds lighter with dozens of new scars and white hair in their early twenties, I'd be a little torn up/curious. How would Chris feel about showing up on screen in front of a bunch of kids in his state? Would he...wear a...hat...or something...? I don't know, just thoughts lol

They never told the public that Chris was missing (Didn't wanna scare the kids or give the Villains the knowledge that they were vulnerable)

And being out in the most rural parts of the world, it's not uncommon for them to go months without any sort of public appearance. For now, Martin is handling any sort of press alone until Chris is ready to be back in the public eye.

But of course they still run into a wild kratts kid every once and a while.

He's still working on his alibi.....

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

you want a new kind of guy, fine, i raise you: the lady i was briefly roommates with in college who once smoked a blunt at a party and then spent an hour confessing earnestly to me that she genuinely preferred reading detailed episode recaps over actually watching the tv show in question

[quirkle2]

i have GOT to stop drawing things for fics i haven't written yet

[devotion-disorder]

They DO call Sunday chicken wing boy in game

HELL YEAH!!!!!!!!!!! chicken wing boy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[vulpinesaint]

Hi! I just went through your quizzes (gorgeous writing, by the way!) and I wonder if you have the results for all of them posted somewhere? I know both saints quizzes have a full results post and the garden one too, but I don't think I've found the others. I'm especially curious about the supervillain one :)

hiya!! thank you so much i'm so glad you liked them <3 as of right now i only have results up for the saints + garden quizzes, but i would be so happy to post more results for you! anytime i post results, they should be linked on the masterpost in my bio :) i think i will. only post the supervillain one for now. the other ones make me feel a little silly. but you are so welcome to the supervillain results <3

for those of you who have taken the supervillain quiz: here's how your story could have ended!

[aaeeart]

Pick one :

Kanan or Hera

Sabine or Ezra

Chopper or Zeb

[sneeb-canons]

Headcanon #645: Heart is usually the one that cooks for the three of them. Its not one of his main interests but he does really enjoy cooking and especially baking. Though he definitely gets too into it sometimes, and now they have like...80 more trays of baked goods than they all three need.

[arkham-guard-dp-au]

Idea: The longer Danny works at Arkham, the more comfortable he is in allowing his ghost form to bleed through his human form around the inmates, patients, and even the staff. At that point, when his human form and ghost form are nearly indistinguishable from one another, everyone in Arkham makes sure not to let any of the bats know that Danny's less than human, not wanting him to leave cause he really does make staying at Arkham that much bearable... As long as you follow his instructions/rules while he's on duty. When he's off shift, it's all fair game but then, the next time you get caught, you'd be met with a disappointed look that shouldn't be as effective as it is. No one likes the disappointed look.

So like, Batfam knows of Danny and how he seems to keep Arkham somehow stable, but they can't, for the life of them, learn anything about him. When they try to meet him, nope, sorry, distraction, or, oh no, you just missed him. Part of this is also due to Danny avoiding them like the plague, cementing partial rumors of him being once with the batfam at some point. Some think he was 2nd Robin. Danny doesn't know about the conspiracy theories about him yet.

Omg yes. Tho I feel like Danny wouldn't be full ghost form looking, there is definitely something off with him. Like his ears are tapered, his hair sways in a non existent breeze, a grin too sharp and eyes that shine like a cats. Not to mention the chill that always seems to follow him along with the feeling of other. Definitely feeling uncanny Valley here.

As for the gaurds and some of the inmates. YES!! They absolutely do try to hide Danny whenever Batman is around. Either cuz the weird he's estranged family conspiracy theories, or because of the rumored Batman's no meta rule. Like they finally have a decent gaurd they are not gonna let a brooding furry chase him off.

Like I just imagine Batman is there dropping off an escaped inmate and like several employees just take off running to find Danny. Like yoo, you're needed to...help move a box! In the . . Supply closet and far away from the entrance! Is this totally sus? Yes. Does Danny go along with it cuz he also wants to avoid bat-tention(Bat attention)? Also yes.

[puckpocketed]

As someone who’s the go-to prospects blog in my mind, do you have any thoughts on Aron kiviharju dropping to the fourth round? The video the Wild shared after he got drafted is soo interesting to me

"Let me tell you one thing, man; you just made the biggest steal of the draft. I promise you that."

29/06/2024 - The Minnesota Wild draft Aron Kiviharju 122nd overall

Aron Kiviharju was supposed to go 1st overall.

Can you be a bust before you ever get drafted? Can the narrative miasma of going 1st overall linger on someone who went 122nd?

Kiviharju’s first game report from the 2024 EP Draft Guide is dated November 24th, 2019. He was 13 back then. According to them, no other player in EP's database — nor in any other draft guide this year — has had scouts' eyes on them so early, for so long. They say he understands the game beyond what's reasonable for a player his age, that he's always excelled while playing above his year level, that even though he's small and light there's something special about his game. Singular, elite, a phenom. This child is the next big thing. He is 13, 14, 15, he is anointed Boysaviour before his voice has cracked.

How many times have we heard this story before?

One day, Aron Kiviharju will be competing with and against players his age. And when that day comes, it might feel a bit odd for the defenceman. For years, ever since Kiviharju was young, he has played up a level, or two, or three. At age 13, he was playing U16 hockey with TPS Turku and, this past season, as a 15-year-old, he started with TPS’ U18 team before moving on to the U20 club. His numbers – 30 points in 35 games – would be deemed impressive for a 19-year-old forward, never mind a young defenceman who only turned 16 in January.

Steven Ellis' article on Kiviharju for Daily Faceoff, early September 2023, broadens the scope of public scrutiny even further:

Time travel back to 2022, and you'll find his name is printed right next to some familiar faces from this year's draft: Macklin Celebrini, Cole Eiserman, Berkly Catton, Ivan Demidov — except, they're all listed as possible challengers to his assumed throne.

And then, the accident.

The glaring flag on Kiviharju's draft profile, and across every report, every interview, and article since is the reality of his stalled potential. A scout’s job is to project a player’s future, but progress is rarely linear. What might halt a once-promising player's progress? Injuries and global pandemics and a poorly managed season or two; these things don't care for destiny. For every realised prodigy there are a dozen more who will fall short of expectations — this is something you pick up fast reading backdated draft guides and sifting through the history of the NHL.

In Kiviharju's case, the dislocated kneecap and the skate cut to the throat are the things most will write about. Behind the scenes, however, there were evidently other factors that contributed to his drop to the 4th round.

You see, every time I think I've escaped it, the size issue comes back.

The belief remains, however, that larger is better. I’m understating just how much it pervades hockey discourses: it’s present in scouting reports and has had measurable impacts on drafting; I hear it on professional and amateur hockey podcasts; it’s thrown out casually during interviews by coaches and fellow players. I can’t read or listen to anything about Faber without stumbling across it — the preoccupation with size. I’ll be very clear here: I’m not reading anything malicious from specific people, I’m not accusing anyone of crimes, and in no way am I implying that ice hockey is unique here. Just the opposite, in fact. I know professional sports hinges upon producing stars, that the commodification of young bodies is endemic to the business. Those stars are, stripped down to the basest definition, workers who perform with their bodies and sell their labour, whose bodies will inevitably be coveted and revered for their adherence to the Platonic Ideal of their respective crafts. For men’s sports, there’s something extra on top of the commodification of children’s bodies — it’s the vernacular of near-fetishistic worship; of the masculine, the oxymoronic youthful-but-mature, the virile. The language used to praise Faber and other young d-men like him has my stomach twisting in a discomfort that I find hard to quantify — players, coaches, and the media all talk about him, and the hockey blinders slip. He’s a “workhorse”, a “stud”, he’s got “a man’s body” — and call it projecting, call it reading too deeply into innocuous statements, but the closest thing I can compare it to is hearing my AFAB body spoken about as an object whose value can be reduced to its function, its usefulness, its closeness to sexual maturity.

Excerpt from the last time I wrote about a Minnesota d-man (sensing a pattern here).

Kiviharju probably would've dropped some places regardless of his injury and missed time; that's where the league is trending right now in terms of draft preference. When you're small, every mistake is amplified by your lack of size. You must be twice as skilled, faster, more consistent.

p. 595, The 2024 Elite Prospects NHL Draft Guide

Kiviharju's media appearances read like someone who is haunted by his draft stock despite his assertions otherwise.

Kiviharju's bold proclamation, caught on GM Bill Guerin’s hot mic, that the Wild just got "the biggest steal of the draft” will likely be associated with Kiviharju's rise — or perhaps his fall — as Minnesota media and fans work at their mythmaking. I don't know if I want to care about some hockey myths anymore. My appetite for them sours day by day. These myths were started by the eyes and hands and mouths of people watching a boy of 11 play hockey, who witnessed him and salivated at his unwritten future. Part of me thinks: I don't want to be complicit in their continued weaving — though I know I will be anyway.

I read what he says in the lead up to the draft and it's like he's telling himself as he tells us; that he will not care, because he is worth more than this.

From Kiviharju's draft day interview, transcribed by me:

Q: What's the biggest thing you learned about yourself going through the rehab process? AK: Kind of like... it's — life is more than hockey. Hockey is the biggest thing for me. I love the sport. I will do this for the rest of my life, for sure. First playing it, then probably I will continue with hockey after my career, so I've been always thinking like that, and I'm still thinking like that, but it's just that it's — more. Life is more than just hockey, there's a lot of things. And there's a lot of different things about myself, kind of like when you don't — if hockey is my fuel and I'm a car and I'm 200 days without getting any fuel, we have to find some new ways how to get that fuel, to keep my car going. - Q: How has your cut healed since U-18's? AK: Yeah so (he gestures to the cut right below his jawline) that was a pretty close one, but thank God we're alive. That's what I kind of meant when I said that this life is more than just hockey. So first you're 200 days without playing hockey and when you come back your first game the World Under 18's a skate cuts your throat open, so it's very close calls, and that's when you remember that this is only hockey.

Whatever happens, I want Kiviharju to hold on to this. Don't get me wrong, I'm rooting for him. In so many ways, he fits the archetype of players I enjoy. I want him to make it to the show and blow everyone's expectations out of the water and bring Minnesota the Cup. I love this team, even if I rarely post about them. Even still, whether he shoots into stardom or he washes out of the NHL, it doesn't fucking matter. It's only hockey.

And he is more than his ability to live up to our myths.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Writing prompts! I'm sending them individually to make it easier to answer all or a few or none of them. They all turned out to be LU in Healthcare oops

When Hyrule is on a call and the patient is awake and alert enough to be scared, how does he help?

EMS calls had phases to them.

The first phase, of course, was getting dispatched, and responding to the scene. It was typical for emotions to run high immediately, for the adrenaline to spike, and everyone reacted differently. Hyrule usually ran scenarios through his head, easing his own anxiety by preparing himself based on the dispatch information. It wasn’t much, especially since dispatch could have faulty details, and he was more than happy to wing it… but it kept his mind preoccupied.

Mo’s usual response was to get aggravated. He would judge the dispatch information, would get irritated whenever a driver messed up and did something reckless. The man’s compassion was quiet and immense, but his stress came out in snappish quips directed at situations and nonexistent people.

The third phase began with their arrival. This was usually when they would figure out what they were actually dealing with.

A dispatch for chest pain meant Mo drove and Hyrule led. The secondary indicated a male in his 40s with severe chest pain and difficulty breathing. It couldn’t really get more cut and dry than that, Hyrule supposed. They had to drive to the central train station, which complicated matters. Hyrule had to agree as Mo grumbled about the situation - he hated crowded scenes.

As the pair walked inside with a stretcher loaded with supplies, they were directed to a secluded area, which surprised Hyrule. He was far more accustomed to people bunching up to stare, getting in his way and making his skin crawl. Instead, they were ferried into a small room, and Hyrule’s senses immediately went on alert at the sight of security guards.

He supposed one of the security members was the patient, then.

But no, because it was clear who the patient was, and his lack of security uniform was not the first thing Hyrule noticed. It was his grayish complexion, the sweat beading his forehead, the scrunched up expression of focus and agony fighting for control. It was the way the man was carefully rocking back and forth between leaning back and clutching his chest and leaning forward to open his airway because he couldn’t breathe. It was how silent he was, eyes piercing through the table in front of him as he fought with all his might with how he was feeling.

This man was sick.

Mo sensed it too, and immediately started to guide the stretcher in time with Hyrule as they reached the patient. Mo prepped the monitor to get the man’s vital signs and do an EKG to look at his heart while Hyrule assessed him and spoke to him.

“Hello, sir,” he greeted, eyes looking the man over. “What’s going on?”

“These gentlemen are being too dramatic,” the man wheezed, sharp eyes burning into the security guards. “I’m fine.”

The statement was so ludicrous even Mo stopped what he was doing to throw the patient a look.

“You sure don’t look fine,” Hyrule noted.

“That’s what we said,” one of the guards piped up. “His friend called us over because he nearly collapsed.”

Hyrule glanced around. “Where’s your friend?”

“I told him to get on the damn train,” the patient grumbled. “Which is where I should be.”

“Let’s make sure you’re okay first,” Hyrule advised him. “It won’t do you any good to board that train if you die before you reach your destination.”

Given the man’s attitude, Hyrule expected some kind of scoff or angry response, but instead, the man bit his lip, showing fear. A pang of sympathy went through the paramedic, and he put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Let’s just see what’s going on, okay?”

The man watched him a moment, saying nothing, eyes searching for something, and then he squeezed them shut, chin tilting down as he nodded.

“When did this start?”

The patient hesitated before answering. “It’s been going on for an hour or two. Just got much worse when were climbing the stairs.”

Alarm bells continued to ring in Hyrule’s mind as he listened. Time is heart tissue repeated over and over. He felt his own heart beat faster as the monitor collected information.

HR 118. BP 92/44 with a MAP of 60. RR 28, SpO2 89%, and the EKG…

ST elevation. Leads II and III, with reciprocal depression in V4. Shit.

This man was having a heart attack. He’d been having one, and he was going into shock.

“Sir, it looks like you’re having a heart attack,” Hyrule informed him as he and Mo moved into action, getting him oxygen through a nasal cannula that could also read capnogrpahy, moving bags off the stretcher so they could quickly get him on it. “Have you had one before? What kind of medical history do you have?”

The patient watched him a moment, growing paler, and then he squeezed his eyes closed yet again, trying to calm himself. “I smoke. Nothing else. Doc mentioned high blood pressure during the last exam, but he said cut the cigarettes and the stress. Didn’t need meds yet. I don’t take anything.”

“Any medical allergies?”

“No.”

“Have you taken anything for this pain?”

“Aspirin,” the man answered with a huff. “I started carrying it just in case.”

“Good thing,” Hyrule commented, patting him on the shoulder lightly. “We’re going to take good care of you, okay?”

Mo had the stretcher ready and in front of them, with the monitor behind the back of the cot. Hyrule shoulder the go bag and oxygen tank while assisting the patient to stand, pivot, and sit. The less strain on his struggling heart, the better.

Security helped clear a path for them as they moved quickly. Hyrule already had his phone in hand, telling the ER to call a STEMI alert. Once they were inside the ambulance, Mo helped Hyrule secure everything and then quickly went up front to drive them out of there. Hyrule grabbed defibrillator pads, placing them on the man’s chest.

“Are those necessary?” The man asked, far more out of fear and dread than anything else.

Hyrule tried to find a balance, tried to reassure the poor man as he moved. “They’re just a precaution. Right now I don’t see a big indication for them, but I like to be ready.”

As he moved on to start an IV, he worked on trying to distract the man. His oxygen saturation had improved with the oxygen, but his blood pressure was still low. Too low for nitroglycerin, which was contraindicated in an inferior MI anyway. Hyrule didn’t have many treatment options, and he hated that. He’d tentatively give fluids. The MAP was still survivable, but barely.

“You from Castle Town?” He asked with a small smile as he put the tourniquet on the man’s arm.

“No. Well. I was.” The man answered, watching him work before swearing under his breath and staring at the ceiling. “I’m supposed to be going home. This was my break from work.”

Hyrule struggled a bit to comment on that. He tried, “Well, once the hospital patches you up, you’ll be able to go home in better condition than you would’ve.”

“You mean alive,” the man remarked bitterly, huffing, “God certainly does like to fucking test me. But if he doesn’t kill me, my wife and daughter will.”

Hyrule was about to ask about them, but the patient picked up on his attempt and waved him off. “Please, just do what you need to do.”

Hyrule obliged him, thankful for the silence to focus. He got the 18G IV in the man’s forearm—for being a smoker he had very good veins and toned arms. He at least kept in shape in that regard.

As Hyrule ran out of things to do aside from observe, he grabbed his computer to collect information. He got the man’s name and date of birth, home address, basic medical information. He called the hospital and updated them.

Mo got them to the ED in record time. The pair quickly unloaded the stretcher and went inside, where charge told them to go to one of the major rooms. A group of three or four people was waiting for them, including Warriors and Legend and Twilight and an emergency physician, as well as a cardiologist. Hyrule gave his report quickly as they moved the patient and wished the man luck.

As he exited, he sighed, feeling the tension drain out of his body. They got him there alive. That was a victory. He hoped the hospital could help him.

“Hey Rulie!”

Hyrule turned and smiled as he saw Wild. “Hey! I thought you weren’t released to go back to work until next week?”

“Eh, I passed the last exam with flying colors,” Wild shrugged with a satisfied smirk. “I heal pretty well, you know.”

The crash flashed in his mind again. The blood. Wild’s broken body. Hyrule’s smile grew a little strained. “Please don’t strain yourself.”

“I won’t,” his friend replied sincerely. “I promise.”

Movement caught his eye, and Hyrule looked beyond to see Warriors and Twilight pushing the stretcher with his patient into the hall, likely heading for the cath lab. He was honestly surprised he himself hadn’t been directed to take the patient there directly.

Wild turned as well to look. “You brought him in?”

“Yeah,” Hyrule answered quietly as the man caught sight of him, pained, tired eyes scanning him before stopping at his companion.

The man jolted up, nearly ripping out an IV in the process. Hyrule jumped, startled, and watched Twilight fight the man to lie back down. He stepped forward, eager to help and soothe the man, who had mostly been reasonable for him. Wild stayed frozen in place.

“Abel, it’s okay,” Hyrule assured him. “They’re gonna help you.”

“L—Link—” the man said, arm reaching beyond Hyrule.

How did he know his…?

He wasn’t talking to Hyrule, was he?

Hyrule turned hesitantly, and saw that Wild was nearly paler than the patient. His eyes were glazed over in that familiar look, that look that the medic knew now to recognize.

Hyrule quickly went to his friend while Warriors and Twilight both held down the patient, who was hurried out of the ED while breathlessly saying all their names over and over and over, his voice growing steadily weaker.

[sweatandwoe]

sheppard going to garrus. "hey handsome why dont you calibrate my clothes to be on the floor." "I'm not a tailor... Wait you were flirting with me!"

This gave me a little brain worm

The fight had been brutal. Some geth were still lying on the floor, a few still smoking from the various bullet entry points or when an overload had over-fried their brains. Garrus was panting a little, while the two humans with him were panting and sweating a bit more.

Still, it was Shepard who broke the quiet first, leaning against her assault rifle like it hadn’t cost nearly half a million credits. “So… Was that better than calibrating the main gun, Vakarian?”

Garrus blinked at her. His mandibles tightened to his jaw and twitched as he considered it. “It was certainly more active than working on the mako. And had less algorithms.”

She smiled, her eyes finally lighting up after such a battle. It did odd things to his heart every time, little jolts that would begin deep under his plates and become louder in his neck. “Still angry at that decryption hack?”

“Not angry enough to shoot the lock off. Or maybe that was just human annoyance. I heard it can be a nuisance." Blue eyes glanced to her gun, noticing how it so easily held up the human woman’s weight. Shepard wasn’t small for a human but all humans looked so small in comparison to turians. How they even managed to hold the giant weaponry, he didn’t understand and feared to ask. Dr. Chakwas was wonderfully enthuastic about any subject, but had always met to the most grim and dangerous injuries or diseases with that same enthuasim. “Do you need that calibrated?”

“No.” She said, and then began to smile. That light was quickly turning into heat in the post-battle haze. “My armour could need some help though, if you want to join me in my cabin. You can calibrate it if you're itching for something.”

Garrus paused. And then when he didn’t get it, he sent a look towards Ashley who was glancing up to the cieling with her lips twitching. She sent a glance back to him and went into a full grin seeing the desperate look he sent her.

“Commander, go easy on him.” Ashley said, her fist connecting to her Shepard’s shoulder, the light armour making the blow barely felt. “Turians need the direct approach.”

Now he was even more confused. Was his translator acting up? The turian approached the two smaller human women, but he felt the same size of Shepard’s hamster at that moment. “I know which direction the commander’s cabin is.”

They both laughed, and Garrus would too.

Just two years later.

[stephofromcabin12]

🎨

Steph and Peepaw watching the Muppets? 🐸🐷

I’ll have another pass at this one later but:

[akkivee]

Vee it’s almost time for bats dt preview !!! From scale of 1 to 10 how scared are you? I’m currently at 85 after chuos dt title dropped.

it’s been about the same i think lol me on a normal day:

me with every passing day we get closer to the bat drama track:

[sleepanonymous]

hello fellow worshipper ^^

so from most of II’s drum cams i’ve seen, you can barely hear Vessel’s vocals… like do you think that ever makes him sad? not being able to properly hear his pretty siren voice on stage? :(

ofc feel free to ignore, i’m just a curious dude :)

Heeey, thank you for the ask! And I’d never ignore you or anyone else (on purpose, but my object permanence is as bad as a newborn's, lol) 🖤🖤

So, I have two answers for you. My first answer is that, yes, II probably does feel some type of way about not hearing Vessel’s amazing live singing (or even the Vesselettes, or III and IV). It’s obvious he’s a fan of the music he writes with Vessel, and he gets really into it during certain songs like Atlantic, where pauses between the percussion parts exist. But if it makes you feel better, II absolutely loves what he does and fully kills it every time he goes on stage. I’m sure it’s a sacrifice he willingly makes.

My second answer is much more technical and would apply to any touring drummer/musician, not just Sleep Token, so I’m just gonna shove it under a cut to hide my nerdiness, lol (and also not to shatter anyone's illusion with how much planning and work goes into live performances).

What we hear in II’s live drum playthroughs and what II hears while playing is a lot different. Performing musicians wear unique earplugs/earphones called in-ear monitors (I’ll abbreviate them to IEMs). The IEMs have several purposes, mainly to protect musicians’ hearing and allow them to hear themselves and backtracks while performing over everything else during a concert (because concerts are loud, obviously lol). But the IEMs also enable the musicians to hear other things, like the stagehands/sound techs can speak to them, they’ll more often than not have a metronome going, and they may even have spoken cues like, “Verse Two in 4 3 2 1.”

I can guarantee that II has at least a metronome going during all of Sleep Token’s rituals. Since none of the band really speaks on stage (I don’t count III’s yelling), II also might have either Sam (his drum tech) or an automated voice telling him what song he’s playing next, along with a numbered countdown for the beginning of the song. II might even get in-the-moment verbal queues from Sam, or Sleep Token’s FOH, Thom.

This isn’t Sleep Token, but the video below is an excellent example of what I’m talking about. I don't expect everyone to watch the whole thing but it's great, tempo changes, count-ins, and everything. Flash warning, just in case.

The two screenshots are from the same video and add a bit more information on what a musician might hear in their IEMs during live shows.

I might be alone here, but I really wish Sleep Token would release at least one of the live drum recordings with an in-ear mix like the video above. I’d nerd out so hard over hearing exactly what II or any of the other Eepy guys (especially Vessel during The Summoning, omg) are hearing live in their IEMs.

I know there are people who do mockups on YouTube of Popstar’s supposed IEM mixes and I swear if I had any musical knowledge or video editing skills it would be my self-proclaimed mission to put an in-ear mix into all of Sleep Token's live shows 😅😅

[perdicinae-observer]

Title.

Urgh, how do people normally start this... Fancy greetings? Right, right. Hm...

Afternoon. (That was not fancy at all.)

This is Marshal Louis Nicolas Davout writing. Or...well, typing.

I've decided to finally excuse myself from my moping session solitude and venture into unknown territory that is this strange platform. (Which I have been...observing from a distance.)

Seeing as my late colleagues have been up to some...shenanigans on this platform, I might as well find something to amuse myself with the ample time I'm given and do some...[*grimaces*]...socialising.

[*sigh*] I'm going to regret this...

So, to whoever may see this and care; you are free to send me your questions, letters, and queries regarding whichever subject you wish. I will be reading through and answering them accordingly when I am not busy tending to domestic matters around the painfully quiet estate.

However, do be mindful of the things you send. Respect goes both ways and I do not like to squabble. Unless it's against certain b

Unsavoury comments regarding my hair will swiftly be ignored and used as fuel for the fireplace.

...Don't expect me to initiate interactions much.

Regards,

L Davout.

——————————•

!! This is a joke RP account run by @mbenguin, a guy who is in no way shape or form a bona fide historian-- just really enthusiastic about balding dead nerds and French history! This is in no way meant to be accurate, analytical, or faithful 100% to reality despite being based on actual historical facts to a certain degree. This is a fictionalised parody that is meant to be in-character as possible to my interpretation of the man himself and I'm doing it for shits and giggles !!

Handy list of folks participating in this madness (whose exchanges will be tagged separately!)

Events (chronological, sometimes) ──

[✓ — Finished , ✗ — Ongoing]

Birth of "Lenoir", Hell's cutest ink demon chick

Local Old Man Turned Cutest Owl Ever, More On Page 2

Princess of Eckmühl(?)

⇲ Swedish Home Invasion

⇲ Catgirl Madness (ft. The Ass Boys)

Arc: The Ginger Rescue Expedition

⇲ Lenoir took over correspondence!

⇲ Party ADCs in the house tonight

Epilogue (1,2)

He's back!

Swedish Home Invasion 2 Dinner?

Waterloo 2: Electric Boogaloo

The Gasconious Wedding

Eagle sitter

Pheasant insanity

Arc: Winter Has Come

⇲ October ( i, ... )

⇲ Brief escape (The Masquerade)

Tags ──

#correspondance de Savigny-sur-Orge -- The marshal's replies to his letters- sent straight from his humble, lonely manor. Could both be written and spoken answers.

#dépêches personnelles -- General responses/exchanges (hilarity ensues)

#proclamations du Prince d'Eckmühl -- Important announcements/event messages

#représentations par le petit gardien -- Drawn visual representation by the marshal's mysterious companion...whose text will be in purple!

#la réponse du petit gardien -- Said mysterious companion's answering his letters, if there are any directed towards him.

#galerie d'oiseaux -- Collection of bird images that 'ruffled his feathers.' With positive connotations.

Be careful when asking questions regarding Aimée or his family!

——————————•