#and small child rosella right now

[applesofdaventry]

I'm thinking distinctly Manannan-ish thoughts right now but like. A five year old can totally cook right? Like (quickly looks up Matilda) Matilda could read at like 3 and a half so Manannan could get so frustrated at using capricious wind spirits he has Gwydion hop to it after only a few years right. He could be like Gwydion here is a time period accurate box of kraft mac and cheese make it for me. and then Gwydion could, indeed, make it for him right. Yeah a five year old could totally make a box of maccy cheese.

[aheathen-conceivably]

My dearest Zelda,

I write to you once again with happy news. Although the seeds were planted in 1918, women now well and truly have the right to vote in our beloved England! No one is as ecstatic as your sister Virginia, who never backed down from a fight for the cause.

The suffragette party hosted a grand rally in London to celebrate the victory and they invited Virginia to speak on her achievements in philanthropy. They also arranged for her to tour the city from one end to another, speaking to crowds at universities and union halls about the wins gained and what has yet to be achieved.

After the lecture tour, Virginia and Wally stayed in the city’s university district to look at townhouses. You see, Virginia has also agreed to the women’s political and social union’s offer to run their alms hours in the city.

Unfortunately, this means that she and Wally will be moving to London full time. I will be so sad to see them go, but I know that the city offers so much more for brilliant minds like your sister and her dear Wally than a small town like ours ever could.

But nonetheless life here in Henford remains full and happy. We have had an entire slate of birthdays recently, but it still seems as though it were only yesterday that Annabelle and the twins were born.

Now they can all move about the farmyard or through the Brambewood on their own. I fear that Summer and your brother may give them too much freedom in this regard, but with their own wild spirits, I cannot say that I am much surprised or even in any way disappointed in their choices as parents.

While I do love Olivier and Wally with all of my heart, I must admit I have thought so much of Rosalie, Annabelle, and your Violette these last few months. Your grandmother Adelia once jested that the Darlington name has long been afflicted with the curse of the girl child. As I now grow old, I will admit that I once wished for a boy, only because I thought his choices in life would come easier than they have for you, Virginia, and even my Rosella, would she have been with us long enough to make them.

As I think now of this supposed curse, with the world widening before us and the freedoms we have increasing by the year, I am filled with nothing but hope for each of my young granddaughters, that they may reap the fruits and gains that were so hard fought for them by the woman of the last generations. I feel at peace knowing that they shall have the lives they deserve, and that I may live out the rest of my days seeing them grow into women that will make us all proud.

Forever your loving mother,

Florence Darlington

[uh-oh-howd-i-get-here]

That Would Be Enough - Bruno Madrigal X Fem! Reader

I just got insperation from listening to It's Quiet Uptown from Hamilton. There are so many parallels that I want write. I've wanted to write for Bruno, but wasn't sure how to break into it. I will very likely expand on this and make into a series. I hope you enjoy all the angst. I hope I did this idea justice.

Summary: Y/N and Bruno Madrigal go through the unimaginable pain of losing a newborn child.

Pairing: Bruno Madrigal X Fem! Reader

Warnings: Death! Angst, depression, grieving, talks of death, talks of miscarrages.

Word Count: 1000

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruno watched as his wife stared at the wall in front of her, lifeless. Julieta walking away with the small bundle that was only a day old.

He felt empty, so numb, like the world was black and white all color gone. Y/N had warned him before they had gotten married that it was hard for her mother to carry and would probably be the same for her. He said it wouldn’t matter, that he would love her no mater what.

His daughter was born three weeks early, so small and frail, but beautiful. Rosella, a soul that would never see the sun again.

There are moments that the words don’t reach

There is suffering too terrible to name

You hold your child as tight as you can

And push away the unimaginable

He walked up to her and sat on the ground behind her. There was nothing he could say to her that would ease the pain of loosing her child.

Days later, she still wouldn’t get out bed. Wouldn’t talk. Wouldn’t eat or sleep. Just stared ahead. No tears shed.

The moments when you’re in so deep

It feels easier to just swim down

And learn to live with the unimaginable

He worried for her. Out of bed, but still lifeless. Unresponsive. He stays with her, always with her. Part of him is angry with her for saying, doing, nothing. He wants her to cry or yell, to scream for her loss, but he knows. Knows that she can’t. Can’t process her emotions, his emotions, or the emotions of the rest of the family. She’s just shut everything out.

He spends hours in the garden

He walks alone to the store

And its quiet uptown

He’s never liked the quiet before

There are new whispers in the street when Bruno walks to town. They talk about the tragedy that’s become of his life. They whisper that he looks terrible, and they pity him. He can take it. He’s taken the whispers his whole life. It’s the whispers about Y/N that get to him. They talk about her mother, bless her soul, couldn’t carry a child for the life of her, that Y/N takes after her. They said something must be wrong with Y/N, broken. They can’t believe that Alma would let her marry into their family, gift or no gift. They wonder why they haven’t seen her, rumor that she died with her child.

He wished he could scream at them. That she’s still there. It makes him angry, and he goes back to Casita. He goes to his wife who just sits in her big pink armchair.

He shakes her and yells,

“Look at where we are

Look at where we started

I know I don’t deserve you, Y/N

But hear me out

That would be enough”

There’s a spark in her eyes, like he’s pulled her soul out of hibernation. Like she can hear him for the first time in weeks. His anger fades away, replaced with hope. He pulls her up from the chair and to the middle of their bedroom.

“If I could spare her life

If I could trade her life for mine

She’d be standing here right now

And you would smile and that would be enough”

Anguish fills her and she falls to ground with a scream that fills the room. Her sobs echo off the walls. For a split second he wishes that she were like before, so she wouldn’t feel this pain. He holds her close to his chest and feels himself start to cry too. Together, they mourn for their lost daughter. He whispers,

“I don’t pretend to know

The challenges we’re facing

I know there’s no replacing what we’ve lost

And you need time

But I’m not afraid

I know who I married

Just let me stay here by your side

That would be enough”

It would another day before she left their room. A week before she leaves the safety of Casita.

If you see him in the street

Walking by her side, talking by her side, have pity

Y/N do you like it outside, it’s quiet outside

He is trying to do the unimaginable

See them walking in the park, long after dark

Taking in the sights of the city

Look around, look around Y/N

They are trying to do the unimaginable

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s still so hard. Late night walks are her favorite since there are so few people. Fewer emotions, less judgment, and less pity. She’s not the only one in this village who’s lost a child. She knows its because of her position. Part of the magical Madrigal family and expected to extend the line with magical children. Y/N wasn’t sure she could ever try again. She wasn’t sure how her mother did it, kept trying with no success. How hard it must have been for her.

She still slips sometimes when she’s alone. Or walking out in the village by herself. Slips away from the emotions, but Bruno is always there to bring her back. The unique feeling of his love was like a cool breeze on a hot day.

There are moments that the words don’t reach

There’s a grace too powerful to name

We push away what we can never understand

We push away the unimaginable

It will get better, she knows. The pain will ebb away, the heartache will fade with time. Alma was always there for her, even if it was just with the feeling of understanding. But she could also feel how Alma was still drowning in her grief, how it weighed down on her like a veil. It’s easier with her Bruno around too. His grief shines through when he thinks she’s asleep, when he sees a child in town, but he doesn’t try to swallow it. He lets himself feel it, if only for Y/N’s sake, that she knows she isn’t alone. As long as she has Bruno by her side, that would be enough.

[1000generations]

Thank you for the tag @little-lightning-lavellan and @rosella-writes!

This is from a story in which Fen'Asha Lavellan, in a desperate attempt to stop Solas from destroying Thedas as we know it, transports him to another world. Our world.

It's been a WIP for... 6 years. 😅 There is like... 200,000+ words of this self-indulgent nonsense. It needs so much reworking it's daunting. lol

This scene is from Solas and Fen'Asha exploring McDonald's...

Fen’Asha put her lips to the straw. She wanted to taste what he was tasting, wanted to partake in his world. She was bold enough to walk the Fade, confront dragons, defeat Corypheus. Plus, she was used to tea.

”Vhenan?” asked Solas, reaching out for Fen’Asha as she began coughing.

She shivered slightly, the coughs still plaguing her throat. The sweetness was shocking, as was the cold. “Shit.”

A woman from the table next to her shot her a glare.

“What is it?” asked Solas.

“It is so strange,” said Fen’Asha. “I have never had tea like this before…”

“Yes,” he said. “Most curious.”

She tinkered with her straw, raising it up and down in the lid of her cup and finding that it made an interestingly musical noise. She shook her head.

“Many things in this world are not as they seem,” said Solas. He dabbed a fry in Fen’Asha’s Sweet and Sour Sauce and pondered it.

“What do you mean?”

“Your tea is not tea,” said Solas. “The People’s Courtis not court.”

She nodded, letting go of her musical straw.

“Yet many things are real,” said Solas. “The news depicts real events, albeit with a unique point of view.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, picking up a fry.

“It appears that there is always something at the root of a viewpoint,” he said. “Some kind of interest. For the most part, this is translucent and I presume most anyone could see through the many smokescreens. And yet, I am not so sure.”

“They seem happy enough,” said Fen’Asha.

“They are being influenced,” said Solas. “To what degree they allow it is the question. It seems clear they are involved in their own manipulation to some degree, as this world does not behave in a way that would be considered sympathetic to its own survival. They ruin large swaths of their habitats, they commit horrendous crimes against one another for trivial reasons…”

“That does not sound unlike Thedas. The Blight…”

“A worthy example,” said Solas. “Many were not willing to see the Blight as a threat. Others preferred the comfort of their ignorance and concocted many alternatives to actual events. Just like here.”

She nodded.

“That is why it is important to remain vigilant,” said Solas. “With so much dishonesty, it can be easy to go astray. And it can be easy to want to go astray, especially if reality is painful.”

“I have never opted for what was comfortable,” said Fen’Asha. “Clearly.”

Solas nodded. “This is certainly true. Our path to here could not have been easy.”

“Nothing about this has been easy,” she said. “It has taken a great deal of time to come to peace with everything that happened. And even now, I’m not even close to being there.”

“You are uncertain about me?”

She nodded.

“There were – there are – reasons for my reluctance. I could not and cannot reveal the entirety of my plans because you would try to stop me," He paused, considering her. "I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She sighed. “I am sitting here in a restaurant with you. You want to destroy Thedas, our world, and I’m sipping some silly drink like nothing’s wrong with that. We had sex, shared a bed. We make small-talk. We go for walks, make plans for a future like we’re some stupid couple. Nothing about this makes sense and no, Sloane, nothing about this has been easy. It won’t ever be easy, Sloane.”

Solas made a face as a small child shrieked nearby. He turned to see the culprit racing away through a set of glass doors with an enraged adult chasing behind in a yellow coat.

“And yet what can I do?” she continued. “I’m here in this strange land, like you keep saying. I’m here with you whether I like it or not.”

“I see,” said Solas.

“You hold out hope that you’re going to get back to Thedas to finish what you started,” she said. “I hold out hope that I’ll be able to stop you from doing that. I can’t pretend that’s not happening.”

“I appreciate you speaking plainly, Vhenan.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “Because I have questions.”

“I am sure you do.”

“Why me?” she said.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” he said.

“You are older than Arlathan?”

He sighed.

“And you are thousands of years old,” she said. “So why me? Why did you love me? My life is a flash for you, an inconsequential blip. You have lived so long. I have lived for mere minutes in contrast. I am…a fly.”

“That is a crude analogy,” he said.

“And you’re Fen’Harel. My god. Why would I think you would love me? Knowing everything…”

“I was never a god,” said Solas. “But that was what you wanted, what you expected. Your heart was always destined to break if it became entangled with mine.”

“So?”

“So I had already broken your heart once as Solas,” he said. “I had no desire to do so again.”

“But that is my burden, my pain. The choice is not yours.”

“My duty would always tear us apart, Fen’Asha,” he said. “It was because of me that you could not hold the gift of immortality. If there is a Maker in this world or the others, surely the Maker is laughing at me.”

“I think the Maker is laughing at both of us,” she said.

“At least as Fen’Harel, I could be near you,” he said.

“But you could have said…”

“We are moving in circles,” Solas said. “I tried to reduce my feelings. I knew what we had would only lead to lathbora viran, but you called for me and I answered. Like I always will.”

“You can’t keep…”

“I was selfish then. I am selfish now,” he said. “As Solas, as Fen’Harel, as Sloane.”

She sighed.

“I had hoped to assuage any temptation,” he said. “But reality crashed through. Our reality. When I learned of the Qunari plot at the Exalted Council, I had to act. And now, my mistakes must be rectified. There is no other way.”

“There always is another way,” she said.

“There should never have been a Veil. My life…much of it…seems to be a series of mistakes.”

“You would take so much to fix your error? You would insist the rest of us pay the price for your compensation?”

“There are other things at stake,” said Solas. “It is not so simple. The lyrium. The Blight. It matters little now I am here.”

“Thank the Maker for small mercies.”

He looked at her and for a moment irritation seemed to flicker across his face. He amended it into a tentative grin, then looked away as his eyebrows lowered.

“I will always try to stop you,” she said.

“I know,” said Solas. “But Thedas must be left behind for the time being.”

She nodded.

“And my desire for you…”

“You will leave that behind, too,” she said.

“No,” he said. He reached across the table for her hands. “No.”

“It’s not a good idea,” she said.

“You have doubts?”

“Of course,” she said.

“Then I wish to rectify that,” he said.

“Do you have doubts about me?”

“Not for a moment.”

“You haven’t made this easy,” she said. “Little of this makes sense.” She looked at a fry.

“I know,” he said. “But love defies explanation.”

“My mother said it was a gift…”

“Yes,” said Solas. “A choice. The reasons I choose to love you are…I simply want to. As you wanted to love me at one time. It is desire.”

“Love is more than desire,” she said deliberately.

“But desire is at the core. You can remove the love from desire, but you cannot remove the desire from love.”

“You are wise, Sloane,” she said after a pause.

“Even wisdom has limits,” said Solas.

Fen’Asha agreed, sipped her iced tea. She was getting used to the awful sweetness, to the way the drink cut into the corners of her mouth and made her tongue feel rough.

“For all the desire I felt for you,” continued Solas, “I subjected you to cruelty because of my selfishness. I never should have persisted in my desires. I should have fled sooner.”

“That’s one thing you do not understand,” she said. “I wouldn’t have traded in any of my moments with you. Even the painful ones. Because they were moments with you.”

“You could’ve been with someone, grown old with someone, had a family…” he said.

“I do not share the same wishes,” said Fen’Asha. “My family was you. Sera. Dagna. The Inquisition.”

“You did not desire children?”

She shook her head.

“But Hightown…?”

“You saw me in Kirkwall?”

Solas nodded. “I saw you through the eyes of the children, saw your kindness at the orphanage. Saw your insurrection in the faces of the nobles as they cursed you for bringing such a place to Hightown in the first place.”

Fen’Asha felt a chill. She had used Varric’s gift to her in Kirkwall, a mansion in the grandiloquent neighbourhood of Hightown, as an orphanage for the disadvantaged. She’d hired staff and enticed the right nobles, but that didn’t mean everyone took to the idea well. She thought back to the children in Thedas, wondered how they were doing.

“Some of the children saw it as a palace, a fairytale unwinding beneath their feet,” continued Solas. “Others saw dark corners and sinister hallways, not yet able to shed the horrors of their pasts. But in all of them, you were beautiful, an angel, bright as the sun.”

“More members of my family.”

Solas smiled warmly. “You would make a wonderful mother.”

“In the minds of many,” she said. “But it is not my choice in this life.”

He looked down.

“I am happy, Solas,” she said. “I do not wish for the same things as others, that’s all. I don’t want to be pitied because I don’t desire a family of my own. I am a Red Jenny. I was the Inquisitor. I was…yours. I served my clan. For a young elf from nowhere, for a nomad…it has been an incredible life.”

“It has.”

“And you were a huge part of that,” said Fen’Asha. Her fries were cold. “You still are.”

“You may be but a shooting star in my universe, a fleeting moment,” said Solas. “But you have made a permanent impression.”

She warmed. She wanted to touch him, feel him near. She wanted to reach across the table, wanted to kiss him with the mothers and fathers and children of this Edmonton watching. She didn’t care where she was as long as she was with him. She knew he would be the end of her. She knew she would be the end of him. She knew it hardly mattered now. She knew it was a horrible idea.

“I will always cherish you, Vhenan,” said Solas. “I will always love you.”

She was in his arms on his side of the table. She was sitting on his lap and he was caressing her back. She was cradling his face under his hood, under his necessary subterfuge against the misunderstandings of this world. She was breathing as he touched her hair, felt through its tresses. She closed her eyes as she kissed him.

He held her tight.

“I love you, Vhenas,” she said. “Always. Anywhere.”

I have no one in particular to tag. But I love to see what people are working on in the fandom if they care to share. 😊

[the-riot-raiders]

“Mobile” about

Alfred Rosella

The oldest of Johanna and Bradley Rosella Alfred has Tourette’s that make his neck periodically jerk to one side or the other and he has to rotate his wrists, he’s got a pretty bad stutter but no-one knows why, it sure doesn’t stop him (it goes away at age 10). He was 5 when his father died and he is very protective of his baby brother because he’s the man of the house now, Alfred is a very shy kid but will be out going once he gets used to kids. He’s in the same classes as Kenny but sits in the back most of the time, he often wears a Black puffy winter coat and will retreat inside it if someone pushes him too far.

Jade Pines

Twin sister of Marion Pines Jade is exactly like her brother to the point where if their hair matched lengths they’d be impossible to tell apart, she’s exceptionally close to her twin and they claim they can read each other’s minds. She’s pretty girly preferring skirts and dresses, she isn’t afraid to get down and dirty when it comes to her brother who’s a tad frailer than her. Jade is Genderfluid

Marion Pines

Twin brother to Jade(n) Pines Marion is a massive nerd and a mysterious person around children that don’t know him, he’s a bit of a frail child. When the twins were born Marion’s umbilical chord was around his neck twice, he was born by an emergency C-section and he was Blue in the face. He’s exceptionally close with his sister obviously, Jade’s pretty much his protector.

Maria Darling

Maria Darling is a soft spoken recently only child, she had a twin brother whose eyes mirrored hers (hers are Blue (right) Brown (Left)) and Johnny’s were the opposite. Johnny was hit by a car in NYC during their family’s Summer Vacation to the city, he died on impact and is buried in South Park. Maria’s parents run a plant nursery, well her mom runs it her dad owns it but prefers to be the Pre-school teacher at South Park Elementary. She’s a musical buff and lives to sing and dance, Sammy successfully got her and their friends into musicals over the years. By College they’re all engaged or married and the entire crew is in the drama club, Sammy succeeds in convincing everyone to audition for Hamilton and his friends and they get the parts making the play feel Authentic to them due to their long life of friendship. Maria played Angelica Schyler, she’s single and swings both ways.

Kent Parker

Nothing is known about Kent Parker (Born Kendra Parker) aside from the fact his parents were terrible, no-one knows who his parents are since they changed their names every time they moved. His parents were drug abusing alcoholics and tried to sell their daughter to a dealer for drugs, the baby ent up in the South Park orphanage because the dealer was an undercover cop. Kendra Parker would become a selective mute rarely speaking unless she honestly trusted the person, she’d come out as transgender at 6-years-old and chop her long brown hair at school in art class then writing ‘my name is Kent now, I’m a boy’ on the little chalk board he carried around. Bitten by the Scarab of R'lyeh after accidentally being transferred there with the coon friends during the hindsight incident turned 8 year old Kent Parker into the Netherborn superhero the Netherbug, an insect-like hero with the inability to stay dead and the ability to fly. Clyde Donovan gives him his suit, claiming it’d been a prototype suit he didn’t want.

Veronica Skyler

Veronica’s parents were Polish immigrants who were flown to South Park with temporary visas for a family funeral and Amanda who didn’t know she was pregnant due to being on the heavy side delivered their daughter a week after being there and Veronica is her parents anchor baby, her parents used her Birthright citizenship to become legal US citizens living with Amanda’s relatives in until Aaron gets the proper educations and a job so they can have their own house. They eventually have two other daughters, Alicia and Kelly.

Hair: Red (Like Kyle’s), when it’s tied in a ponytail it resembles (askthefreedompals) Kyle when he ties it to sleep, when it’s untied it looks exactly like Kyle’s little Jew fro

Amanda Zoë Gilman (goes by Mandy)

A young blonde hair brown eyed girly girl that’s not afraid to get down and dirty if she needs to, she loves Pokemon and carries her strawberry scented Build-a-bear Pikachu Anton everywhere in his blue and orange bag. She loves to draw and carries a small sketchbook around with her in the bag Anton is in along with a pencil pouch of supplies, she wants to be a professional artist maybe even an Art teacher. Her knees are almost always just a little skinned up so it’s not abnormal to see her with bandaids on her legs or even her hands, she’s a fiercely loyal friend and protective of those she cares about.

Her father's name is Angel and her mother’s name is Cassandra

Theodosia Skylar

Theodosia was adopted from Africa by Catherine and Aaron Skylar who had 3 sets of twin boys and sadly after the last set Catherine couldn’t have any more kids but she desperately wanted a girl but boys ran in the family, they left the boys with Catherine’s parents one month of Summer and went to Africa where they met up some of Catherine’s old college roommate Monique who had just had a daughter that she named after her grandmother (Theodosia) but with the babies father dead she couldn’t bare to keep her, they adopted Theodosia and brought her home. At first, the Skylar’s expected her to be a serious Tomboy, Theodosia is still fairly girly despite living with nothing but boys aside from her mom. Theo’s dog is a Black Miniature Schnauzer Beetlejuice. She’s also not all too good at defending herself if she’s outnumbered or outmatched.

She’s got long Black hair often in pigtails

[vegabookishpoetry]

A Broken Court - Chapter Two

Cauldron save you.

The daughter of the High Lord of Spring was the Spring Court’s best kept secret. Since the day she showed up on her father’s doorstep, a babe swaddled in silks, Rosella’s life had been quiet, peaceful.

Until she met him.

Mother hold you.

The son of the High Lord and Lady of Night had everything he needed in life. Raven had grown up hearing stories of his family giving their all to destroy Hybern. He hadn’t needed to fight for peace, for the ones he loves the way his family had.

Until he met her.

Guide me to you.

Let me enter eternity.

————————–

“Cassian I swear to God if you don’t give it to me I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” Crush my spleen? Last time you threatened that it didn’t work out very well for you.”

“I may be hundreds of years younger then you but I can still hurt you...”

Raven chuckled, overhearing his uncle and his cousin bickering in the kitchen. They’d been going at it for a solid fifteen minutes now.

His aunt Mor sat on the sofa next to him, her usual glass of wine in hand. “What are they-“

A loud thud came from the kitchen, followed by Cassian cursing. “What the hell Ziana!”

“It’s not my fault you ran into the wall.”

“Get rid of your shadows or I will crush your spleen.”

Mor glanced at Raven, who shrugged as if saying don’t ask me. Raven chuckled. It wasn’t unusual to hear his uncle and cousin arguing about something.

From the day his uncle Azriel had brought Ziana to Velaris it was clear she’d fit right in with their family. Her quick retorts and mischievous attitude had made it clear that Cassian had competition.

Ziana was only three at the time. Azriel had found her wandering alone through an Illyrian camp. Her parents had feared her due to her appearent shadowsinger abilities, and left her to fend for herself.

Azriel hadn’t hesitated to take her under his wing, raise, and teach her how to control her abilities. Raven was older then Zai, if only by four years. He was seven when Azriel had flew down onto the patio of their home, eyes wide and a sleeping girl in his arms.

Raven remembers watching Zai toddle throughout the hallways of the river estate, usually with Azriel or Cassian in pursuit.

That was just under a hundred years ago. They’d grown older, but things stayed the same between Zai and Cassian.

Mor rolled her eyes, and Raven chuckled as Cassian bursted into the sitting room, quickly followed by Zai, her shadows wrapped tightly around her, as if readying themselves for an attack.

“Whats going on?” Raven asked his cousin, who was glaring at Cassian.

“Cassian’s being a shit,” Zai answered, giving their uncle a vulgar gesture.

Cassian stuck his tongue out at her, and turned on his heel to walk away, carrying a small box possessively in his hands.

“I swear to the cauldron, Cassian if you don’t give it to me,” Zai started, “I’ll lock you in the library with Bryaxis.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Cassian mocked.

“Wanna try me?”

“Just because that thing somehow likes you, doesn’t mean-“

Raven stopped listening and glanced between the two Illyrians, then at Mor, who returned the exasperated expression before asking, “What are you fighting about this time?”

“Cassian’s being a total shit and won’t give me the last piece of the pie Elain made,” Zai sneered, flaring her wings.

Cassian flared his wings back at her, and opened the box. He quickly shut it, and glared at Zai, who stuck her tongue out at him.

Zai pulled an identical box from behind her back. “You underestimate me, Cass.” She laughed, taking a bite out of the pie she had somehow acquired.

From his spot on the couch, Raven could see Cassian squint his eyes, planning a retort. Raven assumed he wasn’t able to come up with one, as he just sighed and chucked the empty box at Zai, who simply smirked and winnowed away.

“I swear to the Mother, that girl will be the death of me.” Cassian grumbles and falls down next to Raven on the sofa. 

“Maybe if you stopped acting like a child she’d stop,” Mor said, raising an eyebrow. Cassian opened his mouth, about to snap back, when the house seemed to rattle, and a loud crack echoed throughout the hallway and sitting room.

Ever the warrior, Cassian was instantly on his feet. Raven and Mor quickly followed as Cassian followed to noise to it’s source.

It hadn’t taken them long to find her. 

There, on the hallway floor, with a painting Raven’s mother had made torn all around her, was Nesta, clutching her knees to her chest.

~*~*~*~*~*

It was now three in the morning, and the inner circle was waiting anxiously in the sitting room. Nesta had passed out as soon as they found her. Cassian had quickly called in Maja, the circle’s most trusted healer.

Maja had left hours ago, saying to let Nesta rest and call her in again if anything seemed wrong. 

Raven was sitting on the couch, his little sister sleeping on his shoulder. His father and mother were talking quietly beside him, although he couldn't hear what they were so anxiously discussing. 

Amren was sitting on the floor, her silver eyes scanning the room, her gaze growing more intent as the minutes passed. Azriel had gone out scouting around Velaris for any kind of danger, and brought Zai with him. 

The room had been eerily quiet for nearly two hours now, the only sounds the muffled thuds of Cassian’s feet as he paced around the room. 

That was, until a loud scream echoed throughout the room. 

All eyes fell on Elain, who, up until a few moments ago, was sleeping on her mate’s shoulder. Lucien instantly wrapped his arms around his mate, whispering something in her ear that stopped her screaming.

She, however, was still shaking violently. She seemed to be muttering something, although too quiet to her. 

Feyre was on her knees by Elain, rubbing her shoulders, she said softly, “Elain, what are you seeing?”

The shaking calmed as Elain muttered, “A crack.”

“Can you tell me more Elain?” 

Elain looked at Raven with hollow eyes as she murmured, “Flowers. A girl. Fire. Water. Light and Dark.”

Lucien stroked Elain’s hair as her eyes filled up with tears, “Darling, can you tell us anything more?”

Elain looked at her mate and shook her head, “Not...yet....”

“Darling, what do you mean?”

“Not...until she...comes...”

Just then, with a creak of the floorboards, Nesta emerged, her face pale as snow. 

Cassain winnowed next to her, as if he couldn't stand taking the time to walk to her. Nesta looked at him, and murmured “I’m okay,” and walked straight to where Raven was seated.

Just as Nesta reached him, Elain shot out of Lucien’s arms and stood next to her sister in front of him.

“Raven,” they both said in unison. 

“Elain...Nesta,” Rhysand stood up, furrowing his brows, “What is this?”

The two sisters simply ignored him. “Raven.”

Raven slowly stood up, passing his sleeping sister to his father’s arms. The room seemed to darken as the Elain and Nesta stared at him. Lights flickered, and the floor seemed to sway. He tucked his wings in, readying himself for whatever was to come. 

“Raven, you have to listen to me,” Nesta softly said, reaching out to him, “The cauldron...it’s warning me about something.”

“What do I have to do with this?” He questioned.

Elain gasped another vision starting. “Raven, wherever she goes...death will follow.” She stared at him intently.

“Who?’ He 

Elain started shaking again, “Raven...” she gasped.

Then collapsed. 

The room turned quiet. Too quiet. As Lucien took his unconscious mate in his arms, Nesta turned to Raven once more. 

“You have to stay away from her.”

------------------------

Chapter three coming soon! I hope you all enjoyed getting to know Raven, as well as what the inner circle has been up to ;) 

Thanks for reading <3 

[omgsatisshroffme]

FRIENDS (Satis Shroff)

I sit on my chaiselonge, after serving Darjeeling to my friends, strengthened with masala and Sahne. There’s Murat from Turkey, Rosella from Italy, Stefan and Barbara from Rheinfelden, Frau Adolph from downtown Freiburg.

Rosella has brought North Italian flair and cakes that I relish, from Milano where she stent her holidays recently: pannetone with mascapone, champagne and tiramisu.

A kiss to the right, a kiss to the left, settles down and says: ‘Isn’t life wonderful, Satish?’ Hubby Samuel has expanded his aerospace factory.

My friend Murat, the personification of Miteinander, that is, togetherness in German, hands me a new novel, with his signature, written despite the protests of his family, keeping late hours to finish his Opus magnum: a story about his Allevite folk.

A pleasure and honour, but I’m afraid, I can’t read it: it’s Turkish to me.

Barbara and my poet friend Stefan have been to the Zermatt and have tales to tell, not only of Wilhelm and hnd his crossbow, but about the beauty of Switzerland.

Frau Adolph, the pensioned lady, glows like the sun: an infectious smile over her tanned face. No botox, only dentures, and tells of her adventures in Italy, Latin-lover inbegriffen, and of her Sudanese seduction. An elderly lady, a friend with style and aesthetic intelligence.

Ain’t it wonderful to have dear friends? Home abroad, abroad home. Shanti! Shanti! Peace which passeth understanding.

Now, I'm wiser. Friendships collapse. People go asunder. Peace is fragile.

Glossary: Chaiselonge: long French sofa Inbegriffen: included Miteinander: together, togetherness Shanti: peace Wechselrhythmus: changing rhythms Bahn: train Mumbai: Bombay Bueb: small male child Chen: Verniedlichung, like Babu-cha in Newari Schwarzwald: The Black Forest of south-west Germany

[facrytalcs-blog]

playing pretend.

it’s funny how finding out a single thing can change everything.

          ROSELLA DIDN’T KNOW how long she’d been poring over the old archives, searching for something that might seem familiar to her, but she’d come up with nothing, and was that really surprising ?? she barely knew what she was supposed to be looking for in the first place. all she’d learned through what she could understand ( which was a decent amount for a girl of eight years ) was more about the isle of the lost, and just how horrible a place it was.

          all she had known growing up was that it was a place where ❛ bad people go ❜, at least according to her teachers, but her parents had never liked the idea of it, and so she hadn’t, either. she had never had a personal attachment to the place.

          until now.

          she wasn’t stupid. she’d known from an even younger age that she was adopted. she looked nothing like her parents, or her extended family in corona. she had always been different, and her parents had always been upfront with her when she asked, and so she hadn’t had any problems.

          that was until she’d been walking past the parlour and heard her name mentioned in a loud scottish accent, which of course meant it could only belong to lady kluck. always nosy when her name was mentioned, she’d been about to go inside when she actually caught the gist of the conversation.

          ❝ you have to tell her eventually, marian, she already knows she’s adopted. she’ll find out sooner or later, and it’s best that she hears it from you. ❞

          ❝ i know, i know. ” her mother sounded so resigned, voice soft compared to lady kluck’s. ❝ i just wish i knew how to answer the questions she’ll probably have. there are so many, i... ❞

          ❝ relax, lovey, she’s a good kid. she’ll understand. you and robin have taught her well. it doesn’t matter if her parents are on the isle. they weren’t people with bad intentions, it was an accident, they were threatened. they wanted the best for their daughter, and so do you. she’ll see that. ❞

          ❝ she is, and i really hope so. ❞

          rosella had stopped paying attention the moment lady kluck mentioned the isle. when she’d asked a few years ago where her biological parents were, her mother had hesitated a moment before telling her they’d ‘ had to go away, but they love you, and would have taken care of you if they could. ’ now everything made so much more sense.

          but if her parents were from the isle, who they ?? and who was she ??

          which led her to now. there was a list of names of people who had been sent to the isle, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of it, especially since she didn’t even know her parents’ names. she’d tried researching about the isle, and while she hadn’t learned anything relevant to her problem, she’d succeeded in making herself feel worse than she already was. so many children had been forced onto the isle with their parents. what made her so different ?? if they deserved to be there ( which she didn’t think they did, really ), then shouldn’t she, too ??

          ❝ your highness ?? ❞

          the voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she looked up at the maid beside her. she was smiling, as most of the castle staff did. they were treated well with more than adequate wages, and robin and marian were flexible employers, so why wouldn’t they be ??

          but did their job include keeping this big isle secret ?? rosella couldn’t be sure.

          once it was obvious that she was paying attention, the maid said, ❝ it’s time for dinner, your parents are waiting for you. ❞

          rosella forced a smile and closed the books, turning them on their fronts as she did so the titles couldn’t be seen. ❝ thanks, i’ll be right there. ❞

          SOMETIMES DINNER WAS loud, mainly when lady kluck was there, and little john, too, since he and her dad were always bantering back and forth. tonight, it was just herself and her parents, which was the perfect opportunity for her to ask questions.

          she was subdued for most of the dinner, which was already strange. she was usually so animated, telling her parents what she’d done that day, asking what was going on in town and the like. tonight there was none of that.

          her parents shared several concerned looks over the course of the meal until robin finally spoke up. ❝ rosella ?? is something wrong ?? ❞

          ❝ when were you gonna tell me i’m supposed to be on the isle ?? ❞

          well, there it was, she supposed. she wasn’t really known for beating around the bush, and it was even worse at her current age. children were already known for having no filter, and for her, it was even worse.

          marian let out a soft gasp, most likely realising that she and lady kluck hadn’t been as discreet as she’d thought. rosella couldn’t see her face. she was too focused on frowning at her plate.

          ❝ you’re not supposed to be on the isle, ❞ marian said. she leaned over the table to rest her hand on rosella’s. ❝ you’re supposed to be here, with us. ❞

          ❝ but my parents are there. my real parents. ” rosella’s hand curled into a fist beneath her mother’s. ❝ and when parents go to the isle, their kids go, too. so why didn’t i go ?? ”

          robin and marian shared another look and rosella wished they’d stop. it wasn’t reassuring, and she was so busy trying to figure out what they were thinking that she almost missed when robin said, ❝ we met your parents right before they were taken away. you were only a few days old, they asked us to take you. they didn’t want you to have to live on the isle. we promised we’d raise you as our own, and so we are, and we will. ❞ he smiled at her. ❝ you’re still our daughter. ❞

          ❝ this doesn’t change anything, ❞ marian promised with a kind smile.

          EXCEPT IT DID change things. not with her parents or home, but with everything outside of it.

          the first time she went to a royal event after the revelation was difficult. all it took was one look at the fancy gowns, the delicious food, the high profile people for her to realise she didn’t belong there. it hadn’t been a problem when she’d found out she was adopted. she wasn’t the only royal child who’d been adopted, after all. but now it was different, because she was certain she was the only one who was supposed to be on the isle.

          ❝ go find your friends, ❞ marian said as she waved to queen eilonwy. ❝ you haven’t seen them in a little while, have you ?? i’m sure they’d love to see you. ❞

          rosella nodded, but didn’t move, even after her mother had disappeared into the crowd. perhaps her friends would be happy to see her, but if they knew the truth, then surely, they wouldn’t be. she didn’t have to tell them, but she couldn’t pretend that everything was fine, right ??

          she walked along the edges of the room, avoiding the dance floor and the food tables, feeling like a lone ant in a big city. she didn’t belong here, that much was obvious. even seeing her friends didn’t change things. everything was as it always was, with theo and emrys bickering in the corner, izzy falling asleep on her food while rosie tried waking her up, olyssia forcing all her friends in the immediate vicinity to dance with her. yet everything felt different.

          they hadn’t changed, but rosella had.

          it was that realisation that started the domino effect of her avoiding everyone. she didn’t want to be their friend, only for them to find out that she was keeping such a big thing from them and have them reject her. she knew that most of them didn’t like the isle, that they would likely be nice to the children there if they met them, but this was different. she was masquerading as one of them. she was being something she wasn’t.

          so the best option was to keep to herself as much as possible. she would only go to meet with them if her parents forced her to, and even then she would keep to herself. finding places to escape to during royal events became a talent after a while, and she would spend entire parties without talking to anyone, then pretending she did when her parents asked. they knew. they had to know that something was wrong, but she would shut them down whenever they tried to talk about it. no one was about to get her to changed her mind.

          she was eventually cornered in the bathroom at one of cordelia’s events. perhaps ❛ cornered ❜ wasn’t the right word, though, because helena would never do anything so aggressive.

          rosella was staring at herself in the mirror when helena walked in, a soft smile on her lips, clad in an olyssia original. they probably all were tonight. rosella was now exception, as much as she’d tried to resist, because olyssia was pushy.

          helena smiled at her, a gesture rosella didn’t return, mainly because she could barely look her in the eye. ❝ hi, rosella, are you enjoying yourself ?? ❞

         ❝ yeah, ❞ rosella lied, half-hearted. ❝ you guys have good parites. ❞ that part wasn’t a lie.

          helena’s smile grew at the compliment, but it soon faded away, replaced with a look of concern. rosella knew that look because she’d seen it on her mother plenty of times over the last few months, and she knew what was coming.

          ❝ did we... did we do something wrong ?? ❞ helena asked softly.

          ❝ no, ❞ rosella said, maybe a little too quickly, but it was the truth.

          helena seemed to accept her answer, nodding slowly, but she wasn’t done. rosella could tell. ❝ we’re just... we’re a little worried about you. you haven’t seemed yourself lately. ❞

          too bad rosella didn’t know what ❛ being herself ❜ even meant anymore.

          ❝ just know that if you ever need anything, you can talk to us. ❞ helena hesitated a moment. ❝ even if i’m not the best at giving advice -- and it doesn’t have to be me. i’m sure any of the others would be willing to listen to you. ❞

          rosella forced a smile. it was a small one, maybe even a sad one, but it was something. ❝ thanks, helena. ❞

          helena curtsied quickly, her version of a ❛ you’re welcome ❜ before leaving back the way she came. rosella waited for the door to shut before turning to the mirror again, and it was no wonder that helena and the others were worried about her. there were bags under her eyes ( from worrying about the party all last night ) and her dress didn’t quite fit right ( because she’d refused to come into the city for olyssia to measure her, so she’d had to guess how much she’d grown since last time ).

          she felt like a four year old’s dess-up doll.

          she felt like a sardine amidst a school of angelfish.

          she felt like a criminal among nobles.

          her fingers curled around the sink, nail polish scratching off and sticking to the basin. her grip was so tight that she thought she might break it. the only reason she let go was because she didn’t think she would be able to face the charmings if she did.

          SHE WAS ABLE to hold her emotions in throughout the remainder of the party and during the ride home, though her father could tell something was wrong. he always could. still, he didn’t question her about it, also knowing she would likely lie and say she was fine.

          the moment they pulled up outside the castle, she jumped out and ran through the double doors, ignoring her mother’s calls behind her. she didn’t want to speak to them. she didn’t want to speak to anyone.

          she ignored all the maids and butlers, ignored little john as she rushed past him on the stairs, ignored everyone and everything until she was safe inside her room. but that didn’t change anything. the feelings didn’t go away and she let out the screech she’d been keeping inside since seeing herself in the mirror.

          she tossed her tiara to the side of the room and ripped the skirt of her dress until the flower pattern was completely ruined. she would regret it in the morning when she woke up with dried tears on her face and her hair in knots, but for now, she needed to let it all out, and let it out she would.

          because she wasn’t a princess. she was just playing pretend.

[inksmudgesandcandlelight]

Hallo @casualwriter​​ I hope you don’t mind my rambling to your prompts, but they gave me major Alice In Wonderland vibes so I wanted to merge them together into a dream like writing sprint (even if it doesn’t really makes sense). If you happen to stumble upon this I hope that you enjoy it. :)

It wasn’t quite a lightning storm. Mainly because there was no lightning—only swarms of angered little fairies darting though the sky. Which was confusing, to say the least. As it hadn’t been storming before, or, Rosella guesses, fairy-ing. As she watches the fairies dart back and for, again, all of a sudden, everything in her vicinity shifted. Just a little. A couple of centimetres, that otherwise made no sense. All in the direction it was last pushed in. She saw the wall she had been leaning against suck back the shape of her hand, which would have been bizarre if it hadn’t been happening all night, while her bag on her shoulder (that she had swung out of the way to the left earlier) moved again of its own accord, in front of her. Everything freezes again and she’s left standing in her room at the stroke of midnight wondering why there were fairies dancing across the night sky, and why her room keeps shaking back in place. She moves everything back where it was meant to be.

“Why don’t you see me when you’re awake?”

“I’m not awake?” Rosella asks turning to her windowsill where a small quiet child was sitting. Or, what she assumed to be a small child. With the fairies out her window and the forever shifting walls in her room, this small person may be some other mythical creature, and it was really very rude to just assume things.

“Of course not, you can see me.” He replies and she frowns slightly, her window opens again, her bag swinging forward.

“Who are you?”

“Nessie.” He replies, “I’m a fae, if that’s what you mean.” Rosella frowns, hand reaching forward touching his arm. He was real. Fae were real, or, at least. In her mind they were. What an odd dream. First contact wasn’t quite like the books had imagined. No giant ships. No armies intent on assimilation, nor embassies wondering over every human trait, but then again, this was all happening in her head.

“I’m sorry,” she says suddenly blinking, “did you just ask me why I can’t see you when I’m awake?”

“You caught on have you?” He smiles sadly, she tilts her head, the items on her desk moving ever so slightly to the left, the fairies outside speeding up and slowing down.

“You’re not real,” she says simply.

“Whose to say?”

“Well,” she thinks for a moment. “I’m asleep right now, this is happening in my head.”

“So?” Nessie tilts his head and her bag moves in front of her again. She shoves it back rather annoyed now.

“So? You’re not real, you can’t be, I’ve imagined you.”

“Or I’ve imagined you.” She looks down at her hands.

“I’m quite positive I’m real.”

“Oh you are,” Nessie says, “so why can’t I be?”

“You’re quite confusing, how do I wake up?” Rosella asks peering out her window and watching the streets. But nothing abnormal was happening down there, it was all in the skies and her room.

“Why would you want to wake up?” Nessie asks.

“Because there’s fairies roaming the skies and a weird fae in my room.” She looks to Nessie, their faces inches apart and he turns to look at her desk, she follows his eyes an idea striking her mind. “Who is not real, in the slightest. It’s very odd you know?” She pushes off the windowsill and moves back to her desk, she tries pushing everything in the other direction then she had been, twisting her bag further over her right shoulder rather than her left.

“Clever,” Nessie says, and Rosella smiles, waiting for everything to move back. A few minutes go by and nothing happens.

“Well that’s dealt with then, how do I wake up?” She turns to Nessie. Or where Nessie had been. But her room was empty, as were the skies, there were no longer fairies but actual lighting striking the dark skies, her bed was warm still and her feet bare, she silently slips back under her covers, her bag now dropped over the coat stand in the corner of her room, watching the skies outside, completely missing messily wrote ‘Nessie’ in the fog of her window.

Situation prompts: Odd events

1. It wasn’t quite a lightning storm. Mainly because there was no lightning—only swarms of angered little fairies darting though the sky.

2. All of a sudden, everything in the vicinity shifted. Just a little. Couple centimeters. All in the direction it was last pushed in. The protagonist saw the wall they’d been leaning against suck back the shape of their hand, while the the bag on their shoulder (that they had swung out of the way earlier) moved again of its own accord.

3. First contact wasn’t quite like the books had imagined. No giant ships. No armies intent on assimilation, nor embassies wondering over every human trait. Just a quiet child sitting on their windowsill, asking, “Why don’t you see me when you’re awake?”

[pointy-eared-muse]

Graham... what have you done?

Quick poll, show of hands.  How many of my fellow King’s Questers were emotional wrecks by the end of Chapter 5 of King’s Quest 2015, thinking about how sad and beautiful and right-in-the-feels it was?  Most of you?  OK, that’s totally fair and reasonable.  You can put your hands down.  Now, how many of you, at the end of Chapter 5, were staring at your screen in dawning abject horror because you realized that Graham’s final act may have destabilized the political futures of multiple countries?  ...is it just me?  Maybe one person there in the back?  Anyone else?  OK, let me explain.  Spoilers ahead.

Now, I’m going to preface all this by saying I genuinely believe that Graham’s final decision was well-intentioned and motivated by love.  I think he saw a great deal of himself in Gwendolyn and honestly thought that she would make an excellent queen.  And, I do agree.  I think Gwendolyn has the potential to be a great ruler one day.

Key phrase there:  one day.

Because Graham literally just left his entire kingdom in the hands of a ten-year-old. (OK, I don’t actually know how old Gwendolyn is, but ten seems like a reasonable estimate.)

Now, I don’t doubt that Gwendolyn would be as well-supported as possible in her new role as queen.  I don’t doubt that Valanice, Rosella, her parents, and pretty much everyone in the Daventry castle would be right there to help her.  But still.  She is a young girl.  She has not yet developed the experience and maturity to be in that position.  Both her father and grandfather were pretty young when they each became kings, and she is roughly half the age they were at the time.  Look, I have a child about Gwendolyn’s age and I wouldn’t leave him in charge of breakfast, let alone a kingdom, and that’s under the best of circumstances.  Well-intentioned as it may be, the chances of this ending well for Daventry aren’t very good, even with help.  Somebody somewhere is bound to try and take advantage of her.  But it’s more complicated than that.

See, the game strongly implies that both Gart and Gwendolyn are only children and don’t have any siblings.  And if that is true, well, now, we have a problem.  Because, with Gwendolyn becoming queen of Daventry... the Land of the Green Isles no longer has an heir-apparent.  Whoops.

OK, I know what you’re thinking.  Why not just have Gart and Gwendolyn swap places?  She becomes queen of Daventry, and he becomes the future King of the Green Isles.  Problem solved, right?  Eh... maybe.  Because that’s definitely going to make an uphill fight for the both of them.  It’s unclear how much Gwendolyn has been coached at this point to lead a kingdom, but Gart has been being trained practically since birth to lead Daventry as the clear heir-apparent.  He knows Daventry well, can easily identify addendums by number, understands the people, history, geography, dangers, and culture of Daventry.  It’s his home.  But chances are, he doesn’t know all that much about the Green Isles---it’s unfamiliar territory at best and bound to be a culture shock.  And, to be honest, Gwendolyn will probably face similar struggles adapting to the Daventry way of life.  But, here is a key difference between the two realms:  on the whole, Daventry has been pretty chill about welcoming outsiders (goblins and evil wizards not withstanding).  Land of the Green Isles, though?  Land that is xenophobic enough that, by the request of its prior leaders, many maps either actively deny its existence or else deliberately misplace it so it is nearly impossible to find?  Land where almost any ship that attempts to sail there and actually finds it ends up wrecked?  Land of every island prepared to inventively kill any stranger who attempts to walk more than 5 feet inland from the shore? (If you’re wondering if I died a lot playing KQ6 as a kid, the answer is yes.  Yes, I did.)  Yeah...  Even in the best possible circumstances, Gart’s going to need a lot of luck if he’s going have any hope of succeeding as the next heir to the Green Isles, assuming he even gets the position.

But wait, you say, during KQ6 wasn’t there a lot of instability and turmoil going on because of Alhazred’s meddling?  And hasn’t he been gone for 30-ish years?  You are correct, but that still doesn’t change the fact that the Green Isles is pretty inherently hostile to outsiders.  Maybe some of that has changed under Alexander-Gwydion’s reign, but that kind of widespread cultural change is difficult to accomplish in one generation.  Xenophobia and mistrust rarely ever truly go away---they’re more likely to just go underground for a while and then pop back up at the first favorable opportunity.  And we actually don’t know how effective a ruler Alexander-Gwydion is.  Yes, he earned the respect of the various island leaders during his adventuring there, but he wasn’t brought up being taught how to govern.  It’s far more likely that Cassima is the true power on the throne of the Green Isles with Alexander-Gwydion being more of a figurehead.  We like to assume that the two of them ushered in a new era of peace and prosperity for the Green Isles... but what if they didn’t? What if the situation there is still politically precarious?

Because, see, as previously noted, there are some conspicuous and unexplained absences in the newest King’s Quest game.  One of them is Queen Cassima herself, and while we don’t actually know where she is or why,  my guess is that she stayed behind in the Green Isles instead of following her family to Daventry because things may well fall apart without her maintaining a presence.  And now, thanks to Graham, it’s just her there.  With Gwendolyn being queen of Daventry, we don’t know when or if Alexander-Gwydion will return to the Green Isles (I’m thinking more likely “when,” but it could take a while, be it weeks, months or even years).  And if the other islands perceive weakness or instability in the leadership of the Isle of the Crown, I’m pretty sure peaceful co-existence is not going to be the order of the day.  Whether this means each island becomes more insular, or the bickering and in-fighting between them flares up and intensifies, or there are threats of an all-out coup, I don’t know, but all in all, more than likely, things aren’t going to be smooth and peaceful.

And then there’s Edgar, also conspicuously missing with no explanation as to where he is or why, or even a definitive canon answer as to whether or not he’s a part of the Cracker family tree.  But for argument’s sake, let’s go with the generally-assumed belief that he is Gart’s father.  That would mean Gart would have as much (and probably more, actually) claim to being part of the Etherian court as he would that of the Green Isles, since there he’s a direct descendant of the ruling family, rather than just the king’s nephew.  And if you thought Green Isles politics and culture shock were hard... welcome to Faerie.

Now, the good news is that Oberon and Titania are effectively immortal, so the chances of Gart ever actually inheriting the throne and/or needing to lead are pretty small.  If he did find his place in the Etherian court, it’d most likely be as a courtier, a liaison, an ambassador or something like that.  At least, once he’s an adult.  As a kid, especially, though, probably every fairy and their dragonet is going to want to get their grabby little hands on Gart, especially the dark ones.  Because fairies are just weirdly obsessed with children in general, it’s far from the first time that wicked Etherians have tried to strike at Oberon and Titania through a child of their bloodline, and I still think it would be incredibly naive to assume that Lolotte and Malicia are the only threats to ever come out of Etherian society.

Again, we don’t actually know what happened to Edgar, but of the various theories I came up with, the one I like best is that Edgar has voluntarily (and heart-wrenchingly) separated from Rosella and Gart in an effort to keep them safe from the more dangerous factions of Etherian society.  I firmly believe that Edgar is motivated by the desire to Do The Right Thing, but growing up under Lolotte and being brainwashed by Malicia have left their mark on him.  He’s learned that the ends justify the means, he’s learned how to manipulate and deceive, how to plot and carry out plans in secret, how to literally get away with murder, and, most importantly, he’s learned how dark fairies generally think and behave. It’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, and he hates it, but he can’t think of a better solution to protect the people he loves most, so, while they stay in Daventry, he returns to Eldritch and Etheria, and at first, he tries lying.  He denies he still has feelings for Rosella, denies that they have a child together.  They can’t hurt his son if they don’t know he exists, after all.  But Edgar’s more the type to deceive through misdirection and omission, and outright lies don’t spin easily off his tongue; he stammers and falters when he tries.  Not to mention that any fairy with sufficient means, skill and determination can use Daventry’s cherished Magic Mirror as a window into the kingdom (if Genesta could, surely there are others, after all).  Rumors spread quickly among fairies, and the idea of a precious half-human prince who doesn’t realize what he’s capable of and being poised to lead a kingdom one day is a terribly tempting target.  Imagine what they could do with that impressionable mind, that untapped power...  And if this sweet little prince could be taken...  Etheria remembers the chaos that followed in the wake of losing their own Prince Edgar---how would Daventry handle the disappearance of its own heir?  King Graham is growing older and fears dark magic...  Goblins have been able to throw Daventry into disarray, and, overall, they’re downright primitive compared to the dark fairies of Etheria.  If the forces of dark magic took their prince, there would be war, surely.  And the humans would be no match against the fairies.  Daventry would become theirs.

So, now Edgar has to switch tactics, because simple denial is pointless.  It becomes a cat-and-mouse game, where the best defense is a good offense. It’s his fault that Daventry is at risk, so it’s his duty to prevent both personal tragedy and war between the realms.  He’s on the proverbial front lines, rooting out the places where evil flourishes, doing all he can to quash the ambitions of those who would hurt Gart or Rosella and/or cause a war.  Once in a while, maybe, he slips away to visit Daventry, to catch a glimpse of his son and his beloved Rosella.  Quietly, he encourages sending Gart on adventures, to keep him away from the Magic Mirror where he might be spied upon, to hone the skills of survival, resourcefulness and handling adversity, because he will need them one day.  Maybe out in the wilds, the magic in him will awaken, and he can practice it away from Graham’s potential worry and disapproval.  Perhaps, just perhaps, it is Edgar who fervently pleads with Graham in hushed corners to not let Gart grow up too soon, to let him be a boy, to keep him sheltered from too much public attention.  Don’t let him become king until he is too old to tempt those who would corrupt him.  And Graham doesn’t---he ends up choosing his other grandchild to succeed him.

Meanwhile, Gart is being raised human.  It’s a bittersweet prospect in Edgar’s eyes, having known what it’s like to grow up not knowing the truth of what you are, but, for now, it’s for the best.  Gart doesn’t yet understand the sacrifices his father is making on his behalf, or the power that lies sleeping in his veins.  He grows to believe that Daventry is his birthright, not realizing that someday his father’s battles may become his own.  One day, he will understand, but that day may come sooner than expected with his younger cousin now the acting queen.  There’s a chance the dark fairies may try to use her to get to Gart, appealing to her youth, her innocence, her own fascination with magic. 

Daventry has never been more vulnerable in living human memory.  And two other nations may be on the brink of open conflict because of it.

...long story short, if there’s a follow-up game to this, I really hope it’s about Gwendolyn and Gart trying to navigate the political hellscape they’ve just inherited.

[supercultshow]

Howdy all you Supercultists out there on the interwebz! I’m Bad Movie Professor Cameron Coker (BS in “The Best Worst Movie” with a minor in “Vegetarian Vampires ”) and I’ll be posting my hype-tacular speeches every week along with some long lost speeches from past Supercult Shows!

This week Supercult tries desperately to woo female passerby after learning deadly seduction techniques from Troll 2!

It’s time for the Waits family vacation! Time for small town comforts, relaxation, and good eats. Unfortunately, they won’t be doing the eating. Young Joshua Waits soon discovers that the quiet vacation town isn’t all that it seems and that his family is being targeted by man-eating monsters. Can he warn his family and escape from this nightmare made real? Be afraid… be TWICE as afraid with Troll 2!

This illustration of trolls pains an unrealistically high standard for the costume work in this film.

Eat this magic ice cream filled with sap spoon fed to you by a monster and a bunch of creepy townsfolk. It’ll be FINE!

“Let me give you some helpful advice, you… dwarves. Get out of here… or you will be in a lot of trouble.”

There are some generally gruesome moments in the film that hint at a decent horror premise. Then someone speaks and the moment is ruined.

…Seriously?

Joshua: A double-decker bologna sandwich! Creedence: Aaahhh! Think about the cholesterol! Think about… THE TOXINS…!

Deborah Reed, the goblin queen of Troll 2, had to create her own costume for the film from her own wardrobe since nothing the crew could find looked appropriate for the part. She owned virtually everything she wears on camera and it suffered some pretty substantial green goop abuse on set.

I’m your dead Grandpa! Have a Molotov cocktail!

YOU CAN’T PISS ON HOSPITALITY!

Apparently, after the actor’s character is transformed into a humanoid tree, the director nailed his shoes into a potted plant and had him stand still there for 14 hours. Classic Hollywood!

Sponsored by 1990s Nickelodeon Slime!!

Manos: The Hands of Fate, The Room, Plan 9 From Outer Space…these are movies that many refer to as “the worst films ever made”. Troll 2 walks up to those movies and smears green goop in their faces and pisses on their dinner. About everything you could possibly imagine could go wrong, did go wrong during this film. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves here. First let’s talk about Harry Potter.

In 1986 Charles Brand produced Troll, a fantasy comedy film about a family moving into a new apartment complex in San Francisco only to discover that in the transition their daughter has been possessed by a magical creature plotting to transform the entire apartment into a forested fantasy microcosm of elves, nymphs, goblins, and (you guessed it) trolls. Charles Brand produced the film while heading Empire International Pictures, his personal indie-studio which released such seminal classics as Assault of the Killer Bimbos, Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-O-Rama, and Supercult Classic Robot Jox. Later Charles would fold up Empire and start a new studio, Full Moon Features, which would go on to produce Supercult Classic Dollman. By all accounts Troll was a mediocre piece of dark fantasy whose most interesting factoid is that, quite by coincidence, the family in the film is named the Potter family including Harry Potter Sr. and his teenage son Harry Potter Jr.

Okay, now put that aside for a sec while we pivot to Italy where Rosella Drudi, wife of director Claudio Fragasso, was frustrated at the fact that several of her friends were becoming vegetarians. Look, we’ve all been there, especially when they start handing you leaflets, recommending Netflix documentaries, and sharing articles with you on facebook. However, few of us have been so frustrated that we write a film script. The script, originally titled “Goblins” depicts the titular monsters as vegetarians only able to eat plant matter, so the monsters force people to eat special foods that convert them into vegetable paste. Rosella said, “I came up with a story about [goblins] who were vegetarians because at that point in my life, I had many friends who’d become vegetarians and it pissed me off…So I had the idea of replacing the vampires in the [traditional] vampire story with vegetarians.” Little did she know, she was writing the script to what would later become the worst film ever created.

Troll 2 was produced by Eduard Sarlui and Joe D’Amato, an Italian exploitation film director notorious for his view that film profitability is more important than their entertainment value (I mean, a lot of producers think that, but he was notorious for saying it out loud, I guess?). As a result, many components of the film were created on a shoe-string budget. The score, composed by Carlo Maria Cordio, was played entirely on a Korg M1 synthesizer and consisted of a few brief themes repeated over and over, including a sped-up M1 demo track. The costumes were designed by D’Amato’s longtime friend and frequent collaborator Laura Gemser, who made a name for herself as a 70s and 80s grindhouse and erotic film actress. The costumes consisted of burlap sacks and rubber Halloween masks (some of which were reused in later D’Amato films) and one mask that was licensed off the set of the original Troll film, only one of which was modified to have a movable mouth. The whole film’s estimated budget comes to around $200,000. For comparison that’s %0.2 of the Budget for The Rock starring Nic Cage, 1% of the budget for Vampire’s Kiss, also starring Nic Cage, %57.1 of the budget of Valley Girls also starring Nic Cage, or approx. 10 times the budget of Manos: The Hands of Fate, unfortunately not starring Nic Cage.

The entire film was shot on location in Morgan and Porterville, Utah in the summer of 1989, presumably for the sake of reducing costs. The production crew was made up almost entirely of non-English-speaking Italians including the husband and wife co-directors Claudio Fragasso and Rossella Drudi. Though the cast had a few experienced actors, most were assembled from residents of nearby towns who responded to an open casting call hoping for roles as extras. Little did they know they would wind up with starring roles in one of the best/worst things to happen in all of cinema. According to George Hardy, who played Michael Waits, was (and still is) a dentist with no acting experience who showed up for fun only to be given one of the film’s largest roles. Pon Packard, who played the store owner, was actually a patient at a nearby mental hospital. He was cast and filmed his entire role while on a day trip and later recalled that he had smoked an enormous amount of marijuana prior to filming, had no idea what was happening around him, and that his disturbed “performance” in the film was not acting.

George Hardy said the script suffered from a major language barrier and was only given to them scene-by-scene: “The way it was written was not the way Americans speak. One of us would say to Claudio … ‘This is not the way you say this in America.’ But they would say, ‘No, no, no, this is the way you do it.’ We just did what we were told. I think that was because of the language barrier. How can you argue with someone who doesn’t understand what you’re saying?” Even if they weren’t forced to read the script as written, it wouldn’t save the film from being about evil vegetarian goblins and one boy’s crusade to talk to his dead grandpa and pee on all the food to protect his family. Oh, did I not mention that? Yeah, you were probably thinking that the infamous “Oh my God!” scene was the cream of the crop. Get this: to keep his family from eating a face-full of goblin contaminated food young Joshua, played by Michael Stephenson, stands up on the table and urinates on everything. “In the original script I jump on the table and I say, ‘I’m possessed, I’m possessed,’” Stephenson told Entertainment Weekly. But as soon as this scene was actually performed, Fragasso decided to tweak it. “You!” he told Stephenson. “You walk around the table, up to the chair, and piss on this food.” The child actor was speechless: “I [thought], ‘Did I just hear this right?’” Stephenson recalled. Still, he followed Fragasso’s directions. Little did he know he would later that kid grew up, had kids, and have to tell them about his 5 minutes of fame on the set of the worst film ever created. Count your goddamn blessings, Supercultists!

By now you must be wondering what all this has to do with the original Troll film, the Potters, and the plot about a mischievous creature turning 80s malcontents into Norse mythology clichés. Well, nothing, actually. Troll 2 has absolutely no connection to the original Troll film and technically isn’t a sequel. The creatures in Troll 2 are referred to as goblins or hobgoblins and the word troll is never once uttered on camera. The distributors in the US felt that the film would not succeed on its own as a stand-alone project, so they insisted it be named Troll 2 to capitalize on the minor success of the original Troll film…which is like naming the first in a new line of luxury airplanes the Titanic 2 to capitalize on the minor success of the ocean liner.

Troll has a 2.8 on IMDB and a 6% on Rotten Tomatoes, but sources say that it at one time had a 0%. It’s been featured on RiffTrax, been the subject of a high profile internet meme, and has been compared to Rocky Horror Picture Show in terms of its cult appeal. Trolls is so bad that, like the Room, it has had books, and films created about its ill-fated production process, most notably 2010’s Best Worst Movie, from which I am shamelessly stealing many quotes and factoids. Nevertheless, the film got two weird pseudo-sequels. Confusingly, both Quest for the Mighty Sword (1990) and The Crawlers (1993) are also known as Troll 3. Both have a mere tangential relationship to Troll 2 or the original Troll film. So, to keep this strained metaphor going, it’s like naming a skyscraper Titanic 3 and then a line of toaster pastries Titanic 3, because the pastries were made in the same town as the plane and the skyscraper has one of the people who worked on the plane working in it.

As with many films dubbed “the worst film ever” Troll 2 is by far not the worst thing ever. It is made by competent filmmakers with a solid understanding of lighting and cinematography. It had what some would call a budget. There are many films that are technically worse from craftsmanship perspective. Show me an iPhone, $200,000, and an average college film class and I will show you a worse film than Troll 2. No, what makes Troll 2, The Room, or Plan 9 the worst films of all time is that they were made by competent people who, little did they know, were actually working to create something laughably bad. It’s the “little did they know” affect that turns horrible tragedy into gut-busting comedy. There is something poetic, like an Aristotelian drama, about the creation of a film that is so bad that it’s good. Aristotle wrote on the principles of a tragic hero, that they must be not too good, too pitiful, nor too evil, that they must be highly renowned and prosperous, and that their misfortune must befall not from vice or depravity but by some error or frailty. This is how you create a story that creates both pity, for unmerited misfortune, and fear that the same could conceivably happen to ourselves. Troll 2 and many other Supercult Classics are perfect tragedies of well-meaning people setting off to accomplish something grand and realizing only after the fact that they’ve created a monster. So why is this tragic tale so gosh darn funny? Simple: Tragedy plus time is comedy.

Tonight we revel in that tragicomedy! Get out your green milk and your yellow shirts than inexplicably change half-way through the film! One was not enough!

The Supercult show presents Troll 2!

Palette cleanser anyone?

Troll 2 Howdy all you Supercultists out there on the interwebz! I’m Bad Movie Professor Cameron Coker (BS in “The Best Worst Movie” with a minor in “Vegetarian Vampires ”) and I’ll be posting my hype-tacular speeches every week along with some long lost speeches from past Supercult Shows!

[aheathen-conceivably]

It had been three days since anyone had seen Virginia. Oliver had been out searching Henford for her, but Florence had barely left their bedroom since she had gone missing. Her daughter was only fifteen, far too young to have run off with a boy, so Florence lay there paralyzed, wide awake and sick with worry, fearing for the worst.

As the night fell on the third day, Rosella was upstairs with the youngest siblings, telling them stories to distract them from the growing panic gripping the small cottage. Downstairs, Oliver was stroking Florence’s hair, calmly insisting that it was finally time to go to the authorities.

Suddenly, they heard a knock on the front door and the family sat up in apprehension, not knowing if Virginia had come home or if an officer was there to deliver the news that they all feared. Florence and Oliver rushed to the hallway, only to find Virginia standing in the threshold, her white clothes dirty, eyes baggy, and hair askew.

Florence immediately ran to her, embracing her in relief. For just a moment, Virginia allowed her mother to hold her, something that she hadn’t done since she was a child. Wrapped in her mother’s arms, Virginia forgot about the homeless and the motherless for just a second; she stopped thinking of the voiceless and the powerless, and only cried for the suffering that she had been through the last three days.

When she finally opened her eyes she met those of her father, cold and blue just like her own. They were filled with nothing but concern when he finally broke the silence, “Virginia, my child, where in the world have you been?”

Virginia shook free of her mother’s grasp, clearing her throat and responding with a voice full of rehearsed confidence, “I was in prison, with the suffragettes.”

Anger flashed in Oliver’s eyes, momentarily blotting out the concern that had encompassed him just a moment before, “Young lady, you tell us exactly what happened. Right now.”

Part 1/2

[pointy-eared-muse]

I love the new King’s Quest game with all my heart, and I’m so thrilled it has become the vehicle leading my son to love this series as much as I do, but I am troubled by the absence of certain characters in it. Logically, I’m sure it’s because of things like budget and time constraints, but in terms of the internal canon... (Spoilers ahead)

I understand the lack of Connor, because the story is pretty hyperfocused on the Cracker family, and, let’s be real, Connor barely knows them and is, for the most part, an Average Daventry Citizen.  I’d have loved to have seen him make a cameo around town (I like to think he and Amaya would have gotten along), but I can understand him not being included.

Cassima’s absence is much more puzzling, especially since her daughter is so central to the story.  She gets mentioned a couple of times, but it’s odd that she never shows up.  I mean, Gart tells Gwendolyn that he’s glad she and her family have made it to Daventry, and, uh, last I knew, that should have included Cassima.  And there’s no obvious reason why she’s missing.  To be honest, if I were Cassima, I’d be more than a little concerned about certain decisions being made for my daughter without me being able to be there and weigh in on them.  My personal theory is that Cassima stayed behind in the Green Isles because she doesn’t trust leaving the kingdom on advisor-autopilot, considering what happened last time both the king and queen (i.e., her parents) weren’t around to keep things under control.  Hopefully things have become considerably more politically stable in the 30-ish years since KQ6, but I wouldn’t blame her for being paranoid enough to insist on sticking around.  Also, maybe she’s aware that Graham has come to the end of his life, and, considering what happened to her parents, she doesn’t feel like she can handle witnessing another parental-figure death.  It’s definitely odd to me, but maybe she’s got a good reason for not being there.  

And then there’s Edgar.  What happened to Edgar?  I am actually very concerned by Edgar’s absence.  Seriously, where is he, and why is he not around?  He gets mentioned exactly once, when Gwendolyn asks in Chapter 4 why Graham didn’t just make Rosella his heir (sexist addendums not withstanding), and he answers, “She was always off on her own adventures with Edgar.  Then she had Gart, and she was much more interested in training him to be King.”

SAY WHAT NOW?  WHAT.  HAPPENED??  No, for real, I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED HERE.  BECAUSE I AM VERY MUCH BOTHERED BY THE IMPLICATIONS OF THAT STATEMENT.

For one thing, Gwendolyn does not follow that statement with “Edgar who?” which tells me that she must at the very least know about him, even if she may or may not know him personally.  Edgar is also the most likely candidate to be Gart’s father (the KQ wiki even lists him as such), though it seems odd that this is never actually confirmed within the game.  But the way Graham talks about Edgar there...  It kinda sounds like he implied that at some point during all that adventuring (which was probably the courtship Edgar asked for at the end of KQ7), Edgar sired Gart on Rosella and for whatever reason was not around to help raise him. Which... does not sound like something the Edgar I have come to know and love would do, at least willingly or purposefully, or without a very good reason.  And I also find it strange that during the dinner scene in Chapter 4, not only is there no chair for Edgar at the table (nor one for Cassima), but there is ZERO mention of him in all that succession talk, and, theoretically, he should have been in the running somewhere??  At least, more likely so than Kyle, as Alexander suggests.  So, again, I ask:  what the heck happened?  I have a few possible theories.

Possible theory #1:  Edgar’s already dead.  There are three possibilities regarding Edgar’s life expectancy:  1) As an Etherian prince, Edgar is effectively immortal unless somebody kills him again (and, who knows, maybe someone did); 2) when Genesta transformed him into a more-or-less human form, she also ended up making him mortal and giving him a human lifespan; 3) since Rosella used the black cat’s extra life to restore Edgar, he has the life expectancy of your average cat, which, for most cats, is somewhere between 12 and 20 years, give or take.  And since it’s probably been 25-30 years since then, it’s possible his cat life has run out, and also possible it may have run out while Gart was still very young.  Morbid, sure, but a tidy explanation.

Possible theory #2:  Fairy shenanigans.  This feels to me like the most likely scenario, because, let’s face it, fairies are jerks.  Even if they aren’t out-and-out evil, like Lolotte and Malicia, they operate on a whole different value system than humans.  And one thing that they value very highly is children.  Consider how Oberon and Titania left Etheria pretty much unattended for YEARS while they tried to track down Edgar, running off on every tiny rumor they thought might be a lead.  Not to mention that both Lolotte and Malicia struck their blows at Oberon and Titania, and Etheria itself, through kidnapping and manipulating poor Edgar.  It would be pretty naive to believe that Lolotte and Malicia are the only bad apples to have ever come out of Etherian society, so who knows what other threats may have emerged since the events of KQ7.  Maybe Edgar got kidnapped again and is being held prisoner or brainwashed somewhere.  Maybe Oberon and Titania THEMSELVES are more or less keeping their son under house arrest for fear of losing him again.  Or maybe, just maybe, this is how “overprotective parenting” has manifested in Edgar.  Because, now that Edgar’s all grown up, he’s probably not as interesting a target for the unsavory residents/exiles of Etherian society, but you know who would be?  His son.  His precious, beautiful, half-human, only son, poised to inherit another kingdom.  That’s like dark fairy catnip right there.  And the best way to protect Gart from them is if they do not know that he exists, forcing Edgar to do the hardest thing in his life: keeping his distance from his family and pretending he no longer loves Rosella, or has a child with her, in order to keep them both safe.  Or, if they have learned about Gart’s birth, that Edgar is on the front lines in Etheria doing all he can to keep them from getting anywhere near his baby boy, because by the time dark fairies start invading Daventry to get to the young prince, it’s too late to do much about them.  Not to mention the fact that if they succeeded, there would probably be war between the two realms, and nobody wants that (or maybe there’s someone who does and Edgar is trying to prevent it).  Or maybe, in a likely parallel to Cassima, Edgar has to stay in Eldritch to help keep its various factions from causing the realm to go hell in a handbasket, which, let’s be real, would be something a disgruntled Etherian would start.  Again.  Thanks, Malicia.

Possible theory #3: Edgar and Rosella’s relationship just didn’t end up working out.  I’m sure they tried really hard, but maybe they realized they were better off as friends.  Maybe it fell apart because it’s unlikely that Edgar has any idea how healthy relationships actually work, and the dynamic they fell into just couldn’t be sustained.  Maybe it’s one of those “faerie bride” (or, in this case, fairy groom) scenarios, that are passionate and romantic, but ultimately short-lived because humans and fairies just aren’t long-term compatible and their relationships are doomed from the start.  And so, with a heavy heart, Edgar just bowed out or maybe he straight-up ghosted, I don’t know.  It’s a sad possibility, but sometimes relationships, even those resulting in children, just don’t make it to happily ever after.

Possible theory #4:  Edgar normally would be there, but is out adventuring *right now* in an effort to find a way to help Graham.  Oh, man, this one is just heartbreaking, but I could see Edgar volunteering to go out and search the ends of the multiverse for a cure, trying to cut deals with the Fates, whatever he has to do, all the while telling Rosella and Gart to stay in Daventry so they can be there for Graham and Valanice.  And just imagine how sad he would be to find out that, despite it all, it’s too late, even if he does make it back to Daventry with something helpful, blaming himself because he just wasn’t quick enough.

Possible theory #5:  Edgar *is* around, we just don’t see him because he’s being shy/socially-avoidant.  Shyness is one of Edgar’s defining traits in KQ4, and, all things considered, he probably never entirely grew out of it.  He didn’t have the opportunity to learn how to socialize normally until adulthood, because Lolotte and Malicia kept him so isolated.  And, bear in mind, during that time, he was never socialized to be around other males (unless you count the goons, who don’t really talk much and may or may not actually be masculine)--it was always women who primarily interacted with him.  The first time we actually see him interact with another guy, he gets into an immediate brawl with him.  Though he does later hug his dad, so that’s good.  But still, I could totally understand Edgar having trouble with social interactions, be it from just a lack of skills, or even up to having severe social anxiety.  Maybe, for some reason, Edgar just doesn’t get along very well with Graham and/or Alexander, and so is avoiding them.  Maybe he gets along with them fine, but only if it’s one-on-one contact, and he just doesn’t handle group interactions well.  This could be why he left his own party prior to the events of KQ7, and maybe why he’s not on the succession list, if he feels too overwhelmed by the prospect of having to do royal functions like meeting with advisors or the public, and so maybe deliberately asked to not be Graham’s heir.  Or, maybe he can handle groups in small doses, but the added stress of Graham’s imminent death is just using up all of his spoons, and having already been through the traumas of both losing a parental figure and dying himself (and being brought back), he simply cannot cope with it AND be there for the rest of the family.  Therefore, he’s spending this time in his own safe space by himself, trying desperately to hold it together.

So, yeah.  I don’t know what happened to Edgar, or why he, Cassima and Connor aren’t part of this story, but I miss them and I’m sad they didn’t make it into the game.