#are they the real reason for the fire that burned the library of alexandria

[mychemicalpanicatthefallout]

Person: Wow! The ancient Egyptian pyramids were such an amazing feat of engineering that they're still here thousands of years later!

Ghost of ancient Egyptian who helped build the pyramids hearing this: Hell yeah man we worked so ha--

Person: it was obviously done by aliens since ancient people were way too stupid to have figured that out

Ghost: *looks at the camera like they're on the office*

[glimmerglue]

Gloria shuffles through the pile of messages, commands waiting to be sent and received. The pile is expansive, big enough that she has been at it for hours, reading through the backlog of files and sorting them accordingly.

This really shouldn’t be a one-person job, but at this point Gloria doesn’t mind. She has all the time in the world, though her superiors would say otherwise. Pushy bureaucrats, the lot of them.

Gloria has forgotten how long she has been with the Commission. Decades? Half a century? She can’t keep track, time slipping away as other employees come and go, some aging and disappearing, some slipping away like a dream, as if they were never there in the first place.

There are some constants. Gloria is a constant. The Board of Directors is a constant. Herb, Dot, some others, they have all been around just as long as Gloria.

But Gloria has been there the longest. That, she is sure of.

She picks up a new file and flips through it, reading through the message alongside it to ensure that the information matches.

It’s her job to monitor communications, and she takes it seriously, scanning each one through carefully.

Agents have tried to slip stuff past her before. Fake missions to famous points in time, all on the Commission’s dime, as if she simply wouldn’t notice the ‘last minute mission changes’ and ‘bonus vacation time’. She always notices.

She is the one who keeps the Commission running smoothly, making sure to catch those inclined to break the rules. Some might see her as ‘unneeded’, but more often than not, those people are the same ones who would take advantage of any leeway given. Any opportunity.

She sets down the file in her hands, deeming it clear. Opening a tube, she pops a slip of paper inside and sends it off. Her pile of papers is slightly smaller. She smiles and turns to the next file.

Recently, (or not so recently, depending on who you ask), the Commission has been firing people, removing positions that they deem outdated. Gloria is quite aware that she could be next on the chopping block.

Gloria knows that she is one of the only people left who still has an ‘old job’. A job that is simply manual labour, an unneeded extra party. An obsolete cog in the machine. She doesn’t think that her superiors realize how vital her job is. She is their guard dog, the one on the inside making sure that no one gets too greedy. After all, she is the only one left who stands between Commission employees and limitless access to time itself.

The Board of Directors are fools, she sometimes thinks. It’s a bit rude, but they never come down from their stuffy offices. Never realize just how brutally competitive employees can get, especially between the more bloodthirsty ones. Gloria stays away from those ones, thank you very much. She has enough on her plate.

Still, they haven’t fired her yet, nor have they transitioned her to a new environment, but she suspects that it is only a matter of time. She doesn’t think they realize how often other employees attempt to take advantage of the lax security.

The Handler, for one. Gloria scoffs. That woman is like a shark.

To be fair, Gloria takes advantage of the lax security as well.

…She has, ah, a guilty pleasure. Really, more like guilty hobby. Gloria, in her old life, was a historian. One with a particular passion for film and photography. She was quite good at her job. Excellent, even.

And then the Commission gave her a job offer that was too good to not take… how could she say no, when she would have more access to knowledge than she could ever fathom? When she would be appreciated for her efforts in a workplace that would actually accept her? How could she not?

One of the perks of working for a company that controls the flow of time and space is that it is easier to access technology, information. Easier to access records.

And well… one thing led to another. Now, every Friday (or what can be presumed to be a Friday), she smuggles some new film out of the infinite switchboard.

What can she say. A woman does what she must.

And really, it is utterly wasted just sitting there. The infinite switchboard has access to every and any instance in time, enough to make any history documentary crew salivate. And yet it is never used. Sitting there, just wasting away.

Sure, the Commission is constantly changing the timeline, tweaking events, rendering the records obsolete with each new mission, but that is all the better! If Gloria had her say, every timeline ever created would be committed to film, with all shots taken from the actual event as it happened. No filming crew would be needed, no actors re-creating a scene to the best of their ability. Just real, actual events, with real, actual scenes, and real, actual, accuracy.

She can already see it, a section committed to preserving past timelines, preserving records of lives that no longer follow the same path. It could be magnificent.

She had suggested the idea once, to the Board. They said no. Too expensive, apparently. Rather pointless, they called it. Records of past timelines? Shouldn’t exist beyond the required paperwork, apparently, because once they are changed, they no longer matter. Apparently, it would also be a grave misuse of the infinite switchboard.

Gloria begs to differ. It stews rage in her soul, all that material chucked to the wayside because it’s ‘unimportant’, ‘too expensive to utilize for no reason’. Ha. They wouldn’t know ‘unimportant’ if it bit them in the ass.

Regardless, the Board was set in their decision. So, she had to find alternatives.

If anyone asks, it’s the Board’s fault for her slow descent into thievery.

She does it at least once a week, now, sneaking into the infinite switchboard room, turning it on and slowly creating tapes, hoarding new scenes of historical events, adding them to her treasure trove.

She has amassed quite the collection, at this point.

It wasn’t too difficult, either. A benefit of having become a staple in office life is that few questions are asked when she enters an important room that she just might not have clearance for. Better yet, sometimes people just let her in, assuming that she is supposed to be there. Gloria is grateful for these assumptions.

And every night, when she has a few hours to herself, she tacks away at her new editing projects. Frankensteining together new footage, new stories.

She has made almost a hundred historical documentaries at this point, some that have been rendered null by the changing tides of time, but others remain accurate.

She has one about the burning of the Library of Alexandria. She has one about the numerous time agents who were sent and failed to cause the Hindenburg disaster. She has one about the 2005 Bermuda Triangle crisis. And her favourite, one that followed the life of Queen Diane.

She has so many films. It’s a shame that she never dares share them with anyone, for fear of being discovered by the Board. Maybe someday she’ll show someone. She suspects Dot would like them. In fact, she made a specific one dedicated to Dot’s unending enthusiasm for conspiracy theories.

Maybe one day. But not right now. Right now, Gloria has messages to sort through.

She slips another message into a tube.

She has messages to send.

[anaban44]

Head canon SCP-035

Historical context:

Greek empire (2000 BC -146 BC), taking into account Hellenism greek empire dies 30 BC

Roman empire (476 BC – 1453 AC)

Concrete idea of ​​muses as adult women (700 BC)

Burning of the Alexandria library at the hands of the Romans (47 BC)

Burning Rome by Nero (64 AC)

Traveling with the Crusaders, 13th-14th century

SCP-035 was found in a sealed crypt in an abandoned house in Venice, in 18██. Ubications:

Crete (place where 035 was hidden)

Athens (place where he established his cult)

Rome

Alejandria

Syracuse (plays an important role in the creation of Alagadda, but we won't focus on that now)

France (traveling with the crusaders he meets 049)

Venice (place where it is abandoned in a crypt)

Leyend:

"Forged by Hephaestus the god of fire and using the laughter of the Muse Thalia as a gift for the Muse Melopomene. However Hera, out of spite, snuck in one of Melopomene's mournful sonnets into the forge. Hephaestus discovered this trickery and discarded the mask; causing it to fall to Earth.

Was used by actors in Theatre of Dionysus; the mask absorbed their mental energy, allowing the demon in the mask to be born. The actors continued to wear the mask after the fact.

First host was Iphiclus in 426 BCE.(he never say the year, I´m trying to prove the legend have logical if we just change the year) In Crete: 035 claimed to be a fallen god. But Hera discovered this and had Poseidon summon a tsunami to destroy 035's cult. 035 took revenge on Hera by destroying the Greek Empire. He then burned Alexandria's Library; but regretted seeing the information and art destroyed in the blaze. To redeem himself, 035 lashed out against the empires who invaded Greece in the future: when Rome conquered Greece, 035 influenced Nero's madness to damage the Roman Empire." https://youtu.be/1MU7s8zTDtk

Important Facts:

· Iphiclus is a common name in Crete, knowing about Greek mythology Iphiclus was the name of the half brother of Heracles BUT, it cannot be the one who wear Dyo Polonoi, because he was described as a warrior who died in battle, and the leyend of Heracles goes far tan 1600 BC.

· The Theatre of Dionysus was created in the second half of VI century BC IN ATHENA not Crete

· Iphiclus was the first man who wore him for a bit longer tan a 10 years, then he was discover by Hera. 035 did not always kill his hosts, that is, he did not always produce that black substance 035 has always presented the ability to induce people to act on their behalf

even if he tries to appear in control there is always a "piece of personality" from his hosts that functions as a kind of "conscience". the identity of the black lord is attributed to him

Theory:

Probably Hephasestus tried to get rid of 035 by hiding it in Crete, very far of “the house” of the muses, thats means he was undiscovered for a very long time, and then 035 was "activated" already at the end of the Greek empire.

Crete was conquered in 69 BC, which may mean that Iphiclus found the mask when he fled from the Roman invasion, managing to survive reaching Athena, once 035 born, Iphiclus and him work like parners in the Theatre of Dionysus, 035's skills would attract the attention of citizens who would begin to be his followers, after ten years he was discovered by Hera, who send a Tsunami and kill most of his cult.

Considering this, we are saying that at that time 035 had 10 years of life "a child", an unstable being who does not fully understand feelings (at that moment) and that the only thing he can feel is uncontrollable anger and saddness

That´s lead us to believe that 035 was founded by the Romans in 59 BC, same year when Julius Caesar is appointed, for the first time, consul, 12 years later IS Julius Caesar who burn the Alexandria´s library (an 47 BC).

We have to understand that 035 is not someone good, but not someone entirely bad, it is a chaotic entity, who finds the humanity like "the best source of entertainment", understanding this, we can deduce that, 035 was created for entertainment and he finds entertainment in human suffering and pleasure. This would explain how someone like him would end up being the jester of who would be the king of Alagadda In Alagadda First of all we must know that both Alagadda and the first Alagaddians belonged to Earth, as well as that, during the attack against the King, 035 was destroyed only to be reborn as the black Lord, unlike the other Lords, 035 didn't was aristocrat, but an entity connected with the ancient gods, the same reason why he was the king's favorite. (http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/and-so-the-crows-laughed) During his stay in Alagadda 035 discovers that "there may be a possibility of freeing the king from his chains" knowing that, in this way he could bring chaos back to Earth, this is when the ambassador and the other Lords decide that is time to get rid of him, because for them it wouldn't be convenient if the king is freed. 035 is returned to Earth, now with the curse that his hosts will not last long before they decompose, this is where he meets 049, believing that the doctor is the solution to his problems, he uses it and becomes a real nuisance to the doctor who in the end would end up locking him in a crypt in order to get rid of him too. Being locked in the crypt for just over 200 (or even more) years made him realize that he no longer cares about the king or anything related to Alagadda, going back to the point of the beginning of only causing chaos to anyone who crosses his path. ------------ I tried to make it short to not make it boring aaaa, there it is.... in the end my brother convinced me to share it (and ask me to stop bother him with this xd), in the same way I'm working on one of Alagadda but I don't know if you'd be interested in listening to it thanks for reading it, if you got an opinion I will be glad to listen ;))

[shiny-procrastinates]

(re)Watching Magia Record S1 - part 3

part 2 here

Hello everyone and welcome back to our watch-through of the first season of Magia Record! Last time, we met a trio of Kamihama magical girls, Momoko, Rena and Kaede, and, after Rena and Kaede fighting, Kaede is kidnapped by the “chain monster”, a part of the rumor of the Staircase of Severance. Now, it’s up to Iroha, Momoko and Rena to find and take her back. Will they succeed, or will someone lose their heads? The only way to know is by watching, so let’s get right to it.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story: Magia Record Episode 3

Rather than going back to the plot right away, we are given a flashback of Iroha’s younger sister and two other girls. The brown haired girl has apparently created an eternal motion machine in the form of a toy train, saying something about how adults must be stupid if they never thought of that before, and that toy train proceeds to crash into a pile of books and set fire on them. Good job. 

I don’t want to hear this from a gacha game character. Your original work is even more fragile than this!

The megane girl, Nemu, compares the brown haired girl, Touka’s actions to the burning of the Library of Alexandria (dramatic much?) and the two start fighting, with Ui trying to stop them. They’re just like Momoko’s trio on the previous episode, breaking their friendship up and everything.

Once again, it was Iroha’s dream. You know the erasure really went in on it when even the rug is cut in half.

Iroha’s sister had friends at the hospital, so she could get some new clues if only she could find them.

Floof Momoko.

Before going looking for Kaede, Momoko and co. drop by Kamihama Mirena-za, aka. the Coordinator’s. I tried searching if Milena constellation was actually a thing, but the only thing I could find was that there’s a Galileo satellite named Milena. Huh.

The Coordinator had a client, but she’s done right away. We learn that the Coordinator’s name is Mitama Yakumo, but still have no idea what she actually does.

Besides not having a sense of personal space.

Momoko explains that Iroha’s not there to get adjusted, whatever that means, and asks if Yachiyo is there yet. Who’s this Yachiyo though?

Aaawkward.

To no one’s surprise, I guess, since I already said it, but this girl is Yachiyo. And she absolutely ignores Iroha. Rude.

Yachiyo and Momoko start talking between themselves about Kaede’s case. (and MItama’s fixing Momoko’s hair. Cute). It seems Yachiyo is well aware of the rumor of the Staircase of Severance. She pulls out a notebook, and Momoko notes that she’s knowledgeable about these things.

Momoko asks Yachiyo to lend them her help, and Yachiyo agrees to do it, since Kaede is in danger, but adds that she won’t work with people who will only be a burden, looking at Iroha.

...not that she’s wrong, but still rude.

Well, I mean, that might make sense when you’re so op, but you don’t have to say it outright!

Still, Yachiyo has a point: it’d be too dangerous to bring along a weak magical girl to a fight with an unknown enemy. So Mitama offers a solution: why don’t they just adjust Iroha’s Soul Gem?

Mitama does a very short explanation of what “adjusting a Soul Gem” actually entails, and this one short screen tells us the rest. It’s basically what let Momoko and Rena do that joint attack earlier. I wonder if this was even long enough on the screen for the people who watched this on tv to read it. 

Momoko says that Yachiyo should have no complaints as long as they do that and Yachiyo is like “yeah, whatever”.

...now that I think about it, what is Mitama doing here?

Continue? Iroha hasn’t sacrificed anyone tho.

...oh, I forgot we don’t get to see Iroha getting adjusted.

So, our girls are now at the rumored stairs at Kamihama University Affiliated School. Leaving aside Momoko and Rena, since they are students there, one has to wonder how exactly did Iroha and Yachiyo manage to get up there without being found. This school’s security is lacking!

While the girls run up to the rumored Staircase of Severance (this is so annoying to write) we see some messages on screen of what I assume are Rena’s classmates, and get pushed some ideas of what friends should be like, all while Momoko tries to cheer Rena up.

Okay, that’s a really narrow staircase. Who decided to put this creepy thing here?

Momoko writes her and Yachiyo’s name on the staircase (and we sneakily learn Yachiyo’s surname is Nanami). The two are reenacting the rumor, so now they’ll make up to draw the Chain Witch out. That is, after they give us their transformation scenes!

While Yachiyo’s themes are water and stars(?), and she has gracious movements, Momoko’s literally burning up and kicking things. Their transformations parallel one another, and yet they are completely opposites. I love it! (but Momoko kicking the sword still takes the cake for me).

Now that I think about it, for all that fire theme she has going, Momoko's not that hot-blooded. Don’t judge a book by it’s cover, I guess.

Rena’s transformation focuses on her shapeshifting powers, throwing her through mirrors and with lots of expression changes. It’s not because she’s tsundere, the transformation seems to tell us Rena has lots of faces.

...I also like her DDR routine right at the start, it’s cute.

The theme of Iroha’s transformation is birbs. Rather than telling us something about who she is like the others, I see hers as basically about what she’s doing right now: much like she did by coming to Kamihama, Iroha takes the courage and jumps into the unknown, chasing after a mirage.

I’m always a little bothered with how she falls straight down despite taking impulse when she jumps, but hey, what can you do lol

One of the (many) cool things about this whole sequence is how the bgm is continuous throughout the transformations, only changing a bit to match each of the girls.

That’s not very convincing acting, Momoko. Yachiyo’s is not much better, either. They theorize it only works if they’re really fighting, and Rena says she’ll do it.

Rena starts apologizing, but nothing happens. Iroha says it might be because she’s not saying it from her heart and Rena’s gets upset.

Rena can’t just feel like making up right away, but it’s not like she doesn’t want Kaede to come back. These two seem to have a complicated relationship, but in the end, it’s clear that Rena does like her. Rena starts crying and apologizes for making Kaede be friends with someone like her all this time. Then, the Chain Witch appears.

We get a flashback to Rena flashbacking (confusing, I know) about all the times Kaede apologized to her, while watching an idol show.

Don’t we all?

So, yeah… Rena is a complicated character. (and a Sayuki stan)

Iroha wakes up in Rena’s room for some reason. Clearly-not-Momoko starts a monologue of how no one could ever like Rena.

Rena hates herself, so she wanted to change. She wanted to become someone else, so her wish gave her shapeshifting powers, but didn’t change her, so she still hates herself (considering the implications when this type of wish does work, see Oriko’s Kirika, she might have gotten the better end of the deal.

Kaede calls out to Rena and Iroha and Rena break out of the strange television-exposition-vision-thingy. So the first thing they start doing, naturally, is start bickering again. Great friends! 

Oh look, the weird Kyuubei is back! Like the nice mascot character he is, he’s showing Iroha the way to the main Witch.

Rena and Kaede start to have a heart-to-heart while fighting (the familiars now, not each other).

Familiar: hahaha, that tickles

Rena says their friendship is over once they get out of there, since they were never real friends to begin with, but Kaede doesn’t want that. Kaede says that if Rena’s problem is that she never apologizes, she just did earlier and Rena says that didn’t count, so Kaede replies that then they breaking up doesn’t count either. Nice, Kaede!

Kaede basically says that, yeah, Rena can be terrible, but she likes her that way anyway, so they can continue being friends.

Rena says that Kaede needs to listen to her, she needs to let her apologize too and tells her she’ll do it once they get out.

While they’re doing that, Yachiyo and Momoko climb to the top and knock down the witches’ main body. Momoko then calls for Kaede and Rena to finish it off. Nice VFX there btw.

Rena and Kaede join hands and using both their magic they pinball the witch into the air with Rena's mirrors. Rena launches plant-enchanted copy spears at it and the witch bursts into leaves and dries... Kaede's magic is kind of scary like this.

Oh, how adorable. Aaaand he's gone. 

The witch is defeated and Rena now has to make good on her promise to apologize. But, seems like honestly apologizing is still too much of a hurdle for her so after some struggle she swerves to another thing. Thankfully, Kaede knows Rena well enough and she's fine with this.

Look at them, so precious.

While Momoko and Iroha catch their breath, Yachiyo approaches them and informs them the Witch didn't drop a Grief Seed. In fact, she says that might've not even been a Witch at all. Yachiyo points out it's weird to have a Witch that comes out anywhere whenever the conditions of a rumor are met, in particular since they didn't even feel it's magic beforehand. She warns them that something weird is going on in Kamihama, then leaves in the most dramatic way possible.

Sometime later, our group is back at Satomi Medical Center. Seems Rena has given in and decided to help after all.

Going by the original plan, Rena transformed into a nurse and investigated the hospital. It's pretty cool how her voice is slightly distorted in this little sequence with her undoing her transformation.

No one in the hospital remembered Iroha's sister, but they did remember Touka and Nemu. That means Iroha's memories aren't entirely wrong.

With that, Iroha goes back to Takarazaki for the day, with some new friends and a very small but important step closer to finding her beloved younger sister.

"Sorry for making you my friend."

That's it folks, this was the third episode of Magia Record('s first season)! No one lost their heads... well except that not-witch if we count the bell as it's head, but I think that's just fine for this series, because--

OH WAIT THERE'S MORE

Talking about lost heads, look who's here! I totally forgot this episode had a stinger. My bad.

Kyuubei can't enter Kamihama now for some reason, so he needed someone to investigate the cause for him and contacted Mami as a strong veteran Magical Girl. There are rumors about that someone in Kamihama is gathering all the Witches around to monopolize Grief Seeds, which would explain why the city is infested with them and they being stronger than normal. Mami says she doesn't want trouble with the Magical Girls of another territory, but will investigate whether the current events are due to a Witch or Magical Girl. I like the short cut that shows her from beneath the grating, it's neat. Just have no idea what it's supposed to mean.

!--rant incoming--! (I say, as if this whole post isn't one)

Anyways, like I was saying... writing? Before the stinger disrupted my thoughts, I think it's just fine that Magia Record's ep3 doesn't have any big twists like Madoka. The original had that maybe for the shock factor, yes, but also because it needed it to make clear what kind of story they were actually going for, and that worked great for that show and the time when it came out. But Magia Record is more of a mystery. We don't need it to push the point of magical girl suffering because the original already did that, we need it to give us things to puzzle about, and that it already did with the weird witch of this episode. Could it have made that better? Maybe, but Magia Record also has the problem that it's cast is significantly bigger, so they have to fit those introductions somewhere. So while it introduces Momoko's trio and a bit Yachiyo, it also tries it's best to situate us (and Iroha by extension) as to how Kamihama's magical girl's world is like and what's going on there. It's a lot to juggle and the anime doesn't get the benefit like the game of being able to just put the character's backstory on a separate chapter. I really like character focused things, so I don't mind the anime trying to fit as much as it can in, but I can see how that might turn other people off. That's one of the things that's really a matter of taste I guess.

!--ok, you can come back now--!

One of the visual things I really like in this episode is the effect with the floating kana and kanji on the Labyrinth. I wonder how that was done. It's animated, so I don't think it's part of the background, but then I'm also not sure at which stage of production that'd be put in. It's really neat.

Well, with this, we are done with episode 3 of Magia Record! What will we do next? Who knows! It doesn't seem like Iroha noticed it, but just knowing that Touka and Nemu existed, not even getting their surnames, does not give her any new clues to go with. She barely started and already is at a dead-end, poor girl.

Before jumping off the building, Yachiyo also added another question to our already filled question bucket: what was up with that weird witch? What is this strange thing that is going on in Kamihama? Why are you looking like that at Momoko's team?

As viewers, however, there is only one way of answering all this: by watching. So I'll be looking forward to having you guys join me tomorrow for episode 4! Have a good morning/afternoon/evening!

PS.: The last two episodes had about 30 screenshots, this one has about 40, at this rate by the time I get to episode 13 I'll be taking screenshots of the whole episode...

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 7

Moms, Meltdowns, and Mayhem

Hello and welcome back to Fabian’s worst nightmare, already in progress!

We rejoin the Bad Kids who have linked back up the next day and are on their way to the library of the city Leviathan--The Compass Point Library. On the way there, they see the Crow’s Keep burning but Fabian, assuming it has to do with what happened to him, tells everyone to leave it alone.

Adaine questions why Riz hasn’t had any nightmares (Riz: In a way, my life is a nightmare) and the whole group goes into another round of Shadowcat speculation. Is she protecting Riz from nightmares for some reason? Why can Tracker and Garthy suddenly see her in the picture despite not having seen her irl or had any weird dreams? Is she masquerading as someone else? 

Anyway, they reach the library which is the cool, cobbled together and largely stolen (to Fig’s delight) pirate-y library of Alexandria type place. They meet an old pirate wizard named Rollins with a book of pirate spells that Fig immediately wants to steal and Adaine wants to borrow (or steal, she’s flexible). They all sign up for Compass Point library cards and go up to the observatory to look for Ayda Aguefort. 

In the observatory, they find a huge orange-yellow bird on a perch and this is the part of the recap where I have to inform you that Aguefort had not only banged a phoenix, he somehow managed to procreate with it. Meet Ayda Aguefort, the half-phoenix (shout-out to the anon from last week who called Ayda as Aguefort’s daughter). She’s got wings and arms, bird legs, a plume of red fiery hair, and eyes which are basically just fire.

Fig thinks she’s the creature Aguefort made for her for reasons I cannot begin to fathom. She tries to feed her but Ayda rejects the food, not wishing to be in anyone’s debt. Ayda is kind of intense, abrupt, and anti-social when they meet her. She’s fully is about to fly away instead of helping until Fabian yells that Garthy sent them and Adaine remembers she has the letter from Garthy asking her to help them. After some back and forth, she agrees to give Adaine the spell (which will take 6 hours to learn) for 150 gold. But these are the Bad Kids so, of course, we have several tangents before the plot goes anywhere, during which we learn Ayda is a divination wizard (like Adaine), she asks if her father has talked about her (Fig successfully lies that he has), and Gorgug spouts out some fortune cookie nonsense (“What is a telescope but a spyglass pointed at the stars?”) that convinces Ayda that he could be the greatest wizard of their age (Adaine does a spit take and Fig is loving it).   

Adaine hits the books to learn the sending spell with Sandra-Lynn keeping watch while everyone else splits up suchly:

Fabian wants to go out to check on the Hangman but Kristen absolutely vetoes that. Buddy. System. Ragh agrees to go with him and she lays off. He tries to see what the damage on the Hangman is. Nat 1. As far as Fabian can tell, the Hangman is full dead. Not only that, Fabian is poor people sick which he isn’t used to at all. Ragh isn’t doing much better on the emotional front. He just started making progress with processing his emotions and now his mom might be dead. Saddest Hoot Growl ever (seriously, it’s heartbreaking). Cathilda comes in, loving as ever, with food and kind words and an old lullaby, but that’s not enough to stop Fabian from rolling another Nat 1 and gaining 2 levels of exhaustion (which means disadvantage on ability checks and speed halved). Lou, please burn those dice. 

Kristen and Riz are researching the Nightmare King. They go into a religious studies section of the library and (on a 20+ check from Riz) find texts about a temple to a forgotten god in Sylvere (the forest of the Nightmare King). The god is never named in any of the texts which Kristen finds weird. Riz decides to steal the book and is able to do it, despite Kristen’s “help”. Later, Kristen cross-refs Riz’s info with her world religions book and, on a dirty 20, she finds with frustration that there’s a lot of information but none of it really matches up. The fairies, treants, and especially the unicorns all had mysterious deities but none of them really match with the forgotten god. [Note: Last time we heard about unicorns was in episode one and we learned that the last time people saw the great unicorn was the last time the NK showed up.] At the same time, it seems like there are elements of the god in all five of the cultures in the forest. Adaine checks and there’s nothing magic with the book so it’s just the contents of the book that are weird, not the book itself. Kristen thinks there might be a connection to her weird dream about not being able to draw the face of her god. Adaine wonders if Kristen might have been worshipping this unnamed god by mistake. Gorgug wonders if the god is erasing themselves (a theory backed up late when they talk to Aguefort).  

Fig looks for information on cursed gems and (with a 19) she finds a good amount--no surprise in a pirate library. She finds a book called Breaking the Evil Eye in one of the forbidden sections and learns that it could be possible to planeshift into the gem, dispel magic from the inside and get rid of the trap, before breaking the original curse. She finds all of this out after she steals the book (disguised as Rollins). Planeshift is a level 7 spell though so Adaine has a while to go before she can learn it (she gets her first at level 13). 

Gorgug asks the real Rollins for books about cheering up a friend. He’s brought to a small, dusty section of the library. Gorgug rolls a nat 1 on an insight check and thinks that Rollins must be messing with him. Rollins is confused because he super wasn’t. Adaine takes a break and uses this pointless argument borne from misunderstanding to steal his book. Dirty 20. Rollins instantly skelatizes. She hastily puts the book back. He comes back Wrong and in incredible pain. He begs them to take the book out and Gorgug does. Adaine peaces out to finish studying, leaving Gorgug to deal with her mess. Gorgug decides to keep looking at the friendship books. Even on a 5, he finds a secret door into a HUGE friendship library. Guided by his library card, Gorgug finds a book called Cheer Up Me Hearties. When he gets out, Gilear is being accosted for killing Rollins, but Gorgug is able to get them to stand down. Gorgug Thistlespring, winning pirate hearts and minds. They take the book and Rollins’ bones to get him put back together.   

Adaine finishes up as Ayda comes to check on her. Ayda is about to make another quick exit but Adaine tries again to make friends with Ayda, this time by directly asking and offering to let her hold Boggy. Ayda is immediately obsessed with Boggy (and Adaine’s backpack terrarium AND the backpack she makes for him at Ayda’s suggestion) and extremely impressed with Adaine’s spellwork in manifesting Boggy. It’s a very cute scene and Adaine has made a useful ally. Ayda can’t believe she met the two greatest wizards of the age in one day. Wild. 

Everyone regroups to call Aguefort now that Adaine knows Sending. He sends them back some more powerful magic so he can talk for longer than the 25 word response. Think of it as magic Skype. He very casually tells them that Ragh’s house is a smoking crater and his mom is super dead. He takes far too long to follow up with the information that, a long time ago, he hid Lydia’s real body under the school, made a clone of her, and used the Magic Jar spell to basically hook up her consciousness to the clone body (which held a fake demon shard). The clone body is what got destroyed. Lydia’s real body and consciousness are fine. Way to bury the lede dude! Upon being asked, Arthur says that he used to remember the name of the god of the unicorn but he forgot. Suspicious and troubling. He and Fig also renew discussions on the creature she ordered but never paid for. He says the cheapest option is a pentacorn for 30k gold (which sounds like a unicorn w/ 5 horns and pretty useless but I refuse to get dragged into this insanity, I am just the messenger here).

Aguefort leaves to deal with the situation at home. Meanwhile, Gorgug notices smoke again but he also notices that it’s on the wrong side to be related to what happened to Fabian. After giving Fabian and Ragh oranges to prevent scurvy--a tip from the pirate friendship book--he brings it up to Fabian who thinks it’s probably Captain Wicklaw making a power play and they should probably stay out of it. What? says Adaine. Nah, we should fight him. Yeah, says Fig. You deserve revenge! Fabian just wants to lay low so they can get their C+. Adaine is not here for that C+ and she’s not here for Fabian’s concerning attitude shift. None of the Bad Kids are. However, the cast is very here for absolutely roasting Lou for all of his choices by having their respective characters inadvertently reference every bad thing that happened last episode. When Adaine suggests that Fabian might be cursed, Fabian finally haltingly comes out with the entire story (which Lou has to laugh-cry himself through in one of the best scenes of the episode) and everyone interjects with comments that they (out of character) know will just make Fabian’s storytelling even more uncomfortable. It’s a very wild combination of very emotional (in game) but deeply funny (out of game). Like:

Ally (who knows good and well that Chungledown Bim told Fabian he was gonna shit in his mouth): Did Chungledown Bim help you?

Zac (who also knows good and well that Chungledown Bim told Fabian he was gonna shit in his mouth): Chungledown Bim probably saved you.

Murph (yet another person who knows good and well that ChungledownBim told Fabian he was gonna shit in his mouth) You know what we should do? We should go see Chungledown Bim.        

Amazing. 

Fabian finishes his recounting of the 20 car pile-up that was last episode by repeating his earlier opinion that they shouldn’t go after Captain Wicklaw because it will just end with all of them dead. Kristen tries to slap him back to normal and tells him to lose the Gilear energy. Led by Gorgug and Adaine, the gang tells Fabian that being Bill Secaster’s son isn’t the only worthwhile thing about him (in fact, it’s pretty annoying). He’s worthwhile all on his own. Tracker chimes in and says that she thinks Fabian might have some issues with depression so maybe their well intentioned efforts to get Fabian to buck up weren’t the best way to handle things. Adaine and Riz are skeptical that Fabian is like, capital D, Depressed but Tracker sticks by her read on the situation. The group eventually decides to at least check out what’s going on with the smoke but before they arrive, an interlude:

As they walk to Crow’s Keep, Cathilda walks with Fabian and Cathilda starts dropping information about herself and about how her own children died before Fabian was born and about how she sees him as a son--though she’s tried to keep the proper professional distance. She comforts Fabian on his bad day and then her eyes go full Terminator and she mentally buts Wicklaw on her “People I Need to Murder Today” list (more on this later).

When they arrive at the place where the smoke is coming from, they find that the Ramble (kind of a pirate meetinghouse/Courthouse) has been burned down. Jemina Joy is there and she lets them know that Wicklaw asked what was necessary to become the new pirate king. He was told that all he needed to do was get the crown from the former pirate king (because respect for/fear of Bill was the only thing keeping there from being a new king). He just burned down the Ramble to be a dick. Adaine damn near gets her ass beat by Jemina by arguing politics with her (her point being that she wants to install Jemina as Pirate Queen while Jemina is like, “I just keep this place from sinking. Lay off.”) but Riz, mindful of the fact that this is a time sensitive situation, takes off to Gibbety Square where the pirate king’s crown is (and where Wicklaw is headed).

They make it to Brennan’s latest battle mechanic: The Row and the Ruction.

This is the crazy, pirate bicameral legislative system. The Row is a huge fistfight (no weapons allowed--or really they are allowed but everyone will gang up on you if you use them) at ground level. It’s always in session and has been for 150-ish years. Above that, is the Ruction which is a fight with full weapon and magic usage alone. The idea is that you need enough support on the ground in the Row so you can use them to get up in the Ruction. It’s a king of the hill situation up there and if you can hold your position up there for long enough, you can make laws. Got all that? Good. 

They get there just barely after Wicklaw and his men who haven’t yet entered the Row. Wicklaw starts talking mad trash to Fabian but his friends back him up. They give him back his sword, his eye-patch, and Kristen hits him with a Warding Bond (which means that he gets +1 to AC and saving throws if he stays close to her plus resistance to all damage and, more importantly, she takes all the damage he takes). Fig gives everyone Countercharm. And, to top it off, Cathilda shows up with in an all black, super-badass pirate uniform to say she’s gonna feed him his own freaking brains! Let’s goooooooo!

But, Wicklaw has some new allies as well. Three elves bamf in from Falinel (same people who Kristen felt scrying on them earlier) and they’re there to bring Adaine back, and it doesn’t seem like they’re gonna just ask nicely.   

Detention

Adaine for Unnecessary Theft and (Accidentally) Killing a Man 

Adaine was kind of on one this episode. Not only did she inadvertently kill* a man while stealing from him, Adaine also ghosted at the first sign of trouble, leaving Gorgug and Gilear to catch all the flak for her attempt at pulling a Fig. Bad form, girl!

*She probably didn’t technically kill him but she turned him into a skeleton and he called the pain upon reconstitution worse than death so let’s not quibble about the details. 

Honor Roll

Cathilda for Being a Badass Mom 

Oh man, oh man, oh man. 

I’ve low-key been waiting for Cathilda to go full pirate since we learned that was an option and especially since Fabian got attacked because it was a pretty safe bet that was going to be her berserk button and boy did she deliver.

When did she have the time for a costume change? Is she that stealthy? Did she magic it on? Or did she just manifest the outfit on the power of her rage alone?

The scene where she says Wicklaw is gonna pay? Chills. Not only pledging to eat your enemy’s brains but also saying you’re going to feed him his own brains and describing exactly how you’ll serve it? So raw. 

But I also have to shout out the non-murderous mom stuff she did this ep. The little talk she gave Fabian about no one being defined by their worst day was very sweet and good advice out of game too. 

But honorable mention to Gorgug for being an absolute sweetheart all episode. Zac’s improv about pirates giving their friends oranges to prevent scurvy bodied me.  

Random Thoughts

Some very useful posts from @jamiebluewind: Character Descriptions, Location Descriptions, Transcripts of Cathilda’s speeches from this ep. 

During the initial discussion with Collins, we learn that the transmutation exchange rate is 50 Parrots=10 Bananas=1 Gold. How are bananas more complex than parrots?

Adaine: May we steal books?

Her later actions aside, I think it’s funny that Adaine’s first move is basically always to sweetly ask for what she wants and Fig’s first move is, “Gotta steal that book!” Adaine is like the most polite person in the group but also ready to fight 100% of the time. The role reversal in the Jemina scene where Fig was the one who asked an on point question and Adaine was the one who made it almost spiral into an actual fight was great.

I was just saying this re: Harry Potter in a different context but clearly marked but not blocked off forbidden sections of libraries are more a dare than a deterrent. 

Fig as a horned parrot (done by Rollins for trying to steal his book) is adorable. Please somebody draw that.

I love that when they see the bird that turns out to be Ayda and Murph is like, “I don’t think that’s a bird,” Zac is like, “Yeah, Gorgug doesn’t know that.” Zac (like Travis as Grog in CritRole) has a real talent for playing dumb while actually being really smart.

“My principal scammed me?”

Brennan truly did not have to follow through on Aguefort saying he slept with a bird. He really, really did not have to but he was like, “Nope! I said it so it’s happening! This is happening!” I really wish you guys could have seen my face as I realized in real time that the madman was actually doing that. 

Adaine to Fig who thinks Ayda is her creature: This is a full person.

“I like school.”/“You would.”

Lol at Fig trying to draw parallels between Ayda’s prickliness and her own behavior and getting absolutely shut down. “I think people think you’re really tender.” The running thing of Fig’s perception of herself as this standoffish loner being constantly reality checked by literally everyone she knows being like, “You tell us you love us literally every day,” is one of my favorite group dynamics. It’s even funnier because, besides probably Adaine and Fabian, the rest of the Bad Kids probably knew Fig (or at least had seen her around) before she started going through her emo phase. So they totally remember her in 8th grade wearing preppy clothes and carrying a unicorn backpack and listening to Fantasy Taylor Swift and all that.   

All ep they were calling Kalina a cat and I was thinking, “I feel like—in game—that’s gotta be offensive.” And then Aguefort straight said it. Wild for it to come from him since he’s the craziest person ever but I’m glad it came up.

“You seem simple to me.”/“Thank God.”

Aww at Ayda asking if Aguefort ever talks about her. Brennan, you gotta stop putting little emotional traps into otherwise funny scenes. I can only handle so much!

The gang did some experimentation with the photo in this ep with these results: Ayda and Aguefort both couldn’t see Kalina in the picture. They also took a picture of the picture but that picture had the same properties as the original picture. Weeping Angel rules I guess. 

There’s speculation in this episode about why Riz isn’t having nightmares. I have another question kinda on that topic. In episode 2/3, we see the lie/mirror/Baron thing that happened with Riz. And that was for sure super nightmarish. But it doesn’t match what happened to Adaine and Fabian. Both of them seem to have had more ephemeral experiences that quickly vanished. And they weren’t borne from lies so much as fears. Riz’s monster came from a direct lie and it didn’t seem to be a nightmare. It came out of the mirror and attacked not only him but his friends later. No one saw Fabian or Adaine’s nightmares besides them (although, that could just be because they got away). And no other lie-monsters have showed up as far as we know. I’m just wondering if there’s maybe something else going on or if it was a different NK follower who did that or just a different power of the same dude. Just something I wanted to note because it’s been bugging me a little and no one’s brought it up yet. 

Cool quirk of the sending spell Adaine learned: Because it was modified by pirates, curse words don’t count towards the 25 word limit. What I immediately thought (and what Aguefort actually ended up doing more or less) was that you could easily send very long messages with, say, Morse code. Just designate one curse as a dot, one as a dash, and one as a space, and you’re good to go. It’d be slow, but totally workable. 

Also, after watching Laura as Jester absolutely flying by the seat of her pants with every sending spell, it was wild to see the group take the time to carefully craft the perfect message. 

I said two recaps ago that I wouldn’t be surprised if Gorgug multiclassed into a casting class soon and boy do I hope this episode means he’s gonna do it for real. Adaine’s total disbelief at Ayda’s interest in Gorgug’s wizarding potential was sending me.

Oh also. Ayda has forbidden Gorgug from reading any wizarding books so he doesn’t lose is totally uncomplicated mind. I guess he’s supposed to learn everything the savant way? Imagine Adaine diligently studying her wizard books, trying to master some complicated spell and Gorgug is like, “I woke up and I guess I can use Mage Hand now? Neat.” Absolutely maddening. 

Besides Cathilda, Gorgug was the MVP in this episode. Dude has a knack for making friends that I think will eventually pay dividends. 

Also, speaking of, everything Brennan said during the secret shelf section was so good as to sound planned, however, how could you predict that that was a thing a player was going to ask to find? Brennan is just always 7 seconds of prep time away from giving an elaborate and super specifically themed speech about friendship I guess.  

Big ups to Kristen for not letting Fabian go off by himself again. Like, for the sake of the party of course but also the, “We almost lost you,” was sweet. She also helped buff him going into the coming fight with Warding Bond that means she takes all the damage he takes. I am SO glad they brought another healer with them because that’s such a risky move. Kristen is a LOT but she’s also very ride or die and all heart. I really love that the last time she used this spell it was on Gilear for a joke and now it’s getting used seriously. It’s a perfect establish existence of power to audience/bring back at plot relevant time setup. Improv storytelling is so inexplicably good. 

Technically, to cast Warding Bond, you’re supposed to have matching rings with the person you’re casting it on so imagine Kristen blinged out with a ring for each party member and each of them having a corresponding one in case she needs to cast it on them.  

Little bit concerned that Tracker still doesn’t know about Sandra-Lynn/Garthy. The longer it takes for her to find out, the higher the chance it blows up and becomes a Thing.

Fig: *Meandering philosophical question about why Ayda watches the stars*/Ayda: I study it so I can know where this big city is floating.

RIP to the Hangman. I don’t think he’s gone for good but it seems like he is for now. On my first watch, I thought that, on a 1, Fabian just fully thinks that the Hangman is gone but, the second time it seemed more like he’s just dead. Now, I’m not Brennan, but if I was in this situation, you know what I would do? I would have someone save the Hangman’s soul (or whatever he has instead of a soul) and store it in the Hangvan temporarily. Imagine how much he’d hate that. It’s full of potential for “roommate” shenanigans. 

Is there anything stopping them from just, ramming the Row with the Hangvan? Like, I know it’ll get them ganged up on, but will they be able to do much against a full van?

Also, if/when they hold the Ruction, I wonder what law they’re going to try and make. They didn’t really go in with a plan (understandable under the time pressure) so they’re really gonna have to improvise something on the fly. 

Also, I’m assuming Fabian stabbed the Hangman while he was asleep? I don’t think we were ever shown that scene, but Fabian must have been under some kind of compulsion since he woke up in the river (and the same happened to Ragh). 

Aguefort casually mentions that he has many children and this episode proves that Brennan can and will back up every single crazy thing that comes out of his mouth, so I’m excited to see if there is a single Aguefort out there that isn’t crazy.

Oh, also, the acknowledgement that occasionally that phoenix is a child is appreciated because that was def a question I was going to ask. Squicky to say the least but I guess that’s how phoenixes work so what are you gonna do?

Ally needing to roll a 10, rolling, being happy, checking Kristen’s modifier, and realizing it’s a negative 3 for a total of 9 is peak D&D.

Fig as Rollins: Look at how fast I can run!

I love Fig thinking Adaine could plausibly have 7 level spells. She’s like, idk bro. She’s the eleven oracle. She cares about school. She could know this too. Who knows? Certainly not Fig who thought she could buy wizard spells to use as a bard.

“Please speak more enthusiastically on my behalf.”

“It’s my brain guys.”

Fig mind controls Gilear into believing in himself and he fails his save. I wonder if this is could be valid therapy technique in this world. 

Aguefort mentions that a Wish spell can destroy a Magic Jar just fyi. That makes 3 pretty high level spells mentioned in this ep. Magic Jar is 6th level. Planeshift is 7th level. And Wish, basically the strongest spell in the game, is 9th level. We’re starting to deal with some serious magical mojo.

The whole thing with people in pictures that not everyone can see and memories that you know you once had but don’t anymore and information that should exist but doesn’t is hitting a very specific storytelling sweet spot for me. 

This is a little meta-gamey to be thinking about but I’m kinda wondering, why sideline Gorthalax? Obviously, it’s a good plot hook for Fig and that might be all it is. But I’m lowkey wondering is there something Gorthalax knows or can do that would solve the plot in 30 seconds if he was around? Like, was he roommates with the Nightmare King in hell or something?

Kristen finds it weird that the god’s name isn’t written anywhere but I’m sure that’s gotta be fairly common. Or at least not unheard of. Like, I know in Judaism you’re not supposed to do that. Anyway, watch the great unicorn be the Nightmare King just for the Nightmare/Night Mare pun.

Adaine being on brand no matter the situation: Everybody shut up I have to do my homework!

The, “Do you want a friend?”/“Desperately.” interaction killed me. 

“I don’t have any wizard friends.”/“I’m a wizard.”/(beat)/“I don’t have any wizard friends.”

Arthur cloned a woman, forgot to tell her, and then straight forgot. So business as usual from him. 

Fabian’s, “Nooooooo,” with the rising intonation every time someone made an assumption during his story and he had to correct him was amazing. Also, “He told me he was going to shit in my mouuuuwth.”

Ragh, Fig, and Adaine all crying about their parental issues at the same time. This has been, like, the longest week ever. I wonder if the 7 Maidens are unpacking this much trauma on their quest.

“Absolutely timbered.”

Lol at Brennan dropping the cool pirate sending spell “curses don’t count” detail and then being told from off camera that he needs to keep it PG-13. But then Cathilda needed to go beast mode so, like, what can you do?

Another cool worldbuilding detail is pirate clerics just keep shrines to every deity they’ve come into contact with to hedge their bets like Beni from The Mummy.

I know Lydia was attacked on orders from Kalina but I wonder if they knew about/had plans for the demon shard too. 

When Emily said she disguised herself as Rollins, I fully thought she was going to walk out the door the real Rollins was guarding and not go out the back door like she did. The idea of a back door didn’t even occur to me. I just thought we were in for some classic Axford insanity. 

Riz: You’ve gotta get better at talking to kids.

Riz: This is real Gilear energy.

Kristen: We brought one Gilear. We don’t wanna make that mistake twice.

Everything that happened with Fabian was really funny because there’s nothing I love more in D&D than players having a good time dunking on each other but, in game, Fabian is really going through it. Fabian low key has mom friend energy so to almost die and then for all of his friends to jump into the exact fight that almost killed him (including taunting the dude! Adaine!) against his advice must be giving him a level of anxiety and dread that I don’t even have the words to describe. Like, now is not the time for him to digging into that because things are life or death. Gotta save your life before you can fix it. But he def needs to at some point. Too bad Jawbone’s not around for a quick mid-battle therapy sesh like he had with Adaine during prom.   

Tracker suggested that Fabian might be depressed. I’m not an expert on depression. He could be depressed and, in any case, he definitely needs to see a therapist for a Lot of reasons. But having a breakdown because you saw 14 people die, almost died yourself, and were told that a man wanted to shit in your mouth less than 24 hours ago seems less like a sign of depression and more like the only rational human reaction.

Adaine calls the above, “a vaguely mediocre day”. Michael Scott Voice: Adaine you ignorant slut.

Also Adaine: You got that bike because you won it fair and square because we killed a lot of people.

This is the second time Adaine has said that Fabian’s lineage is actually the most annoying thing about him and these are the kind of tiny continuity details I live for.

Semi-relatedly, Fabian’s relationship with his parents v. Adaine’s relationship with hers is endlessly fascinating to me. Because they have such similar backgrounds but coming from, like, opposite directions of the same spectrum, you know? Can’t wait for those sweet, sweet parallels as we jump into her trauma! (What is D&D but group therapy interspaced with murder?)  

Speaking of Adaine’s trauma, it looks like we’ll be getting to it very soon as those FBI Falinel operatives have shown up to force her (and the plot) back to Falinel. This is Concerning to me for two reasons. First off, remember the Aelwyn fight from season 1? Remember how annoying that was? Now imagine that times three and also 2 separate pirate brawls are happening. That sounds like a Bad Time for our kids. They’ve leveled up some and they’ve been known to make some very clutch battle decisions, but this is gonna be tough any way you slice it. This is like two entirely separate encounters at the same time. A small good point: I looked up the language for teleportation and it can only be used to transport a willing creature. So they can’t just bum rush her and poof out. But they could give her an ultimatum to make her agree. The second reason this Concerns me is that Adaine high key doesn’t want to work with/for Falinel and they know this. The fact that they’ve resorted to kidnapping (fun international law fact: when a government kidnaps someone, it’s called rendition) tells me that they’re done playing nice which opens up two options to them they might not have otherwise used. They could coerce Adaine’s consent to be their oracle by threatening her life/her friends’ lives. Or, more troubling, they could just kill her. I mean, she became the elven oracle when the old one died, right? So, if she died, someone else would get the job. Probably someone less troublesome to deal with. I doubt they’re gonna go straight for that because they seem to want her alive, at least for now. But it is a concern. 

Of course, we’re assuming that what’s happening on the face of this is the whole story, but that’s not necessarily true. Iirc, all we heard was that they found the oracle and they were gonna bring her back to Falinel. For all we know, the elves could be working for Adaine’s mom. Of Adaine’s mom could be working with Falinel. Or she could be working with Falinel just as a way to get to her daughter. We really don’t know. The last person on this show that got kidnapped was Fabian and that was a friendly kidnapping. Anything is possible. 

Something that struck me as a possibility: This fight seems like it’s gonna suck. There is a world where the ideal move for Adaine is to pull an Evy (from the Mummy--two Mummy refs in one recap, did not plan that, I just love the Mummy) and agree to go with the Falinel elves if they help them instead (or at least stop helping Wicklaw) with the faith that her friends will come rescue her. I doubt they actually care much about what happens in the government of this pirate junk city. I’m curious about how they ended up together anyway. I’m guessing the elves clued into what was going on while scrying on the group and decided an alliance might be useful.

Brennan about both Ally’s Applebees Reference and Fig using a Leviathan phonebook: That is nothing.

Shoutout to Fruzzinoid in the chat who said Ally’s alignment is chaotic-chaotic. Accurate.

I love the laughing-squawk that Brennan does for Ayda as much as I hate the fact that he made the Choice to spell it that way.

Truly, the entire scene where Lou is recapping the fight from last episode and he’s laughing uncontrollably but Fabian is clearly crying and he’s expressing both of those things simultaneously is beautiful. 

A Fabian line that really hit but that I haven’t mentioned yet: “I probably have one follower running around. Never mind he’s my father’s just like everything else I have.” Ow. Such a deep cut but so off the cuff from Lou. As a writer, this show makes me so mad because that’s such a good line of dialogue that Lou just dropped out of his mouth like it was nothing. How dare he? 

Another good line I didn’t mention before, this tie from Riz: “We all draw strength from each other. You went in without your crew. What’s a pirate without his crew?” Ugh, Murph. Who gave you the right?

This episode has made me extremely curious about what Cathilda thinks about Hilariel. Because she sees herself as Fabian’s mom--which she essentially has been in a lot of the ways that count since Hilariel has been mentally out to lunch for the past however many years. To be clear, I do think Hilariel loves Fabian. She just hasn’t really been present even though she’s been literally present. The way Cathilda phrased some of the things she said and the way she seems to talk about Fabian’s dad so much more than his mom makes me wonder if she doesn’t...resent isn’t the right word exactly. Maybe, disapprove? It makes me wonder if she doesn’t disapprove of Hilariel’s parenting choices more than she lets on. 

Kristen’s, “Do you listen to music?” in the middle of actually useful questions for Ayda. 

Rich people sicknesses include having eaten too much caviar or smoked a cigar for too long in case you’re wondering.

“You want an orange, pal?”

On a practical note, we have two more episodes to go until the show breaks for the year so prepare yourselves from now people!

Riz, Adaine, and Gorgug each rolled one Nat 20 apiece. Fig, Gorgug, and Adaine each rolled a Nat 1 (but Adaine presumably cancelled out hers rolling with advantage because of Boggy). Fabian, who is still living his worst life, rolled three Nat 1s. Tragic.  

[rosalind-of-arden]

Sword and Pen Reread, chapter 7

Santi chapter!!!

Ephemera: More evidence of early Obscurists. Heron worked with “Pharaoh’s priests and magicians” on the Poseidon automaton.

Santi is overwhelmed with his new responsibilities, but he’s engaging in some very sensible self-care by taking a coffee break and getting some alone time. He seems to like sitting alone at the top of the Serapeum, having a view of everything going on and space to think.

This practice of taking a break by himself also fits in with Santi’s pattern of walking away when he gets mad at Wolfe. Being alone helps Santi stay calm.

Also, between this and hanging out on the roof of the Spanish embassy, I think we can definitely say Santi likes high places, at the very least for purposes of surveying battlefields, but quite possibly in general.

The one thing that would make Santi’s break better? Come on, we all know what. “He missed Wolfe’s bright, sharp presence.” But he knows obsessing over Wolfe would be a distraction, so he just gives himself a moment to send good wishes Wolfe’s way. Compare this to how tense he was when separated from Wolfe in Smoke and Iron; Wolfe isn’t really any safer now, but knowing Wolfe is free and they both have some control over the situation makes a big difference.

Here’s another indication of what normal looks like for Wolfe and Santi. They split up and work separately, and they trust each other to stay safe and get things done. The obsessive worry over Wolfe’s safety in earlier books was a reaction to the threat posed by the Artifex/Archivist and a response to trauma. Two factors moving Santi back to normal here. First, Wolfe’s lecture in Smoke and Iron. Second, the balance of power has changed. They aren’t trapped in the corrupt Library system anymore, they’re leading the new Library. That makes it easier for Santi to keep the paranoia in check.

I am amused that while Santi and Khalila are both attracted to men, only Khalila spent time observing the hotness of the Poseidon automaton. Santi is too busy being impressed by its size and destructive capabilities.

Here’s Santi’s strategic mind at work. As soon as he’d done going “holy fuck that thing’s huge”, he’s thinking through the enemy’s attack options and hauling ass to get defense strategies in place.

They have an Obscurist on duty in the strategy room. Is this normal, like the ones in the Translation chambers? Or something new?

Obscurist in the strategy room is young and female. No name given. I’m headcanoning that it’s Sybilla, rescued from solitary confinement/suicide watch/whatever by Morgan when she and Eskander took over the Iron Tower, and nobody can stop me.

Botha gets Santi’s company. Nice little friendship moment there, both of them respecting each other’s leadership abilities. Must remember Botha when developing Santi’s various friendships.

Nofret Alamasi, now ranked Senior Captain, is Santi’s new assistant. Roughly a month ago, she was newly assigned to the Iron Tower and making threats to keep Morgan in line. Interesting character to explore more. Some things to consider: How well do she and Santi know each other? How loyal was she to the ex-Archivist? Did she get this position because of rank, particular skills that would be useful, or some other factor? Does Santi have her there because he trusts her? Or because he doesn’t trust her and wants her where he can see her?

Some rivalries to play with in fics: Spain vs Portugal, England vs Wales, Turkey vs India.

What is Dario doing now, anyway? Santi doesn’t expect him to be happy about being summoned. Everyone else has some kind of assigned duty to work on, but with the ambassadors gone, Dario has no work to do.

Santi does not want to tell Alamasi about the Greek fire facility problem.

Obscurists are playing a key role in defense. They seem to be operating systems like the Serapeum’s shutters along with the automata.

Santi hasn’t lost his sense of humor: “Alamasi, if I’m burned alive, then all this becomes your problem.”

Impact of Philadelphia: Santi knows he would hesitate to use Greek fire against a city.

Santi is also reluctant to use his other weapons of mass destruction. He orders a warning shot with the Ray of Apollo first, then attempts negotiation.

Alexandria has very good plans for dealing with firebombing.

Santi, recognizing the Library’s stagnation: “We rely on past accomplishments far too much. Must do something about that.”

Tense Santi, not handling waiting well: Alamasi, do we have any messages yet? How about now? Check with Eskander. Anything from Wolfe? (Is that a touch of trauma-fueled paranoia raising its head? Probably.)

On the subject of Dario, “Santi quite liked the arrogant little ass.” Sin fuel right here. Also, how much does Dario have in common with young Wolfe? Does Santi have a type? I think so. He even thinks about Wolfe right after thinking about how fond he is of Dario.

Dario’s idea of “plain” clothes: he’s only wearing red velvet, no jewels or lace. He has a pretty engraved dagger. Because of fucking course he does.

This whole conversation with Dario is very strategic. I think @eli-wray had a good point that Santi was trying to give Dario a chance to be open and upfront, then turned up the pressure when Dario pushed back with evasion. Santi knows what he has to do to draw Dario out, and he doesn’t hesitate to keep up the pressure until he has confirmation of Dario’s loyalty and Dario’s agreement to go along with the plan.

More strategy: getting agreement from Dario before actually saying what the plan is. There’s quite a bit going into making Dario feel important, even powerful here. He’s brought in under armed escort. His loyalty is questioned. All of that says “you are a threat.” Then Santi turns it around and says he needs Dario’s help. New message: “you are dangerous and we need you on our side.” That’s actually quite the ego boost for Dario, and that prompts Dario to agree to helping. Because of course Dario wants to be needed.

“I need something that comes to you as naturally as breathing. [...] Betrayal.” A couple things going on here. First, is this at least a little emotionally motivated, because it really hasn’t been all that long since Dario betrayed the pack twice in a row? Yes, I think so. Santi, as we know, can hold a grudge. But it’s also strategic. He just challenged Dario to not betray him. By betraying Spain, yes, but Dario just said his real loyalty is to the Library. Betraying Santi would prove that Dario is exactly what Santi accused him of being, so there’s extra motivation there for Dario to stay on Santi’s side. (Note that this is Santi’s perspective - as we’ll see later, Dario interprets this a bit differently.)

In short, we’re seeing the people skills that got Santi so many allies here. He knows how to read people, figure out what makes them tick, and use that to get people on his side. Good leadership or manipulation? Both? Read that as you will.

One more point: how is Santi so good at getting past a person’s defenses to find out what they’re really thinking? 20+ years with Wolfe. There really isn’t that much difference between Wolfe’s prickly defenses and Dario’s sparkly defenses, when you think about it.

Santi is not a tea person. Guessing this is matcha they’re drinking since it’s pale green.

Santi is very anxious about his plan with Dario. He’s worried about Murasaki’s reaction and Khalila’s for very different reasons. He’s worried about Dario. I suspect he very much does not want Murasaki to fire him and order an attack on the facility if she finds out the Spanish have seized it before Santi’s forces take it back.

Murasaki reminds Santi of Wolfe. Dario reminds Santi of Wolfe (even if he’s not admitting that to himself). Santi is not good at avoiding thinking about Wolfe.

Awkward moment for Santi as he realizes just how far he’s gotten from the Library party line on things like smuggling and printing.

“He’d cheerfully knock Callum Brightwell flat any day of the week.” Sorry, Santi. Wolfe beats you to it.

Santi also has Troll working as his assistant. He assigns his own company to the Lighthouse to guard the Ray of Apollo. He likes having people he trusts in key positions - possibly evidence he does trust Alamasi.

I’m taking this comment from Santi that he’s known about the journals for a long time as a lie intended to make him look like he knew more than he did - the moment of surprise with Wolfe in Ink and Bone seemed too genuine.

Getting huge “the kid would be embarrassed to see the parents having a romantic moment” vibes from Santi opting not to have Troll tell Wolfe to be careful.

Also, though, here’s the outcome of that conversation in Smoke and Iron. Wolfe asked Santi to back off on the protectiveness. And Santi is doing just that. He’s worried, but he respects Wolfe’s choices.

Staunch Catholic Santi prays to Isis for his male pagan partner’s safety. Damn do I ever love the way this alternate world works.

[dialux]

they say we’re out of control and some say we’re sinners

First Good Omens fic in... fifteen years? I’m a bit late to the party XDD

Title comes from "Fire on fire," by Sam Smith. Poem from the beginning can be found here. Warnings for mentions of discorporation, suicidal tendencies, depression, murder, etc. Funnily enough, I think this might be one of very few fics I've written without familial angst! 

...

Chapter One: outstretched dirty hands just like a child

a comfort- we are not the beginning, or the end; and what we are building has always been built

...

“I AM HAVING A MOMENT HERE,” snarls Crowley, and Aziraphale sees the wildness in his golden snake-eyes, and his heart- his incorporeal, terrified, all-too-human heart- twangs.

Oh, he thinks.

...

He is fairly young for an angel. Eden is his first proper assignment; he’d formed a few things before that, most notably a frog in South America with clear skin and visible kidneys [1]. His Head Office had been impressed enough with that to give him a post on earth.

When he first meets Crawly, he feels... something.

He’s the first non-human person he sees after Gabriel gives him the sword, and Crawly’s funny, in a biting manner that makes Aziraphale want to say a little too much. He’s smart, too, and questioning, and though Aziraphale leaves the conversation uncomfortable and bitter along his tongue, he feels conversely more comfortable in his own skin. Aziraphale doesn’t need to be anything other than what he is, because he’s an angel and Crawly’s a demon and those lines are inextricable, no matter what else changes in the universe.

He spreads his wing over Crawly’s head, and names it kindness.

(There is a reason, Aziraphale thinks later- almost too late- that honesty is not one of the seven heavenly virtues.)

...

Honesty has never been one of his strengths.

Perhaps that’s where Aziraphale and Crawly fit: the lies he tells his Head Office, the lies Crawly tells his, and all the lies both of them tell themselves.

...

So many times after that, Aziraphale meets him. Once he’s finished with the debacle of Noah and his Ark, he actually stopped measuring time in human-years and start measuring it in time-since-meeting-Crawly. It’s easier, in it’s own way, because it’s with him that Aziraphale’s world brightens, hones, sharp-edged and shining like sunlight off a sword of Damascus steel [2]. He’d drift along for the years between and live, really live, for those moments when Crawly drifts up to him with his sweet, venomous humor and sliding, slitted eyes.

Aziraphale doesn’t seek him out.

That’s important to state: Aziraphale doesn’t seek him out.

It’s not in his job description. But what is in his job description is the need to fend off evil, and so he follows the whispers of darkness and malice and a hundred other tiny, measured steps towards the Other Side until he finds Crawly. He stops him, sometimes, and finds himself stopped at others, and slowly he learns to let the sour taste of defeat drift away under the taste of wine drunk with another immortal being by his side.

...

Time passes. Six thousand years is a long time.

Aziraphale fights him. He does, he does, but Crawly is wily and funny and more often than not he finds himself throwing words at him instead of steel, and even more dangerously, giving him a hand up when the battle is done and finished.

...

Alexandria burns, and he- oh, how Aziraphale blazes as well.

He may have learned to appreciate the taste of defeat, but this? There is nothing in this loss but loss, empty dust and smoke and the vacuum of space. His wings unfurl, diamond white, and his wrath lifts him to the skies, and though he has no sword the flash of War’s red hair flickers around the corners of his vision. He flies, hunting after the scent of evil and loam [3] that is Crawly. He flies, so furious that he cannot breathe for his rage.

He’s an angel, after all. He need not breathe.

And- there. There. Damp earth and smoke and hellfire. He throws himself forwards and land, and flame sings out around him. Crawly doesn’t move from his position on the ground- he’s a dark shadow, head tilted up to meet Azirphale’s gaze, unflinching.

“Demon,” he hisses.

“Aziraphale,” he says evenly, and oh, that’s bloody unfair. The way he looks, eyes like black coals, face sharpened to a knife’s edge. “War.”

War slides out from behind his back, red hair fanning out. “Crawly,” she murmurs, tongue sliding around the syllables like a caress. “It has been a long time.”

“Enjoying Rome?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Enough,” says Aziraphale, so low it makes the earth shudder. He forces himself to calm enough that he can speak without destroying the world. “You burned the library.”

“I did not.”

“You lie,” he snarls.

Crawly lifts an eyebrow. “Did I pour pitch over the stone and strike the tinder? No, Aziraphale, I did not.”

“You made Caesar do it!”

“The fire was supposed to stay in the upper half of the city,” he says evenly. “It spread when there were riots.”

His fingers curl inwards, turn into claws. “All those lives,” says Aziraphale, a scream caught in his chest. “How dare you?”

“Are you deaf or stupid?” asks Crawly, starting to sound annoyed. “What did I literally just say? I’m not responsible for it!”

“Do you know how many books were in that library?”

Something flashes across Crawly’s face, some hard, flinty look. “And now we come to it,” he says, voice gone dark. He steps towards Aziraphale- just one step.

(Later, decades later, Aziraphale reflects on the courage it must have taken him to do that; he’s an angel in full form, golden-winged and dripping molten light onto the sand, and Crowley’s still in his human skin. Discorporation- apart from all the paperwork- is truly painful. But right then all Aziraphale knows is anger and grief and all the grief feeding the anger into something too large to be contained by his skin.)

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t care about the people, angel,” he says coldly. “You care about the books that burned. You tell me which one’s worse- setting the fire that burned the Library, or not caring about the people who died along the way for it?”

Electricity flips through Aziraphale’s veins, fueled by the outrage. “So you admit it,” he says.

“No,” says Crawly deliberately slowly. “I just want you to know how fucking stupid you’re being.”

War cackles aloud.

The fragments of Aziraphale’s patience snap.

He lunges forwards, glittering and golden, and Crawly’s wings snap out, blacker and larger than his. Sand whirls up around Aziraphale, buffets him backward. It stops him for just long enough that Crawly can tense his knees, and then Aziraphale’s twisting and fighting and rolling in both sand and air, desperate for some upper hand. He is terrified. He is furious. He is-

Crawly’s hands catch on his wings and yank.

Everything goes still.

It isn’t pain. Just the threat of it. The promise.

Aziraphale gasps, but even that stutters in his chest because too much movement and the feathers will be gone, and while he can survive discorporation he isn’t sure at all about the wings. So he just tips his head back and looks at Crawly, whose red hair shines out, bright and cutting. His face is narrow and cold and Aziraphale can see the sun behind him, throwing all of him into shadow, silhouetting him like an angel’s halo.

“Finish it,” whispers War. “Finish it, demon.”

Aziraphale thinks- he will. He looks at Crawly, and he’s certain that he will. He must, surely he must. His eyes don’t move, and he looks terrifying, golden and shadowed, beautiful and horrifying. Aziraphale chokes. He thinks- wildly- of begging, but there are no words inside of him. Only silence, vast and unending, and anger being banked into an ocean too cold to maintain its flames.

He looks up, into Crawly’s eyes. He can feel the strain in his wings. He does not dare to move. His face is all he can see: the narrow slide of his jaw, the curl of one lock of hair. The golden, gleaming slant of his eyes. And then something ripples across his face- not kindness, not softness, and yet an emotion wholly encompassing both.

The moment passes.

Crawly lets go, fingers lifting one by one, and backs away swiftly. He massages one hand with the other, as if wondering at the ache, even as Aziraphale stumbles to his feet. He sees the way Crawly cuts his gaze towards War.

“Wrath’s not really my speed,” he drawls, voice calmer than it has any right to be. “Pride, gluttony- sloth! Sloth’s done some real wonders for humanity, and by wonders I mean horrors. I’m sure you understand.”

Mercy, thinks Aziraphale, wondering. From a demon’s hands.

War’s eyes are narrowed. She looks furious- but then, when doesn’t she? Though Aziraphale supposes that he ought to find her twitching fingers slightly worrisome.

Crawly keeps nattering on. “I’ll sleep one of these centuries. You know, that might be the best vacation ever. Quietly hide out in a cave... let the darkness take me for a good hundred years... not have to deal with meddling angels or annoying horsepeople...”

“I’m not a horseperson,” snarls War, who’s technically just that. “And you could have started Armageddon here, you know that? Right here. Right now.”

“What, without the Antichrist?” Crawly asks incredulously. “D’you know how many forms I’d have to fill for even thinking about it?” His voice slips into a slightly higher register. “Yes, Your Disgrace, I don’t think we need your son to cause the end of the world- no, all it takes is, you know, ripping out an angel’s wings. We can start the end of the world right away, if you’d be okay with not playing a leading role!” He inhales, and seems to lengthen with that breath a good foot. Maybe two. “Got to say, War, you need to work on your tempting. Not too persuasive there.”

“Crawly,” Aziraphale scrapes out, and see his whole body not-flinch, instead doing a peculiar wiggle that leaves his shoulders almost above his ears. Aziraphale walks forwards, feet dragging against the sand, and forces himself not to notice the way he goes so still Aziraphale could likely push him over with a finger. Slowly, wincing through the ache, he lifts a hand and places it on his shoulder. “Let her go.”

He spins to look, jumpy and angry, like a piece of metal that’s sparking on one end with heat. “I’m not the one keeping her here,” he says sharply.

“Oh,” says Aziraphale.

“Yes, oh,” says Crawly, mockingly high.

Aziraphale brought her here. He is keeping her here, with the bloodlust that sings beneath his skin and deep into his muscle. War circles both of them still- the promise of it lessened but still present. He closes his eyes and breathes.

Smoke and char. Dust. Crawly, as always, like flame and the scorched earth that follows. The blood and screams of War. He opens his eyes and there is little peace in Aziraphale’s heart, but the fury has abated. He hasn’t forgiven anyone of anything; he is too tired, too marveling, to do that. Then he opens his eyes and War is gone, as if she had never been there.

“Good riddance,” says Crawly, lips twisting in distaste. “Never did like her much. Finish it, demon. As if that’s all I am.”

“Indeed,” says Aziraphale faintly. “You’re... far more interesting than that.”

“I’d bloody well hope so.” He hesitates. His fingers twitch, but remain at his sides. “You need some help? You don’t look- too good.”

Aziraphale sways, but maintains his balance, which he decides is good enough. Has to be good enough. “Scrapes and bruises,” he says, waving a hand. “I’ll be fine.”

Crawly leaves, then, and Aziraphale forces himself to keep walking. One step in front of another. Miracles keeping him awake, though he doesn’t use one to ensure he doesn’t topple over. The sun sears his eyes. But all he sees through the brightness is Crawly: golden, dark, compassion in his gaze and that one moment when all words had failed Aziraphale and he’d lain there, helpless. That one moment when Aziraphale ought to have been more terrified than ever before in all his existence, and all he’d felt was a queer, silently overwhelming sensation instead. That one moment he’d trusted Crawly, despite the glitter of War in his hair.

...

Dangerous. Because Aziraphale is young, and he is good, and Crawly is not. He is a demon. Aziraphale is an angel. There are inextricable lines there, and Aziraphale will not let what he is be changed by anyone, for anything. He is Aziraphale the Angel, who once bore a flaming sword and guarded the Garden of Eden. Brightness sings in him in the place of his blood.

And yet-

...

(Aziraphale meets Crawly once after that, and Crawly doesn’t look at him, just tosses a bag in his vague direction and flees. Aziraphale opens it that night and see an array of things: oil, tweezers, a curved tool that is likely to help with itchy feathers. Warmth blooms in his chest. He doesn’t thank Crawly, the next time they meet, and Crawly doesn’t mention it, but never after is War invoked between the two of them.)

...

There was a druid in Gaul with eyes the color of amber, like embers on the verge of flames. Aziraphale’d lived with him for a short time and he’d loved him, in his way [4], at least until he woke up to sunlight slanting over the man’s face, throwing it into sharp-edged shadows.

Cro, Aziraphale sighs, a mush-mouthed syllable, before his brain catches up to his mouth and terror and shame swirl up his guts like hot lava.

It’s not the longest he’s ever avoided Crawly, those years after meeting that druid, but they are the ones in which Aziraphale’s done his utmost to keep him at bay; any rumor of evil or petty crime or cruelty and he runs in the opposite direction. It means Aziraphale’s effectively terrible at his job. It also means that he travels the world for a good eighty years- he sees, in that time: Pataliputra, Xi’an, Asahi, Deen Maar, Napata. He meets more people; eats different foods; does exciting things. The travel itself is exhausting but-

Good.

It’s drowning, yes, but in a good way. And Aziraphale is, if nothing else, the earth’s oldest definer of good.

It’s not the longest he’s avoided Crawly, perhaps, but it is the most successful he’s ever been in avoiding even thinking about him. It’s not until he’s forced back by a flustered angel, constantly muttering on the flight from Australia to some dusty alley in Jerusalem about how there’s an urgent matter and policy from on high and oh, good Lord, you’ve missed far too much-

He’s miracled into the city and given three hours to not only find different clothes, learn a new language, and understand what that decision is that the angel hadn’t been able to shut up about, all the while refusing to describe it in anything less than the vaguest of terms- but also to get his dusty, mind-numbed body to that hill. Which isn’t all that close to the city. By the time he gets there, he’s lost all patience and has had tired resignation poured into his veins instead.

Then Aziraphale turns and his eyes meets his, and something snaps deep in Aziraphale’s chest like a little twig. Sun and sand and golden eyes, brighter than any metal in his sword or fire running across it [5]. You rather like him, thinks Aziraphale, despite the sharpness of his face and the tartness of his tongue and the decades he’s spent not thinking about this exact- issue [6].

No, he thinks, and he’s just tired enough to feel the resignation, though he certainly don’t have the energy to be truthful on the actual issue. This is. A little more... complex.

Crawly’s eyes remind Aziraphale of the sun, of honey, of buttery flowers blossoming in Eden. Of Gabriel’s light, the parts that aren’t too bright to be called colorful, but he knows that if he ever say that part aloud Crawly will probably self-combust from the rage. His face is like a hatchet, chin sharp and cheeks hollowed, but it’s a good look on him. His gait is still snake-like (it becomes worse when men’s fashion starts on jeans- they suit him, the two-faced bastard, and he knows it), and when he sits he sprawls like he’s forgotten quite how his joints are supposed to bend.

None of it should be even vaguely appealing.

All of it is.

And Aziraphale is... lonely. He has loved humans, he has loved multiple humans; he has lain with them and watched them bear children and loved those as well, he has buried them and mourned them and once, memorably, watched them be born. But there is no one else in all the universe that has watched humanity as Aziraphale has, and there is no one else that has existed through the dark times and the bright quite like Aziraphale and Crawly. Crowley. Whatever. His name changes little of what he is- sly, and wily, and brilliant like a too-bright sunrise.

He inhales, heat and blood heavy in the air, to speak. To offer- something. Lunch, maybe, or wine, or just quiet company under the cloudy sky. But when Aziraphale turns, he’s gone. There is nothing there, just the smell of smoke and damp earth that’s swiftly carried away by the wind.

When next Aziraphale meets Crowley- a restaurant in Rome- Aziraphale goes up to him.

It is not quite as frightening as he’d feared it to be, though he’s just as stupidly awkward about it all.

...

Not that too much changes after that. Aziraphale fights him, sometimes, and follow him, others, and if he lets himself smile a little too wide in the hours that Aziraphale’s next to him, who would blame him? Demons don’t smile, everyone knows that. They just bare their teeth. Aziraphale’s trying to frighten him off in a language he’ll understand. He’s smart about it all.

Who would question that?

...

New Year’s, about sixty years following their meeting in Wessex. Aziraphale’s outside and laying on a straw roof, so cold he’d probably be dead if he were human. But he’s miracled a clear sky for himself instead of the planned storm and the stars are liquid-bright and shining above him. There’s good wine in Aziraphale’s flask, probably frozen solid. He has a good life, of a sort, right then- he’s a monk, and though he isn’t made for the ascetic life, there’s something refreshing in the novelty of denial anyhow.

“Aziraphale,” says a voice that he knows far too well.

He turns and looks. There’s no human-figure around, but a glowing scarlet aura looped around a bundle of straw that shines like wildfire. Aziraphale looks closer and sees a shadowy little snake, striped black and gold.

“Crowley,” he says, puzzled. “What are you doing here?”

“No greeting?” he asks, drawing tighter on himself. “Really?”

Aziraphale frowns. There’s something very strange in the way that Crowley’s coiled in on himself. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” hisses Crowley. “I just don’t know why I’m- here.”

“Well,” says Aziraphale. “You don’t look fine.”

“I am fine,” says Crowley, and he rises up, snake-neck trembling, to glare at Aziraphale with eyes that are too familiar. There’s also a dripping gash down his entire body, black matter slowly staining and spreading over his scales.

Aziraphale cries out and reaches for it before stilling and looking at him, hands fluttering in the air like distressed birds. “You don’t look fine,” he says. “Crowley, you look like you’re going to be discorporated!”

“Yes, yes, it’s worse than it looks. I’m healing.”

“You don’t look it!”

“Which is why it’s worse than it looks,” he says impatiently. “Anyways. I didn’t come here to worry you.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know why you were here.”

“I- lied.”

“Crowley-”

“We meet up every century,” says Crowley. “And I brought the wine last time. It’s your turn. Did you think I’d forget?” Then, without letting Aziraphale so much as breathe, “Please tell me that isn’t homemade. These monks are the kind to let mushrooms grow on milk and bottle the fumes for money. I’m not drinking that.”

“No, no, it’s from Rome.” From the Great Fire, which had taken quite a few miracles to achieve. Aziraphale’s been saving it for something good. Which he finds is perfect for this: a cold winter night, Crowley beside him, and love like wings curling around his shoulders. “You’ll like it.”

Crowley lets his snakes’ tongue flick into the wine. “Mmm,” he says. Something loosens in his body, at least enough for him to rest, warm and rough, against Aziraphale’s side. “Really good stuff, that. Better than anything they have down there.”

His tail flickers, turning into an arrow that echoes a pitchfork.

“Is that where you’ve been?” asks Aziraphale, curious though he knows he shouldn’t be. “Down... there?”

“Satan’s under the impression we don’t have enough drama in our lives,” says Crowley flatly. Aziraphale takes a drink of the wine, miracles it warm. Feels it slide down your throat. The faint aftertaste of hellfire sings out, vivid, and he doesn’t mind it one bit. “He wants to shake up everything. Move demons around. We’re all getting too comfortable, apparently, and nobody’s job’s safe.”

Aziraphale stretches out, limbs soft and easy. “We get promotions up there,” he says.

“Too orderly for us,” says Crowley. “Or, how do you lot put it? Too fucking diligent, I suppose.”

“I always assumed you’d have to kill anyone above you to get a promotion down there,” says Aziraphale.

Crowley laughs, stunned into sound. “You’re not- entirely- wrong.” He doesn’t gasp it, not exactly, but there’s a hitch to his breathing that makes the hairs on the back of Aziraphale’s neck stand up.

“Don’t turn discorporeal on me now,” says Aziraphale, and his voice is harsher than he’s ever heard it before. “And- why you?”

Crowley’s head slips to the side, annoyed. “Morons think I want to return to Hell. Become an- archdemon, or whatever.”

Aziraphale’d felt a knot in his chest at Jesus’ crucifixion, Crowley dark and tall next to him, and he feels it again now- needles sliding under his skin, far colder than the snow. Aziraphale is an angel and Crowley is a demon, and those lines are inextricable. For all that Aziraphale will feel grief, he won’t stop Crowley from leaving. Not if it’s his choice. Aziraphale is an angel, and he cannot forget that, and yet-

“And do you? Want to return?”

Crowley inhales loudly, exhales loudly. He blinks one large golden eye. He says, voice labored, “The wine down there’s absolute shit. Better up here. And- I rather like the quiet. The space. The. You know. Lack of shit.”

“Well, then,” says Aziraphale. Some part of him feels wobbly, like a newborn colt, but the rest of him feels weirdly calm. “Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

“What... do you mean?”

“Unholy weapon did that to you, yes?”

“A sword forged in hellfire,” agrees Crowley. His tongue flicks out and takes a drop of wine, before he arches up to rest on Aziraphale’s thigh.

Aziraphale reaches out, slowly enough for him to pull away if he wants. Runs his fingers over the golden ribbon of Crowley’s scales. Touches the blackened edge that’s cut open, leaking matter that would be blood in a human. It will take a miracle that he’s certain anyone up above would disapprove of, but Crowley is Crowley, and Aziraphale is an angel with magic dripping from his fingers, and that is all that matters right now.

“I can heal you,” says Aziraphale softly.

Crowley looks up, moving too sluggishly. Worry sparks in Aziraphale’s throat, but he tamps it down. Stares at him instead. Waits.

“Very well then,” he says, after a long pause, voice unsteady. Aziraphale hesitates still- unsure of where to touch- and Crowley’s tail twitches viciously. “Get on with it, angel.”

“Patience,” murmurs Aziraphale, and trails his fingers over the scales.

Gold sparks over it and for the briefest of heartbeats both of them are awash in light as bright as the sun at high noon. Then it fades, and all that remains is a long streak of reddish white on scales that had once been black as pitch.

“That does feel better,” says Crowley, flexing. “I wonder...”

He shifts into human form and something creaks ominously. Aziraphale opens his mouth to warn him; Crowley swipes the flask out of his hand.

“Crowley,” says Aziraphale slowly, rolling the syllables around his mouth like he’s brazing it in honey. “Do you... know who did this to you?”

He jerks, reflexively, and gets “Balth-” out of his mouth before there’s another crack. There’s only just enough time for Aziraphale to get his wings out and launch himself into the air before the roof caves in. And then he looks down, hovering, and Crowley’s a disheveled, straw-laden mess, clutching the wine-flask upside down and looking absolutely distraught.

Aziraphale isn’t actually certain what’s going to come out of his mouth, then- it’s all a mess inside of him, anger and fear and worry like thick molasses down his throat [7]. But what erupts is laughter, so loud he almost instinctively look over his shoulder, and now his stomach’s aching from it, and his lungs are breathless, and it has been far, far too long since he last laughed so deep as this.

“Bugger it,” snarls Crowley. He looks up at Aziraphale, eyes flashing so gold and rich that Aziraphale feels it expand inside of him like a blooming flower. “Bugger you, too, you- you angel-”

“I am an angel, Crowley,” says Aziraphale, and slides down to catch his hand and pull him up, still gasping a little. “That’s what I am. How else did you think I healed you?”

Crowley pulls away sharply, but doesn’t do anything other than brush himself off more vigorously than necessary. Aziraphale grins at him, and in the dim light of the stars he thinks he can see a curve to his lips as well. Quietly, Aziraphale miracles himself the spilled wine back into the flask and pours it into a small cup. Crowley startles when Aziraphale hands it to him.

“What-”

“To the seventh century,” says Aziraphale, holding the flask aloft. “May we make our people proud.”

Something hoods over Crowley’s eyes, dark and cold, but he does lift the cup. “To us,” he says, and his voice rings with a savage echo. “And another five thousand years here, and nowhere else.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Aziraphale says, and nudges him, and watches with faint satisfaction as the rage in Crowley’s face is replaced with his customary sardonic glare.

Long past when the sun ought to rise, it remains dark. Aziraphale suspects a miracle from Crowley’s side; but he doesn’t say anything about it. Just passes the flask to Crowley and accepts it back from him, barely speaking, and welcomes another century to the earth.

...

Demons cannot love. Is it not the very antithesis of their being, to love when all of what they are made is hate and greed and darkness? And Aziraphale- Aziraphale is a being of love, created by it and for it, and so all of what he feels with Crowley must be simply that: the love of an angel for those who have walked beside him for six thousand years. Companionship. Kindness. Compassion. He doesn’t expect anything back, because how can he? Crowley is a demon, and Aziraphale is an angel; that is inextricable. And so the love lives on, silent and undimmed, a flame in his heart.

...

Aziraphale’s got enough on his hands keeping the peace in the ruins of Belgrade when a black-visaged man stalks up to him and catches his collar.

Before Aziraphale can so much as react, the man’s shifted his grip to a stronger one and dragged him further back into the shadows of the alley. He sputters, drags himself up, and the taut pressure across his shoulders eases just enough that he’s not worried about a strained muscle.

“Hey,” says Crowley, a mutter just low enough for him to hear.

Aziraphale recoils, smashing his head against the stone of the building and hissing at the new pain. “Crowley,” he hisses, rage building up through his throat. “Is that- I should’ve- what are you doing here?”

“Calm down,” he replies, voice going even lower and tenser. “And shut up.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale warns. “Is this you?”

"Is what me?”

“The- Zemun.”

Aziraphale’d joined the People’s Crusade [8] for no reason other than that he thought it his job to keep the already-inflamed tempers of the peasants from being inflamed further. It hadn’t worked as he hoped: when he wandered off to heal a girl with weeping sores on her hands, he’d returned to see half the Crusaders pillaging Zemun and following it up with an even worse pillaging of Belgrade just across the river, all the natives having abandoned the city after hearing of how vicious the Crusaders could be.

Crowley sends Aziraphale a look over the tops of his glasses that’s clearly visible even in the dark alley. “No,” he says, and he sounds just as deliberately, infuriatingly patronizing as he had in the Egyptian desert. “I’ve been. You know. A little busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Oh. This and that. A bit of tempting, bit of wiling, bit of running from some very stupid... agents.”

“Running?” Aziraphale asks dumbly.

His teeth flash, and then Crowley snakes around Aziraphale’s shoulders, fingers loosening on his lapels but shoulders crowding Aziraphale further against the wall. “Found 'em out a few days ago. Didn’t expect to be seeing you here, though. Fancy that.”

“My side?” asks Aziraphale slowly, fearing the worst.

“Mmm. Someone’s side, at least. Have holy water, and aren’t afraid to use it.”

“I’m assuming that’s bad.”

“Saw it happen to a demon once.” Crowley shudders. “Discorporation isn’t it. It’s. Death. Final. For demons.”

“So it’s angels doing it.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Or some very stupid demons.”

And yet, for all his bravado- Aziraphale can see the way his skin’s greyed out under the aura he’s projecting. His face had always been sharp, but never this hollow. Never this emaciated. Their bodies don’t need sleep or food like humans, but they are not tireless- using miracles can drain them. And even that shouldn’t have put this particular look on Crowley’s face, all hunted and wild.

“How’d you find out?”

Aziraphale’s suspicions are confirmed when Crowley inhales, wet and gasping, like it hurts. “I was... taking a day off. Relaxing. Next thing I know there’s two idiots in the room, taking shots at me with a bunch of daggers.” His fingers twitch. “They got my wings.”

“Crowley,” breathes Aziraphale.

“It’ll be fine. I just need. A minute.”

“I’ve got a room,” he says impulsively. “An inn, not too far from here. If you need a little more than a minute, that is.”

“That hasn’t been burned down?”

“I am an angel. Miracles are my thing.”

“Believe me,” he mutters. “I can’t forget.”

“Can you walk?”

His face spasms. “Can I walk? How’d you think I got here, crawling? Slithering, maybe, on my belly-” He looks at Aziraphale’s expression, all stricken and steadily turning furious, and something like an apology crosses his face. “Yes, I can do it.”

They stumble out of the alley, Crowley’s arm heavy around Aziraphale’s shoulders. For all his assurances, Aziraphale’s the one bearing the majority of his weight; and for all Aziraphale’s promises to himself not to care, he leans into that steady warmth. By the time they reach the inn, though, Crowley’s warmth has faded. He scarcely seems conscious. Aziraphale manages to get him up the stairs and tipped onto the bed, but he’s gone white as a sheet and cold; too cold.

He’s a snake, thinks Aziraphale, tapping his fingers against the inside of his wrist nervously. Before he turned human, he was a- snake.

So maybe Aziraphale doesn’t need to worry overmuch. Maybe Crowley isn’t as close to discorporation as he suspects he is. But the very fact that he’s lost enough control to maintain even his body temperature- that makes fear flutter around Aziraphale’s chest like a shivering plant.

Mind made up, he lean forwards and presses his fingers to his chest. Right above where his heart would beat in a human. Aziraphale doesn’t ask this time- not that he could, not that Crowley can hear- but he thinks that even if he’d been awake and forced Aziraphale away, he’d not let him. Aziraphale would return. He would place his hand above Crowley’s heart, and he’d make him better, because he is an angel, he is an angel, he is-

Well.

It scarcely matters what else Aziraphale is right now. He has magic in his fingers, and that is all that matters. He pours that down into Crowley’s chest, washing away the trembles and the paleness of his cheeks. He stops once Crowley’s muscles relax out of their rigidity, though he doesn’t lift his hand either- there’s something in the steady beat of Crowley’s heart that makes him soften, and a vicious fear underlying that that makes Aziraphale want to just... sit there. Listen. And breathe.

He tilts his head and listens with ears that don’t belong in the mortal plane. There’s the faint smell of smoke, and some screams; a few prayers that he soothes over. Nothing that Aziraphale can fix right away. No pressing duties.

Slowly, Aziraphale sinks into a chair next to the bed, hand not moving. He curves over his arm, forehead warm against his forearm, and the thud-thud-thud of Crowley’s heart drums against his fingers, unending and even and unfaltering.

...

The next morning, Crowley makes a sharp, bitten-off sound and arches, curving off the bed at an angle that no human would manage. Aziraphale flinches upright, hand aching from the strange angle he’d left it in overnight. Crowley relaxes a moment later- before Aziraphale can so much as react- but he’s shaking, and his glasses have fallen off to reveal his eyes as wholly slitted and wild with some old, ancient fear.

“This shouldn’t be happening,” Aziraphale says, barely keeping his stammering out of his voice. “Crowley, I healed you. You should be fine by now!”

“Not a physical problem, angel,” hisses Crowley, the long muscles in his legs alternately flexing and relaxing as if readying for another wave of pain.

Aziraphale considers that. “Your wings, then?”

“Know any other part of me that’s metaphysical?”

“Crowley!”

“Yes, alright, it’s my wings. I told you they’re all ripped up. Fucking Balthazar and his vendettas.”

Aziraphale stills, heat licking at his ribs like proper flame. He knows that name. He feels the old anger, but bites his tongue instead of speaking. There is a time and place for righteous anger, and this- this is not it.

“They can’t be bleeding still.”

“I- no,” says Crowley, and there’s something miserable in the angles of his face. “They stopped doing that almost immediately. But I needed them [8]. So I just...” He waves a hand, some gruesome parody of flippancy. “You know. Miracled it better.”

“Crowley,” says Aziraphale, anger washed away by the abrupt fear. “That could’ve ruined them permanently!”

“Let’s hope that didn’t happen.”

“Well- what did you think about? With your miracle?”

“That I’d like my wings normal again,” says Crowley. “I don’t know. I was slightly delirious by then. Maybe- that I’d like my feathers back? ‘m not sure.”

“Open them.”

“What?” Crowley wrenches himself to the side, whole body coiling up. “Are you insane?”

“Open them,” Aziraphale repeats flatly. “If you asked for your feathers back and they didn’t return like they should’ve, you’ll need someone to help you with that. To put them back where... they belong. I wouldn’t- you shouldn’t try to fix it on your own.”

One golden eye rolls to study Aziraphale, with far too keen a look. “An angel’s mercy,” he drawls, biting, and Aziraphale fights to keep from letting the memory of the Egyptian desert overwhelm him. The trust he’d had, running beneath rage and hurt like a river remained unfrozen even when iced over the surface. The golden cast of Crowley’s eyes and the shine of his hair. The way he’d tensed his fingers, right after he’d clutched onto Aziraphale’s feathers, like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d done.

“Better you stay on earth than any other demon,” says Aziraphale quietly. “And. I’m not cruel, Crowley, I don’t want to see you in pain!” He breathes in quickly, sharply, before continuing. “So. Open them. I’ll- fix it. Then we’ll go find those... agents. Convince them to leave you alone. Then things’ll just- go back to normal [9].”

Crowley scoffs in the back of his throat, but he rolls himself over onto his front without any further complaints. His wings burst into being, black and shining, nearly taking Aziraphale out before he ducks away. When he regains his balance and looks- really looks- he can’t quite help the shocked gasp.

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse,” Aziraphale says faintly.

Then, gritting his teeth, he drags the chair back and settles in it as comfortably as he can. They’re going to be here for a while.

...

By the end of it, Crowley’s fallen asleep. He looks even more liquid than he usually does: all puddled spine and boneless limbs. Aziraphale takes a moment to admire the way his face looks in sleep- there’s the thinnest strip of yellow running under his lashes, and a patch of skin across his nose that sags where it doesn’t while he’s awake, and the faintest shadow of a beard under his jaw [10]. Aziraphale doesn’t enjoy sleep, not really, but he thinks he might if it were as relaxing as Crowley seems to find it.

Rolling his wrists, Aziraphale slumps back into the chair. He closes his eyes and-

-a scream. A flickering candle. A feeling, cool and rapidly fading, that he hasn’t felt in too long-

A call to arms.

“Oh,” he sighs.

The strange sorrow in Aziraphale’s chest is both unwanted and unneeded. He doesn’t want to leave Crowley like this, defenseless and barely healed over. But Aziraphale is an angel, and he is on earth to do his duty. He’ll do what must be done.

Inextricable lines, thinks Aziraphale tiredly, and rises. Ineffable plans.

He lingers in the doorway for a long moment. Wonders if there’s something more to do- a note, perhaps, or some food, or maybe even an address. For when this is all over. Then a flicker of a thought crosses his mind, wicked and amusing and wonderfully vengeful, and Aziraphale walks back to Crowley and grips his wrist loosely.

“You promised me another five thousand years, dear boy,” says Aziraphale, so quietly he can’t even hear himself as he lets go and backs away, unlocks the door and slips out of his own room. “Don’t you dare break that.”

...

[1] In the late twentieth century, the fashion craze for transparent electronics left Aziraphale warmly vindicated. It also left him in possession of an award from Head Office, for “being ahead of the curve by a record six thousand years.”

[2] Aziraphale has the recipe for Damascan steel somewhere in his bookstore. He’s kept very quiet about that, because when he told Crowley he knew how to make Greek fire, Crowley hadn’t shut up about it for a good three months and it had been... very irritating.

[3] A very peculiar smell. Not of Hell, and certainly not of Heaven. It reminds Aziraphale of the way the land smells after a rainstorm kills a fire; not pleasant but not unpleasant, and wholly unique to Florida’s Everglades.

[4] Which is to say that he was about as emotionally repressed as Aziraphale on a good day, and Aziraphale held his hand as he died.

[5] And just as sharp, which is just bloody unfair.

[6] Aziraphale calls it an issue because calling it anything else would be untrue. Except for disaster, which while not untrue would make it something too dramatic, and Aziraphale hasn’t really liked the dramatic world all that much since he was first introduced to it in Dwaraka. Or truth, because that- while also not untrue- implies he has the energy to tease out lies amidst the truth, and he absolutely does not. Or even problem, because that implies something that needs to be solved, and this does not. Ever.

[7] The full name of the demon never comes out of Crowley’s mouth, but it doesn’t matter; Aziraphale knows the word Balthazar when he hears it. For the briefest of moments he’s certain that if he’d had his old sword right then, it would’ve flamed white, or perhaps even blue. Maybe hotter. So hot the stars themselves would melt before it.

[8] The story behind Crowley needing the wings went something like this: Crowley was in a room cordoned off from the roof of the cathedral of the Hagia Sophia by demonic sigils, preening his wings. It’s one of about two dozen places he has scattered around the world for his own privacy. It’s also the reason he’s certain the agents following him are demonic- only a demon could walk through the door without being discorporated (in the case of angels) or incinerated (in the case of humans). He’d quite literally jumped out of the window a few minutes later- once he realized he didn’t have the firepower to get rid of them- and only remembered his ragged wings when he didn’t have any solid ground under his feet. His mental processes right then had been something approaching “FEATHERS! NOW! NOW! FUCKING HELL I NEED FEATHERS-”  which goes some way towards explaining how terribly the re-feathering of his wings had gone- primaries in the place of tertiary feathers, flight feathers instead of pins. Pain, really, and mistakes all around.

[9] Not... exactly, though Aziraphale does live in a world of perpetual hope.

[interportant]

I Bet You Never Heard This One In School

(Image is from a map of the year 1754)

The vast empire of Tartary is a country that appears on ancient maps.

It had worldwide influence and once covered North and South America, Australia, New Zealand most of Russia, China, Europe, Japan, India and Korea. For the most part the citizens of this country were led by their own guidance of natural law honoring truth and integrity. They enjoyed a high standard of living and dwelt in harmony with nature. They built amazing edifices all over the world. The wonderous cathedrals of Europe and the enormous aqueducts in southern Europe and in Mexico. The Grand Canal in China and the Erie Canal in America. The fabulous outside arenas around the Mediterranean Sea. The Coliseum in Rome and the magnificent temples in St. Petersburg Russia. They lived in luxuriant villas. They made ziggurats, star forts, dolmens and earthen mounds all of which utilized Etheric natural energy. They created exquisite statues and crafted golden ornaments. They built the Great Wall in what is now China. Marco Polo wrote an extensive and detailed account of Asia in the 13th and 14th centuries and did not even mention a wall. The Great Wall is not seen on any maps pre-dating the late 1600’s. So most of it’s construction occurred in 1700’s and it was built to keep the encroaching Chinese out of Tartaria. The openings on the wall are on the north side towards the former Tartary not on the south China facing side. It should be called the Great Wall of Tartaria. The further back in time you go the more advanced it gets. There are many pyramids of different kinds. Megalithic temples hewn out of solid rock. The Ellora Caves in India. The colossal underground monolithic churches of Lalibela Ethiopia. Extensive underground tunnel systems. The astonishing Serapeum of Saqqara in Egypt. The earlier the monolithic stone the bigger it is and the more precision it is cut with. The earlier the structure the more incapable we are of replicating it. Never was mortar used. In past ages the world was more diverse. Skeletons of giants are found on all continents. And remains of beings with elongated skulls. Graveyards of little people and horned human like entities have been unearthed. Now it is as if these beings have never existed. Like the Tartarians they are never mentioned. We live in a virtual reality where true history is ignored and covered up. A totally false narrative is taught. Fantasies have replaced truth and everything is pushed way back to the remote past. Older advanced structures are credited to local people who came later who have no idea how to build them. Deception has been utilized to push history back a thousand years and create an artificial dark age. The time of Jesus was less than 1000 years ago. In the Middle Ages the i and J before numbers designated Jesus. Not the number one. For example i346 is 346 years after the time of Jesus. It is not 1346. Way back in the Old Testament at the time immediately following the Exodus it states that the Israelites used the Arc of the Covenant as a weapon of war. Against the Amorites, Midianites and Philistines. So the use of energy weapons has been going on for over a thousand years. It was perfected to the point where it was able to take out many millions of Tartarians. The energy weapons melted cities and destroyed the civilizations of Egypt, Greece and Rome which were approximately of the same time period as Jesus and were heavily influenced by Tartaria. Not only are they pushed way back into remote history, the extent of their empires have been fabricated. Destroying the pyramid complex was the first objective of the Israelites. Puma Punku which is part of the Tiahuanacu complex in Bolivia had interlocking megaliths of andesite and diorite. These are types of granite only surpassed in hardness by diamonds but they were somehow carved with laser like flatness. Now they are broken and shattered and blown to bits. Tiahuanaco and Puma Punku is said to have been built by a simple local migrating tribe. This idea is used all over the world to dismiss and cover-up the ancient advanced cultures. Energy weaponized from the Arc of the Covenant is what brought down the Walls of Jericho. The Arc was an electrical capacitor composed of silver and brass alloys and gilded with gold. It’s true purpose was to store and direct energy from the Earth to outside sources. But transporting it around was very dangerous and it caused people to become sick and die. It had a constant radiation but it also sent out intermittent electrical surges where many people were killed instantly. The ones who carried it had to wear protective clothing. The electrical capacity of such an apparatus would be over 500 volts. Opposing armies would be defenseless against such a weapon. The volume or cubic capacity of the empty coffer inside the Kings Chamber in the Great Pyramid of Giza is exactly the same volume as the Arc of the Covenant. According to Egyptian tradition the Israelites plundered Egypt during the upheaval at the time of the Exodus. They took the Arc out of the so called Kings Chamber in the Great Pyramid of Giza at this time. The tribe of Israel also used religion as a means to get their foot in the door in the ruling affairs of foreign countries. A religious leader holds great power able to influence many simple minds who believe the leader’s edicts are from God. The Druids who held such sway in England were Jewish. So were the Jesuits. So have been all the Popes and the Mormon leaders. The reason why Jewish people look down upon Christians is because they know they invented the Christian religion. Jewish beliefs are just a rendition of the former appearances and interactions of planetary Gods. Books written in Tartary were rewritten and sold as Jewish history. Much of the content was fabricated and interfused with traditional local beliefs. This is how they sold their religion. They used Monks to write what they wanted making them think they were doing God’s work. The burning of old books and the rewriting of them in order to change history is the real Reformation. The Library of Alexandria in Egypt was purposely destroyed to limit knowledge. Making deals with kings was a way they were able to get control of a country’s financial system. Once one controls the money supply and its allotments then they control the country. In this way righteous kings were replaced by insurgent kings who defrauded the people to take part in unjust wars. Just fake an event such as a murder, blame it on another country, add some patriotic and religious slogans, demonize the other country and you have created a war. In the Middle Ages the spraying of viruses not only eliminated entire villages it caused the Black Plague which killed off over 70 million people in Europe. Disease was a favorite weapon used against the Tartarian kingdom. In 1346 at the Siege of Kaffa in the Ukraine the Tartarians suffered an epidemic of plague brought on by the catapulting of viruses into the city. Fire was used to burn crops and create famine. The 1490’s saw the first signs of collapse of the Tartary Empire. In 1666 the city of London was intentionally burned. Tartaria was severely weakened in 1775. But it remained until the early 1800’s. When Napoleon attacked Russia, Moscow was hit by an energy weapon. So was Washington DC in the War of 1812. These wars were actually wars against Tartarians. The first two world wars were to wipe out remaining Tartarian influences. Genghis Khan was said to be a Mogul. Mogul is just a made-up name which is then associated with Mongolia. Genghis Khan fought to restore the kingdom of Tartary and reclaim their land. His mounted warriors were called Tartars. Now Tartary is associated with hell. Many buildings in America demolished or still standing, said to be built by early pioneers or native people in America were in fact built by the Tartars. Disease was also used against the native people in the Americas. It is estimated that 95% of them perished from disease. Mostly smallpox. The Aztecs looked upon the Spaniards as the returning of their light colored god. Their beliefs harkened back to the events in the ancient sky when a light colored god came down from the heavens to save them. But these light colored people came to kill them. The Old World Order was replaced by the New World Order. And the Gregorian Calendar was instituted. To force the common people to accept a new false chronology. Peace and freedom was been replaced by being fenced up in strict borders. The suppression of Tartary coincides with the new teaching of evolution. We just think we are evolving. We have become disconnected with nature and disconnected with reality. It was not always like that. The farther back in time you go the more connected and at peace we were. With ourselves, with the animals and with the land we lived on.

We were fluttering longing creatures a thousand thousand years before the sea and the wind gave us words. How can we express the ancient of days in us with only the sounds of our yesterdays?

Source: https://bennettleeross.com/history/the-lost-empire-of-tartary-the-arc-of-the-covenant-and-the-new-world-order/

More reading: https://www.stolenhistory.org/forums/tartary-a-k-a-tartaria.69/

Also plenty of vids from independent researchers on YT

[alphacoplumbing-blog]

Hot Water History & Amazing Facts

Have you ever wondered about the things we use and do in our everyday lives and where it all began ? Who were the first people who tried things, what prompted them to do it and how successful their attempts were. Imagine the misery of cold water in the winter and the triumph of successfully heating your first bowl of hot water. Oh the joy of your hot drink, your food, bath or its stone age equivalent. Enjoying its everyday blessing, it improves our health, wellbeing and brings pleasure to our existence. Heating our beds at night, our showers or baths and the benefits of drinking it, from teas and coffees to as it is. Progressing from boiling over fires and stoves, to instantaneous gas or electrical heating, technology has increased our efficiency, saving energy and the planet.

Civilizations and Hot Water

The Romans: used aqueducts to supply water to public bath houses, complete with indoor plumbing and some containing debating rooms and libraries with socializing an important objective. The Ancient Greeks: mostly utilized small bathtubs and basins but established showers and baths in gymnasiums for relaxation and hygiene. Medieval Japan: before the 7th century people mostly bathed in springs outdoors until the adoption of Buddhism and the inclusion of a bathhouse in the temples.  

Ancient Indians: enjoyed such elaborate practices for personal hygiene that they bathed three times a day and it is still in practice today in some communities. Europe: In the Middle Ages, bathing commonly took place in public bathhouses. Public baths were also havens for prostitution, which created some opposition to them. Rich people bathed at home, most likely in their bedroom, as 'bath' rooms were not common. Bathing was done in large, wooden tubs with a linen cloth laid in it to protect the bather from splinters.

Not everyone enjoyed the practice of bathing and it decreased in popularity in the 16th century across most of Western Europe. Personal hygiene was at an all time low with only the areas of flesh exposed requiring bathing.   Additionally, during the Renaissance and Protestant Reformation, the quality and condition of the clothing (as opposed to the actual cleanliness of the body itself) were thought to reflect the soul of an individual. Clean clothing also reflected one's social status; clothes made the man or woman. This was not a pleasant time to be in large gatherings or confined spaces! It was often so bad that women carried tiny posies of flowers to avoid odors (which is the reason brides still carry bouquets to this day) Thankfully bathing  underwent a revival in the mid and late 18th Century due to Christianity placing a strong emphasis on hygiene and good health. Clement of Alexandria and Pope Gregory the Great urged followers to value bathing.

Modern Day: most people could not envision a life without daily bathing of some kind and the accessibility of hot water enables us to enjoy this simple pleasure as often as we wish.

Hot Water Heating Methods  through the ages

306 AD: Romans had large baths facilitated with heated water, whereas these were not considered as real water heaters, but can be regarded as a pioneer work for water heating. 1868: An English painter Benjamin Waddy Maughan patented the first water heater. This was the very first residential water heater, which used natural gas’ses for heating the water. The heater did not have a flue for the ventilation of gas vapors, so it was unsafe to use in households. 1889: Edmund Ruud took inspiration from Waddy Maughan’s  water heater and took forward his design by including additional safety features. This was the initial step towards the invention of  the modern water heater.

Edmun Ruud Hot Water System Engineer 1880's 1990: This  era is considered as the  golden period for water heater inventions. Many designs of water heaters were postulated by various people. It was the period when electric water heaters, solar water heaters and gas water heaters came into existence. Present: Today, we are only  required to turn on the switch of a water heater and hot water is  directly tapped into our showers, bathtubs, sinks, and basins. This seems like a miracle but it  is the advancement of technology. Technology has made our lives so much easier.

The Water Heating Process

Water heating is a heat transfer process that uses an energy source to heat water above its initial temperature.  Rarely, hot water occurs naturally, usually from natural hot springs.  Domestically, water is  traditionally heated in water heaters, kettles, or pots but this  did not produce a continual supply of heated water at a preset temperature. The temperature varies with the consumption rate, becoming cooler as flow increases. 

Appliances that provide a continual supply of hot water are called water heaters, hot water heaters, hot water tanks, boilers, heat exchangers, geysers, or calorifiers. These names depend on region, for domestic or industrial use, and their energy source.  Heating hot water today  - Instant Continuous Flow Hot Water Vs Traditional Hot Water Storage Tanks With the best Instant Continuous Flow Hot water systems, you never run out of hot water as it can maintain the flow indefinitely, no matter how many people have used it before you.

  Traditional Hot Water Storage Tanks have a limited capacity typically between the 135L and 170L storage range and once all the storage in the tank is used up it takes time to reheat the fresh water entering the tank.

  Fossil fuels (natural gas, liquefied petroleum gas, oil), or solid fuels are commonly used for heating water. These may be consumed directly or may produce electricity that, in turn, heats water. Electricity to heat water may also come from any other electrical source, such as nuclear power or renewable energy. Alternative energy such as solar energy, heat pumps, hot water heat recycling, and geothermal heating can also heat water, often in combination with backup systems powered by fossil fuels or electricity. Densely populated urban areas of some countries provide district heating of hot water. This is especially the case in Scandinavia, Finland and Poland. District heating systems supply energy for water heating and space heating from combined heat and power (CHP) plants, waste heat from industries, incinerators, geothermal heating, and central solar heating. Actual heating of tap water is performed in heat exchangers at the consumers' premises. Generally the consumer has no in-building backup system, due to the expected high availability of district heating systems.

In the United States and Australia today, domestic hot water used in homes is most commonly heated with natural gas, electric resistance, or a heat pump. Electric heat pump hot water heaters are significantly more efficient than electric resistance hot water heaters, but also more expensive to purchase. Some energy utilities offer their customers funding to help offset the higher first cost of energy efficient hot water heaters. Increasing, many households are turning to solar energy to heat their homes and their water, being both low in cost and minimal on  impact on the environment. Many industries rely heavily on hot water in their processing and for their cleaning needs. 

There is a lot of research being conducted into our well being and health and the following has been discovered about bathing and consuming hot water. Top 10 Reasons for Hot Water Bathing or Showering   Fall asleep faster. Twenty minutes in a  warm bath relaxes the body and better prepares us for falling asleep. It releases tension, increases the body temperature and soothes us both mentally and physically.  

Relieves muscle tension. Hot showers can relieve tension and soothe stiff muscles working like a massage on your neck, shoulders and back. It’s a quick energizer and gets us going in the morning too.

Improves blood circulation. Both hot showers or hot baths improves blood circulation. Imersing yourself in a bath up to your neck creates physical pressure on the blood vessels, increases the hearts capacity and is equivalent to a light workout. 

Lowers blood pressure. Great system to use for those with heart conditions, but check with your doctor first as it may increase your heartrate. Lowers blood sugar. Bathing can not only lower your blood sugar levels but burn calories too. Great news for those who don’t like exercising. You would have to double the time spent in the bath as an hour’s bath equates to half an hour’s walking. Same amount of calories burnt and same levels of blood sugar lowered.  Cleaner, healthier skin. A good soak opens up the pores in our skin, washing away toxins and dirt, leaving us cleaner and fresher. Moisturizes our skin.  The warm water leaves the skin moist for longer and helps the absorption of moisturisers and bath oils.

Helps relieve cold/flu symptoms.The steam from a  hot shower or bath also acts as a natural decongestant to relieve cold symptoms. The heat helps to aid your recovery.  Reduces headaches. Alleviating the pressure and constriction on our bloodvessels works effectively on most kinds of headaches. Helps us feel better about ourselves. When we feel better physically, we are  more confident and more capable of dealing with the challenges of life. Our daily hot bath or shower reduces our anxiety, tension, aching muscles and lets us feel well taken care of, enhancing our quality of life. @4

Good  Reasons for Drinking Hot Water.

Love starting your day with your usual coffee or hot cup of tea? Try starting it with a cup of hot water instead. Adding lemon or ginger and various herbs such as  peppermint and chamomile has many health benefits. Drinking it plain is so good for you too.

 Why drinking plain hot water is good for your health. It  Calms and Soothes the  Central Nervous System to Decrease Stress, relax you and give you pain relief from cramps and aches. Drink warm water throughout the day to help keep you calmer. Digestion - warm water flushes out toxins and cleanses the digestive tract, elimanating waste and aiding digestion. It breaks down hardened fats and oils that cause indigestion. Weight Loss - Just as much as hot baths and showers aid in weight loss and burning calories, drinking hot water will raise your body temperature, increase your metabolism and clear out waste and eliminate bloating. Hydration - Adding hot water to your daily hydration regime instead of having cold water only will give you all its benefits and help increase your daily water  intake. Relieves Nasal Congestion - Inhaling steam helps blocked nasal passages and sinuses.  It soothes sore throats and stops the tickling in the throat. I find it excellent for soothing coughs too. Blood Circulation - Try having a cup of hot water while relaxing in a hot bath. Both relax your muscles and helps with blood flow. You will enjoy an amazingly restful sleep after. Clear Skin - Hot water eliminates toxins from the body, helps to repair damaged skin cells, preventing  skin breakouts, dry skin and premature signs of aging. Hair Health and Growth  - Drinking plain hot water will keep you hair soft and shiny, accelarating hair growth. It helps to keep your scalp hydrated, dandruff free and moisturized. Replenishes vitamins and minerals post workout while aiding rehydration.   No matter what your heating preference, whether you enjoy steam, bath or shower or whatever your favourite cuppa is, hot water is essential to our health, wellbeing and prosperity.  Never be without it.

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[sayitwithsarcophilus]

Snippets from my newest original project

Misty Mountains Forest Preserve, Pekarangan, 18 Scorpii System

Olivia woke up to a little wet nose poking her in the face and immediately wished she hadn’t.  The morning sun stabbed through her closed eyelids - which Olivia considered particularly unfair since she’d been unsettlingly sober for the past three days and was in the middle of a damned cloud forest - and brought the banked fires of her headache roaring to life.  And her mouth tasted like wakebark tea and ketosis.  

Olivia felt the weight on her chest rearrange itself, and a little clawed paw batted at the mosquito netting covering her face.  “All right, all right, Mommy’s getting up.”  First step: feed the whiny space-fox-dog before he wasted away to a little pile of fur and bleached bones as a reproach to her neglectful pet care.  Correction: first step: untangle herself from the cocoon of blankets, mosquito netting, and water-resistant tarps that she slept in without falling out of her hammock and crash-landing on the forest floor.  Second step: feed Gonif.  Third step: evict any local minifauna using her boots as a crash pad.  Fourth step: rehydrate, dumbass.  What kind of amateur dies of thirst in the middle of the jungle?

After feeding Gonif, there was just enough water left in the filter-bottles to brush her teeth, and the keg bromeliads next to her campsite hadn’t refilled yet, so Olivia set off find a new source.  Bromeliads and pitcher plants of various sorts were common in this part of the jungle, but most of them weren’t big enough to be worthwhile and the ones that were had something living in them.  Olivia had no idea if unfiltered space pollywog pee was dangerous to humans, but she had enough to investigate at present without pursuing that particular angle.  It all went straight into the filter bottles.  Gonif had no such reservations, but Olivia figured that consuming gross stuff was par for the course for dogs in any star system.

Olivia was a little over five minutes from her campsite and had yet to encounter any plants carrying more water than would fill a martini glass when she ran into - almost literally - a stand of swordleaf bamboo with plenty of juicy young canes.  She approached the bamboo carefully - the stiff mature leaves hung at just the right height to stab her in the face - took out her knife and a water bottle, and started tapping.  Swordleaf bamboo sap may have had the texture of unset jello and tasted like oversteeped lukewarm green tea, but it was dreadfully hydrating, reasonably germ-free, and in a wet season you could fill a shot glass in a minute.  Olivia had no idea why you would want a shot glass of bamboo sap, but apparently people back on Earth did shots of sprouted wheat juice nowadays.  

While the sap was dripping, Olivia played a half-hearted game of fetch with Gonif and swatted at the bugs.  Damn, they were thick this morning.  Oh, right, she’d gone straight out for water and forgot to put on bug repellant.  Olivia dug out the jar of citronetta lotion she’d picked up in the last Hamadryad village and rubbed the lemony-herbal smelling goop over her exposed skin.  There.  Much better.

Drinking swordleaf sap always made Olivia wish for a splash of gin and a lime wedge, or at least some seltzer to cut the sliminess, but after she’d choked down half a liter of the stuff she felt, if not exactly good, then at least reconciled with her continued corporeality.  Time to acquire some breakfast and plan the day’s expeditions.  Tree Octopuses hadn’t been documented this far north, but the local microclimate was just what they liked, and Olivia had seen some promising-looking potential den sites and what might have been a midden yesterday.  And if the octopus hunt didn’t pan out, she had some epiphyte specimens that needed closer examination, or-

The chattering jungle creatures went silent, and Gonif began growling at something behind her.

-Or maybe not.  Olivia turned around, with her hand on her pruning knife, and saw a lanky blue-and-brown-plumed Lianenshi in vaguely official-looking clothes approach with her burly green bodyguard.

“Doctor Olivia Green, I presume,” the alien asked, in Lianen.

“Who’s asking?”

“I wish you to come with us and answer a few questions.”

“Yeah, well, I wish the Library of Alexandria had never been destroyed,” Olivia replied, in English.  The aliens had translator earpieces, they could damn well use them.  “You guys have a lot of nerve, just barging up and demanding to talk to me before I’ve had so much as a damn cup of tea.  Especially when you’ve got no jurisdiction, and we both know how much Hamadryads love off-world bureaucrats stomping around the woods like they own the place.  Who the hell are you, and why should I give you two the time of day instead of making a break for it and leaving you for the midges and forest rangers?”

“My associate and I represent the Interstellar Partnership For the Study of Anomalous Astrogeology and Physical Cosmology.”  The bodyguard showed Olivia an ID badge that looked legit to her admittedly unpracticed eye.  “We have questions about Cykranosh.”

“Don’t we all,” Olivia muttered.  “Sure, I’ll talk to you, but not here.  Let’s go somewhere we can sit down first.”  

“That guy was way too white to be wearing dreads,” Skylar whispered to Dionaea, gesturing at the helicopter they’d all just exited.

Dio didn’t even try to suppress her sigh.  “Skylar, he’s green.”  Their helicopter pilot was the color of a fresh spearmint leaf, with a hint of rosy flush like a very ripe Granny Smith apple.  And freckles.  And big golden-green cat eyes and biceps the size of… stoppit, brain!  “And I read online that loc-samurai-ponytail he’s got is a traditional hairstyle for Hamadryad sailors.  Traditional as in pre-contact.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Skylar conceded.  “But I don’t see any boats around here.”  “Here” was a spot of open meadow on the edge of the forest.  “And people in India used the swastika as a religious symbol for centuries before the Nazis got ahold of it.  That doesn’t mean it’s right for them to use it nowadays.”

“Do you even listen to yourself?” Dio asked, and then turned her attention back to her brochure from the Misty Mountains Park Service before Skylar could answer.

“All right, everyone!” Ms. Yuki called out.  “Put on your bug repellant, it’s midge season.  You don’t have to worry about getting space malaria or space yellow fever, but the itching isn’t fun.  Alex, Katie, Skylar, get some sun protection.  I know it doesn’t look that bright out, but some of those clouds are going to burn off by the afternoon, and this star puts out a little more UV than our own sun.”  Ms. Yuki herself was wearing an enormous floppy black hat that looked like something a beautiful, morally ambiguous young widow would wear to her late husband’s funeral.  “This is the last real plumbing for miles, so go pee and fill up your water bottles if you need to.”  Skylar cringed.  “And review the information about dangerous plants in your brochures.  I don’t want anybody rolling in the space poison ivy.  Everyone got that?”  The young people all nodded.  “Great!  We leave in five minutes.”

After a couple hours of walking, a snack break, and a brief musical interlude - “When You’re Evil” and “Death Death (Devil, Devil, Evil, Evil, Song)” turned out to be weirdly well-suited to wilderness singalongs, although Skylar tried to meld with the forest floor out of sheer embarrassment - the tame, parklike forest had turned to alien jungle.  The trail was still clear, and the crush of greenery was broken up by smaller game trails and the occasional fallen tree, but if Dionaea had been claustrophobic, the landscape would definitely have been getting to her.  

As it was, there was so much new stuff to see that it was hard to pick out specific subjects of interest.  Dio’s phone had a dozen new pictures of lichens and fungi alone and at least five for different kinds of mosses, never mind the big plants.  And she would have taken more if the lighting had been more consistent.

After another break to watch a wild tapir-sow and her babies cross the trail from a safe distance - because even Sam, Disney Princess that he was where animals were concerned, wasn’t about to risk spooking 500 pounds of muscle and tusks - the trees abruptly thinned out again and the hiking group found themselves looking into a little circular clearing.  Which was not uninhabited.

“-and I do think the planet is cursed,” a human voice said.  “Psychically, not physically.  Nothing practical went wrong that was out of the ordinary for operating in an alien environment, but there was a real emotional miasma over everything.  At first I thought it was just me - no sun, history of seasonal depression, you know how it goes - but Mi-go like it cold and dark and they felt it too.”  A different voice responded in a fluty alien language that Dio didn’t recognize.  

The clearing was occupied by three people sitting on a fallen log - a skinny old human lady wearing a local-style outfit accessorized with Earth-style hiking boots, aviator sunglasses, and a well-worn duster covered in grass stains; an unamused buff green person in futuristic tac gear who looked kind of like a Hamadryad and kind of like an orc; and a cross between a tropical bird, David Bowie, and a vintage shoujo manga character - plus one of the foxish-looking little indigenous dogs.  As soon as Dio stepped out from behind the trees, the little dog started barking its head off and the green person gave Dio their best “I have no problems with you - yet - but I could take you and your friends out without breaking a sweat, so don’t start none” look.  Dio nodded and held out her empty hands, which she really hoped wasn’t the equivalent of flipping someone off in space orc culture.

[katybudgetbooks]

YA Releases We’re Anticipating in July

The Disappearances by Emily Bain Murphy (7/4): A mesmerizing tale about a fifteen-year-old girl who moves to a town where every seven years there is a disappearance, and she must find a way to break the curse before it's too late.

Ash and Quill by Rachel Caine (7/11): The unforgettable characters from Ink and Bone and Paper and Fire unite to save the Great Library of Alexandria from itself in this electrifying adventure in the New York Times bestselling series.  Hoarding all the knowledge of the world, the Great Library jealously guards its secrets. But now a group of rebels poses a dangerous threat to its tyranny....  Jess Brightwell and his band of exiles have fled London, only to find themselves imprisoned in Philadelphia, a city led by those who would rather burn books than submit. But Jess and his friends have a bargaining chip: the knowledge to build a machine that will break the Library's rule.  Their time is running out. To survive, they'll have to choose to live or die as one, to take the fight to their enemies--and to save the very soul of the Great Library....

Because You Love to Hate Me edited by Ameriie (7/11): This edgy anthology teams up acclaimed YA authors and popular YouTubers to create 13 fairy tales and 13 inspired works--all from a "villain's" perspective, in the vein of Maleficent or Wicked.

Waste of Space by Gina Damico (7/11): From the author of Croak comes this raucous account of ten teenagers picked to live on a rocket ship, get shot into space, and have their adventures broadcast live to the entire world. Find out what happens when reality stops being reality, and everything goes inevitably, horribly wrong. 

The Last Magician by Lisa Maxwell (7/18): Stop the Magician. Steal the book. Save the future.  In modern day New York, magic is all but extinct. The remaining few who have an affinity for magic--the Mageus--live in the shadows, hiding who they are. Any Mageus who enters Manhattan becomes trapped by the Brink, a dark energy barrier that confines them to the island. Crossing it means losing their power--and often their lives.  Esta is a talented thief, and she's been raised to steal magical artifacts from the sinister Order that created the Brink. With her innate ability to manipulate time, Esta can pilfer from the past, collecting these artifacts before the Order even realizes she's there. And all of Esta's training has been for one final job: traveling back to 1902 to steal an ancient book containing the secrets of the Order--and the Brink--before the Magician can destroy it and doom the Mageus to a hopeless future.  But Old New York is a dangerous world ruled by ruthless gangs and secret societies, a world where the very air crackles with magic. Nothing is as it seems, including the Magician himself. And for Esta to save her future, she may have to betray everyone in the past.

Song of the Dark Crystal #2 by JM Lee (7/18): The second original companion novel to Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal follows Naia and Kylan as they seek help from the Gelfling clans to prevent the Skeksis from implementing the next stage of their sinister plan.  Kylan of Sami Thicket is a skilled song teller, but singing the tales of long-gone heroes won't help his friends as they journey into dangerous, unknown lands. After uncovering the betrayal of the Skeksis Lords, he and his friend Naia are on the run, pursued by the Skeksis's underlings and outcast even among their fellow Gelfling. But Kylan knows the truth must be told, no matter how difficult the telling. Maybe there's use for a song teller after all . . .  Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal is one of the most beloved and enduring fantasy stories of the past thirty years. This series of young adult novels will both please the diehard fans and bring new fans in to the world of The Dark Crystal.

16 Ways to Break a Heart by Lauren Strasnick (7/25): Unfolding through letters, texts, and chats, Lauren Strasnick's smart, sexy, page-turning new novel is the ultimate he said/she said breakdown of a relationship gone wrong.Natalie and Dan were electric from the moment they met. Witty banter and sizzling chemistry made falling in love easy--even inevitable. He was in awe of her subversive art and contagious zest for life; she was drawn to his good-guy charm and drive to succeed as a documentary filmmaker. But that was before. Before hot tempers turned to blowout fights. Before a few little lies turned to broken trust. Before a hundred tiny slights broke them open and exposed the ugly truth of their relationship. And now Natalie wants Dan to know just how much he broke her. Over the course of one fateful day, Dan reads sixteen letters that Natalie has secretly, brilliantly hidden in places only he will find. And as he pieces together her version of their love story, he realizes that she has one final message for him. One that might just send his carefully constructed life tumbling down.

Buried Heart by Kate Elliott (7/25): In this third book in the epic Court of Fives series, Jessamy is the crux of a revolution forged by the Commoner class hoping to overthrow their longtime Patron overlords. But enemies from foreign lands have attacked the kingdom, and Jes must find a way to unite the Commoners and Patrons to defend their home and all the people she loves. Will her status as a prominent champion athlete be enough to bring together those who have despised one another since long before her birth? Will she be able to keep her family out of the clutches of the evil Lord Gargaron? And will her relationship with Prince Kalliarkos remain strong when they find themselves on opposite sides of a war? Find all the answers in this beautifully written and exciting conclusion to World Fantasy Award finalist Kate Elliott's debut New York Times bestselling young adult trilogy!

Daughter of the Burning City by Amanda Foody (7/25): A darkly irresistible new fantasy set in the infamous Gomorrah Festival, a traveling carnival of debauchery that caters to the strangest of dreams and desires. Sixteen-year-old Sorina has spent most of her life within the smoldering borders of the Gomorrah Festival. Yet even among the many unusual members of the traveling circus-city, Sorina stands apart as the only illusion-worker born in hundreds of years. This rare talent allows her to create illusions that others can see, feel and touch, with personalities all their own. Her creations are her family, and together they make up the cast of the Festival's Freak Show.But no matter how lifelike they may seem, her illusions are still just that--illusions, and not truly real. Or so she always believed...until one of them is murdered.Desperate to protect her family, Sorina must track down the culprit and determine how they killed a person who doesn't actually exist. Her search for answers leads her to the self-proclaimed gossip-worker Luca. Their investigation sends them through a haze of political turmoil and forbidden romance, and into the most sinister corners of the Festival. But as the killer continues murdering Sorina's illusions one by one, she must unravel the horrifying truth before all her loved ones disappear...

Lucky in Love by Kasie West (7/25): Maddie's not impulsive. She's all about hard work and planning ahead. But one night, on a whim, she buys a lottery ticket. And then, to her astonishment --  She wins!  In a flash, Maddie's life is unrecognizable. No more stressing about college scholarships. Suddenly, she's talking about renting a yacht. And being in the spotlight at school is fun... until rumors start flying, and random people ask her for loans. Now, Maddie isn't sure who she can trust. Except for Seth Nguyen, her funny, charming coworker at the local zoo. Seth doesn't seem aware of Maddie's big news. And, for some reason, she doesn't want to tell him. But what will happen if he learns her secret?  With tons of humor and heart, Kasie West delivers a million-dollar tale of winning, losing, and falling in love.

[rosalind-of-arden]

Ink and Bone Reread Chapters 12-13

Hunting for interesting bits involving Morgan, Wolfe, Santi, worldbuilding, and whatever else catches my eye.

This is the fucking train of male nudity. So far, we’ve had Jess in the shower, Jess’s robe falling open, Wolfe and Santi half-naked, and now here’s Dario shirtless. And Jess wants to hit Dario very hard while Dario is shirtless. Boys, boys.

Santi requests backup troops specifically from “the nearest available base with a commander I can trust.” Sounds simple enough, but there has to be a fair bit of planning behind this. Now I don’t know how much information about local High Garda commanders Santi could pull up from the Codex in this sort of situation. Maybe he looked up who was nearby. Maybe he had to research this ahead of time, knowing the train route and finding out what allies might be along that route in case he needed them. Either way, Santi has connections going through the High Garda not only in Alexandria, but also in France, at least. At a bare minimum, he knows enough about French High Garda commanders to know by reputation who he can trust. I get the feeling that this is a thing Santi has thought about quite a lot, and wherever he and Wolfe go, he has a “what if the Artifex tries to kill Wolfe” plan including potential allies.

Wolfe and Jess running into the burning train together to rescue Morgan. Jess is an idiot teenager in love, but Wolfe knows exactly what he’s getting into. Notice that Wolfe doesn’t seem all that surprised to learn that Morgan is alive: he accepts the news very quickly. More relieved than surprised, I’d say. It’s probably a possibility he considered. Interesting parallel here to how he reacts to the news that Thomas is alive: he suspected, he didn’t think he could do anything about it, but the minute he can do something, he’s jumping right in.

Wolfe knows where to find that mask. Again, seems like he’s pretty familiar with this train.

Dammit Jess, quit being so disoriented and obsessed with Morgan and not seeing how Wolfe got out of the train. Santi carries Morgan out and Thomas carries Glain. Dario and Khalila have no serious injuries and get themselves out. So did Wolfe wake up long enough to drag himself out of there and then pass out again? Did one of those unnamed and vaguely numbered soldiers help him? It would be very interesting for Santi to leave Wolfe there and take care of Morgan first.

Wolfe and Santi, bane of Medicas everywhere.

Jess missed another conversation between Wolfe and Morgan, in which Wolfe told Morgan about the rescue.

Ugh, missed this when I was doing the timeline: “It was a pretty blue-sky day outside, with a crisp turn of autumn in the air.” Argh. The time gaps are vague enough in this book that it could totally be fall here. November, probably? Maybe very early December? But then this throws off the other books. If it’s November here, it’s May, June at the latest in Paper and Fire, but then it’s fucking fall in Ash and Quill, and I have no fucking clue how that works. Time to go play with the timeline.

Santi has once again arranged for them to go with a High Garda commander he trusts. Really thinking he has put some time and effort into figuring these things out.

Wolfe hasn’t been wearing Scholar’s robes “for some time.” Is that just the 6 days in France? It didn’t really say what he was wearing in Oxford, maybe the same gold coats the students wore? I’m assuming it would be that or Scholar’s robes at the train station since he was on duty as a Scholar there. So why is Wolfe skipping the robes here? My theory is he and Santi were considering running away and leaving the Library, maybe even bringing Morgan with them (other students who might be considered at risk as well?) I can see either one of them being the one to suggest leaving, and either one being the one to decide to stay; it could be something they both felt conflicted on.

Wolfe also describes the class as “a year’s class”, but I will ignore that for timeline purposes, as it does not necessarily indicate that the class would occur over a full year (I don’t think we can push the time gaps quite that far). Even if the class was supposed to last a year, there’s no reason to think that this terribly irregular class did.

Morgan and Jess are the last ones to join in the students’ show of gratitude and respect for Wolfe. Does Morgan have the tracker back on at this point? The timing isn’t clear on that: Jess wonders if she has one while he’s still in the Medica tent, but it isn’t confirmed that one is on her until dinner later.

Wolfe and Santi are guarding Morgan closely here, but it doesn’t seem like they were before, during the 6 days of Jess and friends hanging out and playing chess.

Drunk Wolfe! He’s on his third bottle and Santi still doesn’t start looking worried until he starts making anti-Library comments. This is definitely an unhealthy coping mechanism Santi is used to dealing with.

“as it broke ours years ago.” Is Wolfe just talking about Rome here? It’s been around 2 - 2 1/2 years at this point since he was arrested. Or does he mean other things also?

“If you don’t care about your future, think of theirs. Think of mine.” This is probably a reminder to Wolfe of how their discussion of running away ended, and also a reminder of fights they’ve had about Morgan and the other students. Going back to Alexandria means Wolfe is making himself completely dependent on Santi to maintain good enough standing with the Library to keep them both safe. Possibly financially dependent as well, unless gold band Scholars get paid even when they aren’t working. They’re putting everything on Santi’s career in the High Garda, and that’s got to be tough for both of them.

“We’ve all got scars. Don’t show them here.” Hey, it’s a line that could possibly refer to Santi being tortured when he looked for Wolfe. Yes, yes, among about a million other things. Also, here’s another case of Santi encouraging one of Wolfe’s unhealthy coping mechanisms: Wolfe suppresses memories and feelings related to Rome, and here he was potentially starting to open up and talk about it. Sure, he was drunk and doing it in a terrible context, and from a strategic and survival perspective, Santi absolutely could not let Wolfe keep talking here. But still, another case of their bad habits feeding off each other in the absence of better options.

Morgan’s tracker was “double-locked by an Obscurist.” Where did they find an Obscurist to do that? Can it be done remotely? Wolfe: Dear Mom, Fine, you win, you can have my student. If you can keep her from taking this tracker off, that is. Are they lying about this?

We’re down to 5 soldiers out of an unknown number who went into Oxford (Jess saw 80 when they got to England, 12 died in Oxford, Jess observed not many were left, now only 5). We’re looking at potentially a lot of deaths among people Santi cares about and feels responsible for. He may be used to this sort of thing considering his 20+ years in the military, but still.

Santi is awfully angry when he confronts Jess about Morgan. Jess thinks Santi is drunk here, but we already saw that Santi didn’t have a lot of wine with dinner. Two possibilities: He’s not drunk, he’s just that upset, or whatever conversation he had with Wolfe after they left, or after they got the message about Morgan, inspired a lot of drinking.

Wolfe and Santi were going to let Morgan get away. They set up the opportunity for her very well, really. Put on a show of watching her and reminding her about the tracker, conveniently not be there when she gets away. Have the troops ordered to catch her, but not necessarily placed to actually succeed.

Santi thinks Morgan has no journal because her father is a Burner, but he’s wrong. She had one back in Alexandria, which she was probably writing very carefully in. The real reason she doesn’t have one is presumably that she can see the mirroring scripts.

“They can do anything they like. To anyone.” Hey, look, another line that could be about Santi’s torture. Yes, and lots of other things too.

Santi interrupts Jess and Morgan kissing to arrest Morgan. Revenge for their cockblocking on the train?

Glain has been chatting with Wolfe and Santi about Jess and Morgan. Why must Jess miss all the good conversations?

Here’s the Obscurist stabbing Thomas in the back to advance her own schemes. Risking Wolfe, too. Mother of the year material right here, I’m telling you.