#at the same time demanding above and beyond entertainment for free is simply ridiculous

[lily-liegh]

So lately I’ve seen several posts about how expensive conventions have become and how this is limiting attendance rates bc fans simply can’t afford to go. And that’s valid bc conventions should be accessible to people and you shouldn’t have to starve all weekend just so you can go to a con and maybe buy two pins. There’s something wrong with that.

But there’s also something wrong with people arguing that conventions should have dirt-cheap prices or even be free. And I think people just don’t realise how expensive it is to run a convention. (Time-consuming is another fact altogether, but not a part of this post).

Conventions are expensive to run. As someone who have helped run a con for several years, including participating on the financial committee, conventions occur massive costs. And it’s not necessarily the fault of con-goers to know a con’s budget and expenses, but dismissing ticket prices because “cons just want your money and don’t care about fans” puts a lot of shade on many conventions that have higher ticket prices because of what they are offering.

So let’s run through some expenses a typical convention might have.

Primary costs:

The venue itself. Con staff must take into account the size of their convention and whether the venue will accommodate this attendance. The larger the convention, the larger the venue - you may even need multiple venues. You’ll also need to consider location - is this accessible to your general population (near public transit)? 

Printing costs. Tickets, event schedules, posters, advertising - that all costs money to print, and depending on the size of the event and attendance, you might need to print several thousand, hundred thousand, or even a million copies so as not to run out. 

Advertising. You can advertise for free on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, but you’re also probably going to put up flyers around the city - and that’s not always free to do. If you’re advertising outside of the city too, you might be paying for transport to get out and advertise. For larger conventions, billboards and larger signage are often rented and have a monthly/yearly fee. And a website. And upkeep for the website. 

Security. The more people you have gathered in a place, the likelihood something is going to go wrong. For smaller conventions, you might just need a couple designated people to make sure attendees are treating themselves, each other, and the venue respectfully. If you’re convention has 50,000 or more people, you’ll probably need to hire security. Bad stuff happens.

Moving/storage. You won’t have the venue for the entire year, so likely you’ll need to transport all your equipment (tables, chairs, indoor/outdoor advertising, etc.) to the venue. You’ll also need a place to store the equipment for the rest of the year.

Entertainment costs:

Guests. For many conventions, this is one of the largest expenses simply because guests are not cheap and you are hosting them. You are paying for them to come to your city, visit your convention, and host panels. Thus, you are paying for every aspect of their trip. Therefore, this includes:

Hotel. If you want to make a good impression to your guest, you get them a nice hotel close to your convention. Depending on where you con is located, this could be quite pricey.

Food/drink. Again, you’ll be taking them for dinners, as what convention has time to cook their guests meals, and you should not expect guests to cook (and many hotels don’t have kitchens).

Travel. If you couldn’t find a hotel close by, you’ll probably be driving your guests to and from the convention.

Entertainment/leisure. In most cases, guests don’t stay at the con for the entire duration. They need breaks and leisure - and as their hosts, you’ll likely take them around to attractions in your city. This won’t always be a large expense, but it’s nonetheless a factor con staff must consider - and if you have multiple guests, how will you be entertaining all of them?

Sound/lighting. For every panel you go to, there are probably hundreds of wires, lights, speakers, projectors, and other equipment needed to make the panel run without a hitch. Some cons have all this equipment; others don’t, in which case you’ll need to buy/rent it. That shit’s expensive.

Giveaways. Often cons give away prizes at special ceremonies. In some cases, these items can be gifted to the con and regifted to attendees. In many more cases, the conventions purchase these prizes out of their pocket.

And many more costs, and sometimes budgeting for large expenses the convention might save up for (a large display, powerful cleaners because you often have to clean the venue spotless after the con).

Conventions are expensive.

There are ways to save money, such as not putting years on your advertising and merchandise (that way you can use it for multiple years); inviting local talented guests who would already have food/boarding and do not need to be flown halfway across the country/world; and seeking prizes and donations from local game and fan shops in exchange for perhaps giving them a table in your Artist and Vendor Alley and some free advertising.

But even with saving money, you won’t get a cheap or free convention if you expect that very same convention to host multiple guests, including overseas guests; have a large-scale event spanning multiple venues; have prizes, raffles, and other such attractions; and run seamlessly and efficiently on a shoestring budget.

Yes, not all cons price their conventions effectively. Some are for-profit and cashing in on your interest.

But many more cons are not-for-profit, locally run, and/or trying to provide you what you want while also considering what they can actually afford. 

And without decently-priced ticket prices, the convention’s largest revenue, cons can’t give you shit.

[scenariosbutmakeitgay]

Shibisu x Female Reader? Feel free to come up with the plot :)

it’s basically the little mermaid au, but even darker than the original fairytale

also that’s literally the longest fic on this blog lol

tw: death, violence, gore-ish theme

-

There once was a kingdom placed deep under the sea, where no human could reach. The kingdom was full of different creatures – starting with fish, and ending with mermaids. You happened to be the representative of the latter, one of king Jahad's many children to be more precise. Of course, the royal family wasn't the only one out there. Except from Jahad's offsprings, there were ten more names you could hear about quite frequently. The Ten Great Families, as some called them. You rarely bothered to spend time with other mermaids. Living under the sea, as beautifully poetic as it could be sometimes, became dull quite quickly. King Jahad prohibited his children from going near the surface – as if he was scared they might not want to come back. By the time you reached your eighteenth birthday, Jahad's overprotectiveness began to feel even more suffocating.

“I'm not sure what I expected to happen,” you murmured to yourself one night, when everyone was already asleep. “That he's going to change? It's ridiculous.”

Your father, as loving as he could be, was a man deeply stuck in his ways. If he said that you're not allowed to see the world above the surface, then that's it, and you shouldn't even try to argue. But the fact that despite your adulthood, he still treated you like a child, made you reach your boiling point. Tonight was the time of grunt changes, so you slipped out of your room, and checked if the hallway outside was empty. Not a single soul.

With each feet closer to the surface, the water became warmer, and the sounds of terrified screams intensified. You've finally reached your destination, and as lightning bolts pierced the sky, and cold air hit your face, everything became more alive. Suddenly, you heard a loud splash as an unconscious body of a man fell into the sea. An unknown urge overcame your senses, and before you could even notice, you caught the man into your arms. He wasn't that heavy, so carrying him to the shore didn't make much of a challenge. You placed his body on the sand, and moved long strands of dark hair out of his face.

You put your hand on his chest, and sighed in relief upon feeling a heartbeat. “That would be a dreadful night to die, wouldn't it?”

Predictably, no answer came. You looked at the man for the last time, and dived into the sea with no sense of where to go. Coming back to the castle was not an option, you would die out of boredom if you had to spend one more day at this place. That being said, there was only one option left. As a kid, your father always warned you to never wander alone outside his kingdom.

“I love spoiling you, my child, yet there are places under the sea you shall never visit,” he stated in a cold, demanding manner. “The castle and gardens surrounding it grant you safety. There are vicious creatures out there, and I cannot let them lay a finger on you.”

The kingdom was like a golden cage. It provided you with everything but freedom, which you craved the most. So you chose the path your father despised the most – the one leading to the caves where the Red Witch lived. Water there was muddy, almost impossible to see through. You swam with difficulty, determined to see the witch.

“I see you've finally found your path, daughter of Jahad.”

At first, you couldn't find the source of the voice. The woman was dressed in black and red, making her almost indistinguishable from the colored alike corals. One of her eyes, equally crimson to her hair, was hidden under an eye patch. Throughout your whole life you have heard different stories about the Red Witch and her appearance. Most of them described her as an old, ugly woman, which didn't hold much truth to it. There was one consistency in each and every story – the Red Witch was supposed to grant wishes.

“I've heard you can fulfill the deepest desires one dreams of. Is it true, witch?” you asked, trying to sound as confident as possible, while remaining to stay aware of your surroundings. As your father said, the kingdom meant safety. And you were outside it.

“Ah, yes, of course,” she replied with a barely noticeable smirk on her face. “But that craving of yours, little mermaid, comes with a price to pay.”

“I'll pay every price!” you exclaimed without much thinking, which only made the Red Witch snicker.

“Quite an eager one, aren't you?” she mocked. “With each royal generation that comes there's always someone like you. Incredibly foolish, and a little too curious for their own good. It makes everything even more entertaining, though.” The smile on her face widened, as she came up with an exciting idea. “We shall make a deal, princess. Your kind prides itself for their angelic voices, isn't that so? With each tongue you rip out of a mermaid's mouth, you will receive a human body for a day. When the slaughter ends, you shall fall asleep on the shore. I will grant you a pair of legs, princess. There is one more condition to our deal, I must say. When the pendulum of your human time stops swinging, and no man, woman, or any other human being loves you madly, your whole existence shall perish, and become a mere foam. Are you still interested in making your desires come true, Jahad's child?”

Your eyes widened in shock at the Red Witch's offer. It was violent, it was deadly, it was simply wrong! But you craved a pair of legs so madly, deeply, beyond any rational sense.

“I accept your conditions, Red Witch. Expect a silent morning, for I will rip out the tongue of each and every mermaid daring to sing in my presence.”

And your promise was kept. The witch gave you a silver dagger, with blade so sharp it could cut through flesh with almost no resistance. When the morning came, the whole kingdom remained deadly silent. You brought your gift to the Red Witch, and a bloody trail marked the path of your choice.

“I've done what I was compelled to do, witch. What now?” you asked, observing as the woman in front of you carefully counted the tongues. When she made sure what was the number of them, a wide grin appeared on her face.

“Your viciousness granted you a month as a human,” the Red Witch replied. She reached to grab a bottle of scarlet liquid, previously hidden behind one of the corals. “Swim to the shore, and drink it up. Beware, daughter of Jahad. The potion might give you legs, but they will come with great pain.”

Not caring about the warning, you grabbed the bottle from her hand, and swam away as quickly as possible. The shore wasn't that far away – with your current speed it took you barely a quarter of an hour to get there. You sat on the shore, feeling the warmth of the sand on your skin. It was way more pleasant than even the clearest waters in the sea. You opened up the bottle, and drank up the liquid without much hesitance. With the last drop of scarlet, the whole world went dark. A throbbing pain filled your whole body as you desperately grasped for air. You saw them... You saw their faces... They were twisted, convulsions filling their last moves as you ripped their tongues out. The disdainful glances they sent you... You weren't really surprised. Mutilating plenty innocent beings of your own kind was one of the worst crimes to commit – it made you understand the true price of your wish. The curse of the little mermaid shall make you feel the pain of your victims, with each tongue that you ripped out feeling as your own.

Suddenly, the darkness began to fade. The ground underneath your body didn't feel familiar – it was too silky for the sand you previously passed out on. The fabric felt quite similar like bedsheets in your room in the castle. How appalling. The chamber you were in was decorated with wooden furniture, full of ornaments, and quite pleasant to the eye. As you admired the interior design, the mahogany door moved with a creak. A tall man with short hair walked in.

“Oh, I see you're already awake. How are you feeling?” he asked, and placed a beverage on the cupboard next to the bed. It looked like some kind of tea, though you couldn't be sure.

“I-” you tried to reply, but a wave of intense pain hit your throat as you spoke. It felt as if someone was ripping your tongue out. “I'm f-fine,” you finally managed to blurt out. It was excruciating, numbing, and absolutely well-deserved.

The man smiled. “I'm glad. I will explain everything once you rest properly,” he said, and passed the beverage to your hands. It was hot, but not burning. Perfect.

“Oh, also, the prince wanted to talk to you. It has something to do with the place we found you at.”

The prince?

You assumed one of the members of the royal entourage must have found you on the shore. Apparently a princess can never escape from the palace.

Suddenly, a look of realization showed on the man's face, as if he remembered something important. “Please excuse me now, I must attend the rest of my duties. If you ever need any help or simply someone to talk to, ask the guards for Shibisu. They'll certainly find me.”

You nodded, and gave him a thankful smile. When Shibisu, or whatever his name was, left the room, you decided to try out your legs for the very first time. It was a weird feeling for someone who spent their whole life with a fishtail, but not weird enough to be uncomfortable. After all, humans were bizarre creatures – their anatomy had to be on an equal level of eeriness.

A deep breath, and there we go. Your right leg carefully slid off the bed to touch the floor. It was cold. The left one followed right after. Okay, it shouldn't be hard. One leg, two legs, and up!

Your posture was everything but graceful, but at least you didn't stumble. Sole standing won't do, though. You had to learn how to walk. Using the same method – one foot, two feet, and go – your legs made a few small steps. Swimming was way easier, and you felt as if your body was heavier now. As you walked from one corner of the room to another, you noticed a small piece of paper left on the table near the door. It was a note, and whoever put it there, had an incredibly neat handwriting.

“Hello,

I'd like to apologize for contacting you in such an indirect manner, but it was quite hard to guess when you would wake up. There are some spare cloths left by the maids in the closet, so feel free to change into whatever's to your liking. I'd appreciate if we could have a little chat.

Sincerely, Jue Viole Grace.”

That must be the prince the man from before talked about. Maybe he'll clear everything up, and tell you who exactly brought you to the palace. It was a little naive to judge him based on a few sentences, but the prince seemed like a generally kind person, which you considered a rarity among the nobles.

You opened the closet, and picked out a simple dress. It was pretty, but nothing extraordinary. The next step was fixing your appearance to look presentable, because let's be real – passing out, and being unconscious for who knows how long didn't do your face any justice.

One step, two steps, open the door, and walk out. It was simple. You saw the guards as soon as you left the room.

“Prince Viole is waiting for you, miss. Follow me.”

You didn't ask any questions – it was awfully painful to speak, after all. The guard walked through some hallways, corridors, and different rooms to finally get outside the palace. You were in the royal gardens. They didn't look like those king Jahad owned. The gardens above the surface were more colorful, and you could almost feel their liveliness filling your soul with happiness. The prince was sitting on a chair, sipping a cup of tea. He placed his drink on the glass table in front of him as he saw you. Suddenly, you widened your eyes in bewilderment. Prince Viole was the exact same man you saved from drowning just a while ago. You tried to regain your composure, and walked over to him, greeting the nobleman with the kindest smile you could muster.

“It's nice to see you're finally awake. Please take a seat,” the prince said, and patted on the chair next to him. “Are you feeling any better now? You've slept for quite some time.”

You sat down, and cleared your throat. “Yes, I think I'm certainly better now. Thank you for helping me, Your Highness.” It was smarter to play it polite – despite seemingly friendly behavior of the prince, you didn't know what kind of person he was.

“Just Viole is fine, believe me,” he reassured you. “I'm not the right person to thank, though. It was Shibisu who found you on the shore. Surely you two must have already met.”

You nodded, and made a mental note to bring up the topic when you see the man again. The prin... no, not prince. Just  Viole took another sip of tea, and looked you straight in the eyes.

“Do you have any family? I don't want to keep you here against your will if someone's waiting for you to come back.”

The memories of your father and siblings sent shivers down your spine. You wanted them to scream at you for your selfishness, or even yell how disgusting you were. But they couldn't. No matter how many times you tried, they wouldn't answer your prayers. The sea remained deadly silent.

“N-no, I don't have anyone,” you stuttered, trying to sound as convincing as you could.

Viole gave you an understanding smile. “Feel free to stay at the palace as long as you like, then.”

A nod. That's exactly what you did. When your little chat with Viole came to an end, you decided to come back to your room. The palace was surprisingly quiet, even though you could swear you saw plenty of people there earlier. As you walked into another hallway, you felt someone bumping into you. Not hard enough to make you fall, but equally unpleasant.

“Sorry, didn't notice you!” a quick apology left the lips of a man you were already familiar with. Shibisu.

“No, it's my fault. I should have been more careful.” Getting used to the pain took less time than expected, yet the urge to cry in agony with every word spoken didn't disappear.

“Were you heading anywhere in particular? It's quite easy to lose a sense of direction in such a big place.”

“Actually, I planned to go back to my room. Could you show me the right way? I admit I'm a little lost,” you replied.

“Sure thing, miss. You're the lucky one today, because I know the castle better than anyone else,” he said with a cheeky grin. How charming.

With each passing day the clock's clicking became louder, and louder. Your days were numbered, and you were painfully aware of it.

When the pendulum of your human time stops swinging, and no man, woman, or any other human being loves you madly, your whole existence shall perish, and become a mere foam. Are you still interested in making your desires come true, Jahad's child?

The Red Witch was right about one thing – you were incredibly foolish. It was supposed to be a fairytale! A mermaid princess falls in love with a human prince, so she exchanges her tail for legs to be with him, and they live happily ever after. But you? You had no interest in the prince. The person you grew attached to was the man who found you on the shore, and has been taking care of you ever since. An excuse of a princess fell in love with a dorky servant, who doesn't even know the crime that stains her past. What a pitiful fairytale that would be. Not only you were sure that your feelings were one-sided, but your human body wasn't meant to last much longer.

Since your life was close to its end you took one more selfish choice – to spend more time with Shibisu. You shared meals, breaks, and sometimes went on walks together. He was quite a storyteller. You knew that he served the Grace family for over ten years now, and Viole himself considered him a close friend. Shibisu, despite his usual jokerish behavior, was actually a really intelligent person. He also had a sweet tooth, cared deeply for his friends, and liked saying that his favorite color was the one of your eyes.

Tick. Tack.

Tick. Tack.

Tick. Tack.

Your last day was about to end.

“Please, it can't be like this,” you whispered a quiet prayer that no god could ever hear. It was an ironically similar scenario to the one that began your journey.

“I'm not sure what I expected to happen,” you murmured to yourself one night, when everyone was already asleep. “That he's going to change? It's ridiculous.”

A bitter smile formed on your lips as tears began to fall. The palace was deadly silent – just like the morning after the slaughter. You slipped out of your room once more, and tip toed to the kitchen to find a knife. It was sharp, and made of silver – just like the dagger the Red Witch gave you a month ago. All you needed was just a few hours more, maybe even minutes!

Tick. Tack.

Tick. Tack.

Tick. Tack.

Cold breeze hit your face as you came to the shore. The shore that let you fulfill your curse, and the shore that Shibisu found you at.

With each tongue you rip out of a mermaid's mouth, you will receive a human body for a day.

Even with human body, you still possessed the blood of a mermaid, right? Right?! The knife was cold against your skin, slowly coming near your face. The shore was empty. None but you could see the viciousness of the act that was about to happen.

One cut, two cuts, blood filling everything. It was an atrocious sight. You ripped out the piece of flesh like the tongues before, and threw it into the sea. The shore was silent. Just one more day, please.

Suddenly, you heard a scream. It was Shibisu.

“What are you even doing?!”

The shore was neither empty, nor silent now. You wanted to speak, you wanted to yell, you wanted to confess your love for the man in front of you. But the only sound that left your mouth was a cough as blood started to stream down your throat to choke you.

“Y-you...” he stuttered. “You're bleeding.”

You fell down to your knees convulsing. With the last amount of strength left in your body, you started writing on the sand with your finger. The message was simple.

I love you.

His eyes widened both in shock and horror. Your state was getting worse with each second. Shibisu leant over your body, clearly panicking.

“I love you, too! You can't leave me, you heard me?! You can't!”

The night was a stormy one, but no lightning could be louder than your heartbeat. The Red Witch was right once again. Your body didn't perish, because only a madman could break the curse. As your lips touched his, the world around you fell silent. Blood staining both bodies, as if it was an agreement to never mention the crime that caused it all. The night was a stormy one. And not a single soul noticed as the wild waves of the sea consumed both of the lovers, staining the water with crimson foam. Maybe not every fairytale had to end happily.

[count-demonlord-of-decadence]

THE NEW GIRL (She’s a Natural)

Ishtar Knoxville sat on the walkway one floor above and perpendicular to her family's three bedroom condo. Here she could observe her family's comings and goings discreetly. Not that her family took any notice of her except for when she was in trouble. But she learned early that the lack of attention provided ample opportunities to observe and learn. Ishtar wasn't like the other girls that attended her public high school. All they cared about was clothes, Instagram likes and what kind of cars people drove. When Ishtar was seven, her little brother Giuseppe Jr was born, erasing any presence she had in the family. Her school life was painfully ordinary until middle school when her friends wanted to act all grown. They were suddenly immersed in makeup, boys and social media. Ishtar tried to keep up but her “friends” quickly made it clear she was cramping their style. Ishtar rejected the conformist matriarchy her ”friends” embraced and they made her an object of mockery and ridicule. Ishtar took refuge in the school library, the last place any “cool kid” would be seen.

The last day before winter break of her seventh grade year, Ishtar was exploring a box of used books donated to the school when she discovered a copy of Justine by Marquis de Sade. The librarian told her it was inappropriate for school but didn't mind if she took it home. She read the whole book that very night. She was enamored with the philosophy, violence and sex. For the first time in her life she saw a world free from the superficial bullshit and embraced a life devoted to the pursuit of pleasure. Of course at age 11 her pleasures consisted of reading, candy and masturbation. And read she did. By her first day of high school she'd read every book deemed pornographic and subversive she could download. Her parents were all too happy to get her gift cards as gifts because it was relatively inexpensive and readily available. When her family asked what she was reading she just responded with the current most popular young adult novel. She was packing a bowl of the low quality high priced weed 14 year old girls have to buy when a strange little man knocked on her family's door.

His facial features made him look like a rat, a rat wearing an expensive suit. He seemed out of place in a suit to Ishtar, more of a blue collar man. The cigarette he was smoking didn't seem out of place. Her father, Giuseppe opened the door recognized the man and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

“You outta your fucking mind coming here!?” He exclaimed in hushed tones, unaware that his voice echoed of the walls. “I got kids in there.”

“Oh sorry bother you at your home Giuseppe,” the French accent and added sarcasm made the man's voice slightly more pleasant than nails on a chalkboard, “But you don't return my calls, texts, e-mail or faxes.” Ishtar swallowed a chuckle at that line. “And we need to talk. We've gotten some complaints about your high prices. The Syndicate doesn't mind if you skim a little here and there but you've been marking up the prices and pocketing the difference. Other dealers do the same. And that was cool but now your prices are so high customers are thinking about going to other suppliers. Now the competition knows they could potentially corner the market by simply lowering their prices. Imma tell you the same thing I told the other guys,” he handed him a slip of paper “these are the new prices. Be a good boy and stick to them, or else.”

Giuseppe Knoxville being half black half Italian suffered no disrespect, especially from a man a foot shorter and 75 pounds lighter than himself. But it was the pat on the cheek that set Giuseppe off.  He grabbed the little man by the throat and balls, threatening to toss him over the rail snarling, “Who the fuck you think you are? Come to my house, disrespect me, in front of my kids! You fucking worm! You're just a goddamn go for! A fucking bell boy! I've taken shits with bigger balls than you! Don't ever come at me with no disrespect! Next time your candy ass will be flying to the ground floor!” Giuseppe released the man and stormed back into the condo. The man took 70 seconds to massage his balls and throat before leaving. Ishtar noted it was the coolest thing she'd ever seen her father do.

A week later, Ishtar was sitting in the same spot when the same rat looking man appeared. He wore the “Canadian tuxedo” comfortably with a Dallas Cowboys hat on backwards. Behind him were four eccentrically dressed individuals. The first was an African American wearing a burgundy top hat, tailcoat, dark glasses, and cotton plugs in the nostrils, as if to resemble a corpse dressed and prepared for burial in the Haitian style. The grouped stopped so a rubenesque Asian woman cosplaying as Saya from Blood-C could paint an ornate skull on the Black man’s face. A 6'1" natural blonde woman wearing a Pocahontas costume watched the painting with visible signs of impatience. Ishtar mused that her breast had to be fake. Last was an is immensely tall and and bulky man. He has long, powerful arms and legs, massive hands and feet. He has shoulder-length slick black hair and imposing facial features. He was dressed like pro wrestler Pete Dunne. The face painting completed, the Big guy turned the knob and opened the door. Ishtar knew the door was locked, having locked it nine minutes prior behind her, and surmised he broke the knob with his hand. The five entered and closed the door behind them. Ishtar dashed home. The doorknob was indeed borken when she entered. Before she could take in the scene, the blonde woman closed the the door and stood guard in front of it. Ishtar noted the woman appeared to be in her 40’s and clearly worked out. The big guy had his foot on her fathers left cheek, pinning his face to the floor. He had her father’s arm left torqued up in a such a manner that guaranteed damage. Her mother, Jessie was holding eight year old Giuseppe Jr., covering his eyes and ears. Isis, her older sister had her face pinned against the refrigerator. A kunai pointed at her throat kept her docile.

The Black man squatted, his crotch inches from Giuseppe's face and spoke with an Eastern European accent, “Permit me to introduce myself; my name is Count Demon Lord, leader of the Black Magick Syndicate. It seems you ignored my instructions and disrespected one of my men.”

The big guy released some of the pressure on Guiseppe’s arm so he could speak rationally.

“Please I can get you the money! I’ll apologize! I’ll do anything you say, just don’t hurt my family!”

Demon Lord rolled his eyes and stood up, the big guy added more pressure to the arm until Giuseppe was silent.

“OH, please er… what was his name le Fou?”

“Giuseppe Knoxville” the French rat looking guy replied.

“Right. Now see here Giuseppe this isn’t about the money. We have plenty of that. Hell this isn’t even about the thievery or the disrespect. We’re big fans of that kind of behavior. The truth is we have money and power beyond your wildest dreams. and the boredom that comes along with it. So when le Fou told us of your altercation, we found what we always seek, a flimsy excuse to act on our most deviant desires. So spare us the pleading and begging, we’re not interested. We’re not here to scare you or teach you a lesson. You all are our prey, and no amount of money or words will change that. Accept your fate so that you might entertain us a bit. Teah…”

The big guy took his queue and loudly broke Giuseppe’s humerus. His scream was drowned out by the laughter of the eccentrics.

“le Fou, search this hovel for anything of merit. Teah, break his legs. Zara, bring me that girl.” The rubenesque Asian woman dragged Isis by her dyed blonde hair to Demon Lord. Isis was 20 years old and had the kind of body other women slave in the gym for. Her face has always been described as angelic. She had her own room, but was suppose to move out and college so Ishtar and Giuseppe Jr. wouldn’t have to share. Their parents never pressured her to do so though. Demon Lord had Isis down to her bra and panties with seven strokes of a karambit he had secreted on his person. Giuseppe had his protests silenced by Teah loudly breaking his left tibia, much to the delight of the eccentrics. Giuseppe groaned an idle threat which provoked Teah to break his right femur. Demon Lord was roughly fondling Iris while Jesse, their mother, continued to cover Giuseppe Jr’s eyes and ears; begging for God to deliver them from this ordeal. Isis took this moment to resist, clawing at Demon Lord’s face. His response was a right hook that landed just under her left eye. Isis hit the carpet barely conscious, the bruise already starting to form under her tears. He then sliced off her bra and panties and raped her. Teah held Giuseppe's head, forcing his eyes open so he could watch.

Before he could discharge, le Fou returned with a pillowcase full of items in one hand and a book in the other. Ishtar could see it was her copy of Justine. From the sudden tension in the room Ishtar assumed interrupting Demon Lord’s raping had dire consequences for the interrupting party. Le Fou apologized saying, “Please forgive my rude interruption but I thought you’d find this of merit.” and handed him the book. Demon Lord took the book, his face expressed shock as he stared at the cover. He stood, his erection pointed directly at Ishtar, still staring at the book, “Which one of you animals reads this filth?!” he venomously demanded. The only person who spoke was Jessie, reciting the book of psalms from memory. “Brynhild!” Demon Lord was enraged “Cut pieces off that little boy until I get an answer!”

The blonde woman moved, but Zara grabbed Ishtar by the back of her neck so she couldn’t escape. Brynhild snatched Giuseppe from his mother’s arms effortlessly. She produced a balisong and threatened to cut off the crying boy’s middle finger. Giuseppe was having his broken arm manhandled by Teah. When Demon Lord started to sodomize Iris with his lizard skin shoe did Ishtar proclaim the book was her’s. Demon Lord approached Ishtar, kneeling in front of her asking, “This is your book?”

“Yes.” Ishtar murmured.

“You’ve actually read this?”

“Twice.” she nodded.

“What did you think about it?”

“Well, I like how the characters do whatever they want without fear of any consequences.”

“Have you read the sequel? Juliette, or Vice Amply Rewarded?”

“Yes, I finished it about a month ago.”

“What is your name Child?”

“Ishtar.”

“After a goddess of sex, desire, justice, and political power; perfection. Ishtar, our syndicate is full of libertines who follow the treatises outlined in de Sade’s books. Our money and power allow any action to go unpunished by law enforcement. That’s why no police are coming, none of your neighbors will check on you. I offer you an invitation into our syndicate, and a life of vice amply rewarded. Or you can watch us rape, torture and murder your family and luxuriate in it. But know that revenge and justice belong to the rich and powerful and none are as rich and powerful as us. We’ll never be arrested or tried for this. No one would deign to take our lives on your behalf.”

Ishtar thought it over. Her father was a successful contractor out of high school until three years ago, when he injured his back on the job. But because Giuseppe wasn’t following established safety protocols, the company refused to pay his medical bills. He exhausted their savings on a lawsuit he lost. All because he wanted the world to understand he was a real man, full of arrogance and machismo. In the seven years since Giuseppe Jr was born, Ishtar could count on one hand the number of times her father had a meaningful conversation with her; save holidays, birthdays, and half assed parenting during the commercials of baseball games. His son was the focus of his love and affection. Why should she act in the interests of such a man?

Jessie Knoxville wasn’t Ishtar or Isis’ biological mother. That honor belonged to Isabelle Flores-Knoxville, currently known as Prisoner #97S444. She was convicted 12 years ago for arson in the second degree and two counts of attempted murder for fire bombing a warehouse owned by an alleged racist. Two security guards were present with one dying, though she was found not guilty of one count of murder in the first degree. Sentence: 18 years, eligible for parole in five which was denied for amassing other charges while incarcerated. Jessie Knoxville was a woman who assumed her first two marriages to abusive douchebags were due to her lack of faith in God. Every ill and woe in this world was due one’s poor relationship with God, according to her. She became devout and seven months later she meets Giuseppe Knoxville. After a 298 day courtship they were married, which Jessie believed was God’s blessing on her. Ten months later Giuseppe Jr was born, another miracle she attributed to God because her first two marriages produced no children. God didn’t keep her from gaining 65 lbs from an increasingly sedentary lifestyle since becoming pregnant.

Ishtar wished her sister refused to move about just to spite her, knowing once her room became Ishtar’s, she’d never get it back. But the truth was Giuseppe squandered their college fund on that failed lawsuit, and Isis would throw this in their father’s face whenever Jessie wasn’t in earshot. But that was a smokescreen for Isis did not talent of any kind. Her grades have always been poor, since kindergarten. Jessie and Ishtar have openly pondered if she has an undiagnosed learning deficiency. She couldn’t learn high school cheerleading routines, sing to save her life or act her way through a high school play. She couldn’t paint, draw, sculpt or weave.

She could barely add an app to her phone without assistance.

Giuseppe Jr was only seven and understood his parents would never believe he could sin. Twice his school accused him of vandalism and both times they denied he was capable of such behaviour. Ishtar once accused him of stealing a pair of her panties, but their parents assumed she’d misplaced them. Isis accused him of stealing some money from her and nothing was done. He acted with impunity and at that thought Ishtar had her answer. Thinking upon characters from the books she’d read, she put her hands on her hips and replied, “Vice amply rewarded please.” earning an applause and cheers from the eccentrics.

“Excellent!” Demon Lord mused, “You may have the honor of orchestrating their fates.”

“Do we have to kill them?” Ishtar asked.

“Only if you desire it child. Some fates are worse than death”

“Good. I really want them to suffer and go on suffering. I assume no act is taboo?”

“My child, if one here will not commit the act you envision, we can have someone here who will in thirty minutes.”

“In that case, I want one of you to sodomize my little brother.” Ishtar chose her words so the Giuseppe Jr wouldn’t understand. The eccentrics all looked to Teah, who released the father, licked his lips and took hold of the son. Brynhild took over the job of guarding the father while Demon Lord resumed his raping of Isis. Jessie became hysterical and tried to rush Teah, but Zara stopped her with a quick kick to her liver. By then Teah had the boy naked and on the carpet in front of his father. Teah removed his own clothing, revealing an uncircumcised member as large as Ishtar’s forearm. Using only his spittle as lubricant, Teah violently forced his prick into the boy, pulling his hair to keep his face in his father’s line of sight.

Jessie began to scream about the wrath of God and how vengeance will be his and how they’re all going to Hell. “Le Fou was it?” Ishtar asked of the little man to which he nodded, “Go into my bitch sister’s room, find her dildo and stuff it into my STEP mother’s mouth.”

“I thought these would come in handy.” Le Fou replied producing Isis’ John Holmes Realistic Dildo and a roll of duct tape from the pillow case. Zara zip tied Jessie’s hand behind her back as Le Fou approached. Between the two of them, it only took 50 seconds to get the dildo secured in her mouth.

Ishtar used the basting brush from the kitchen to paint an inverted pentagram on her father’s face with the blood leaking from her brother’s continually violated anus. She then kicked him in the ribs six times before asking someone to castrate him. Brynhild was happy to oblige. Le Fou brought her a fillet knife from the kitchen and helped Ishtar strip and restrain Giuseppe while Brynhild did the deed. Ishtar took her father’s genitalia and put them in the microwave and set it to cook on full power for 29 minutes. Giuseppe fainted from the pain, much to the disgust of the eccentrics.

Ishtar then approached Teah, staring at Jessie as she said, “I want you to discharge in my mouth so I can show these cunts I’m in for well more than a pound.” Teah intensified his thrusting to expedite orgasam. When on the verge, he pulled out so swiftly splattered wherever possible. Ishtar aimed the blood and shit covered member to her mouth. Ishtar was startled by the kinetic energy of the discharge; it’s thickness made it impossible to swallow in two gulps. What she couldn't swallow, she spat in her little brother’s face. Taking this cue, Demon Lord pulled out and discharged his thin, yet plentiful semen all over Giuseppe Jr’s face; the eccentrics applauded.

Ishtar went to the kitchen and returned with a can of insecticide. She handed it to Brynhild and ordered her to shove it in Jessie cunt. Upon hearing this, Jessie offered the fiercest resistance she could, which was futile given her condition. Brynhild laughed as dodged and blocked Jessie’s kicking as a diversion, Teah grabbed her by the neck, picked her up and slammed her back into the armchair only Giuseppe was allowed to sit in. Before she could recover, Brynhild tore her cheap sweat pants and cheap panties off and Teah grabbed her heels and spread her legs as wide as possible. Ishtar took the cap off and opened her mother’s vagina for penetration. Brynhild lubricated the spray can with juices fingered out of Jessie and herself and used both hands to shove it in. She simply whimpered through the ordeal, until the spray activated; then she screamed and thrashed about as best she could. This amused the eccentrics. Teah and Brynhild released her so she could fall to the floor and give birth to the spray can.

Isis began to stir and at Ishtar's command Zara stood her up by her hair and cuffed her behind the back. Ishtar caressed her sister's smooth skin with the flat of the fillet knife as she spoke, “How many times did you call me lesbian, dyke, creep and retarded?”

“Please Ish…”

“How many times did you punch, kick and slap me? Why did you hate me just for being your sister?”

“I'm sorry Ishtar. Please stop…”

“YOU'RE ONLY SORRY TO SAVE YOUR MISERABLE LIFE YOU STUPID FUCKING COW! But I have no plans to murder you, yet. I want you to experience the lesbianism that disgusts you so. Zara, can you make this bitch cum like she never came before?”

“Not my bag babe, but Brynhild can.” Zara shoved Isis into the armchair and spread her legs like Teah had done Jessie as Brynhild knelt and began cunnilingus. Meanwhile Jessie began to make coughing and choking noises in between random spasms. Demon Lord lacerated her left cheek while cutting the tape. He removed the dildo from her mouth and she vomited violently. This brought Giuseppe back to consciousness, who could only wail in pain and despair.

“Yes! Oh my gods yes!” Ishtar shouted. “That sound is what I wanted to hear! The sound of a man being devoured by is despair, his anguish!” Ishtar stripped off her clothing and began frigging her hairy cunt. “Teah,” she commanded, “fuck my father up the ass. Lube it with his whore’s vomit. Le Fou, fuck his whore up the ass. Have them face to face so they can kiss each other. I wish to discharge my fuck upon their faces.” Demon Lord to position behind Zara adding, “This cunt craves prick, and prick it shall have!”

It was arranged and performed as described.

When all save Giuseppe and Jessie had discharged, Ishtar packed a suitcase with her meager belongings. She dressed and departed with the eccentrics. Teah Demon Lord, and Le Fou were in one car, Zara, Brynhild and Ishtar in another. Demon Lord’s group had sped off ahead, and as Ishtar’s group followed the spotted Giuseppe Jr three blocks away. He walked like a zombie, naked and dripping blood from his rectum. Ishtar bade Brynhild pull over and she opened her door saying, “Junior! Thank God you got out of there too! Quickly, get in before they find out we’re gone.” Giuseppe Jr was apprehensive, also seven and in a lot of pain. No one answered any door he knocked on, no passerby offered him help or listened to his pleas. This was the only help offered him since leaving the condo. He took Ishtar’s hand and got in the car. Ishtar closed the door behind him and told Brynhild to drive. The doors loudly locked and they sped to catch up to the other car.

“Relax little brother, everything is gonna be alright from now on.” Ishtar smiled. This brought a cackle from the driver seat. Giuseppe Jr got a good look at Brynhild in the driver seat and panicked. He tried to open the door but couldn’t, the doors had childproof locks.