#edit: added a quick note in hindsight

[vagueeyes]

s/f was great!! thank you @silverview for taking time out of your day to meet up with me before & after the show, and for the lovely bracelets!!! ddd my beloved ���� and also for being first in the queue for the stage door!!!!

quick summary of the stage door experience:

so. i had scriptbook 3 with me and had it open and ready when people started coming out. in my mind i thought steve could sign ttp (bc he's amazing in it) & reece could sign curse of the ninth (bc it's his "new favourite"). and i had my fingers on both of those pages...

but then while chatting i heard steve say hello and suddenly they were both in front of me?? i panicked and ended up having them both sign on curse of the ninth because my brain stopped functioning???

and yet i felt like externally i held it together 😅😅 and steve said to me, "ah, curse of the ninth - good choice!" so it was alright in the end i think!!!

then we lurked for a bit and watched them go in to j sheekey 😬

in hindsight, i wish i got them both to sign ttp but not dwelling too much on this. the queue was long and i didn't want to hold things up!

[pilothusband]

A lit torch to the woodpile high (part 3)

A Paz VIzsla Bartender!AU

Rating: M (this one gets spicy folks)

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol (they work in a bar), pining, death/grief mention, masturbation, fantasies of p in v sex, Paz puts himself in horny jail, light smut 

Word count: 3.1k

Description: This one is purely self-indulgent. You decide to up the ante and make Paz’s life (and other parts of him) hard. Harlow is a lil shit, but we love for for it.

Author’s note: I’m still not completely satisfied with this chapter, but I’ve been working on it for far too long. Lightly edited, unbeta’d. Please go here to be added to the taglist! This one goes out to my pal May. Missing you on my dash. Hope you see this update and enjoy it 🥰

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

He couldn’t get you out of his head. It was maddening.

It had been a long time since anyone had stirred these kinds of feelings up for him, and he doesn’t recall it ever hitting him like a freight train.

He used to think of life in two absolutes: Before he lost everything and After, when he had to pick up the pieces. Now he was starting to think there was more to it, that those absolutes were just parts of him.

If only he wasn’t such a miserable bastard. You were the light in a dark sky. Not just for him, for everyone. He saw the delighted smile that was plastered on Rick’s face after you walked in every day and asked him how his grandchildren were doing, if his wife’s knee was feeling any better.

Paz noticed the change in Harlow’s demeanor now that she had a friend who could build her up when she talked about her dreams. Hell, Madge snuck you food every chance she got, and she only ever did that for him.

He found himself lying awake in bed tonight, as usual, trying to calm the stream of thought that entered his head. Before you, he only could ever think about the ghosts of his past. People he had loved and lost.

But now? Now as he closed his eyes, he saw your eyes, sparkling with delight. Your lips, in a pout, then stretched over a brilliant smile.

The delicate curve of your neck and shoulder. Your ass. He groaned out loud. God, your ass was out of this world. The way it moved when you bent over to grab a dish towel from the bottom shelf. He always had to look away before his thoughts got away from him, or else his mind would wander and he would imagine snaking his arms over yours and caging you to the bar, rolling his hips into yours. You would wiggle your ass against him and throw your head back to see his reaction.

Fuck. Now he was hard. Every time this happened, he would either watch some porn or force himself to think of a woman he didn’t know, someone who he dreamed up in his head.

But no faceless stranger or actress could quite do it for him like you would. He could feel his self control crumbling as he reached into his boxer briefs and fisted his aching cock, taking it out and letting it sit heavy against his stomach, straining with need.

He ran a finger up the underside, imagining it was you teasing him, getting acquainted with how hot and hard he was for you. He let himself picture you, naked and in between his legs, stroking him gently, watching him come apart underneath you. Ideally, he’d flip you over and dive face first into your cunt, lapping wide stripes at your slick folds with his tongue, then sucking your clit into his mouth. He would wait until you’re mewling under him, then he’d plunge a finger into you, stretching you around his finger and adding another. He’d wait until you came in his mouth at least twice before he fucked you. He’d have you begging for his cock, so slick with need it dripped down your thighs.

In this part of the fantasy, you’re so feral for him, your eyes bright and wide looking up at him with hunger, that he acquiesces, and you climb onto his lap and bounce up and down on his cock.

He was stroking himself faster now, feeling so close to the edge. He grit his teeth, growling your name as he came all over his fist, spurts reaching up his stomach, almost all the way to his chest.

As soon as he came to his senses, he sighed, feeling disgusted with himself.

There was a moment in the bed of his truck that night, where you had stared at him, your gaze flickering down to his mouth as you licked your bottom lip. It was just a small flash of your tongue– but it gave him hope for a moment. He had hope that someone as beautiful and kind as you could see through the darkness within him, see the guy he used to be before he lost everything.

But that part of Paz died, along with the family he cared so deeply for. The remaining ones scattered to the wind, unable to carry on pretending like everything hadn’t changed.

He sighed deeply, getting up to wash the shame off himself. At least he’d sleep soundly tonight and dream of a reality where he could hold you in his arms.

Paz seemed to be in higher spirits lately, following your chat in his office. It wasn’t like he skipped into the room and had birds fluttering around his head, like a Disney princess, but he didn’t snap at anyone who made eye contact with him, so it was a noticeable difference.

That was the hot topic conversation of the day, especially for Harlow. She couldn’t get over the 360 change that seemingly happened overnight.

“So, did you doink the grumpy out of him or what?” Harlow asked. She was leaning over the bar, looking at you expectantly with her hands under her chin.

“Of course not!” You said, a little too loudly. “There has not, and will not be any doinking, ever.”

“This sounds like work appropriate conversation,” a deep voice drawled. 

You both spun around, not expecting to see him standing in the doorway, his eyebrow arched. He was clearly unimpressed.

“I’m going to go clean the bathrooms,” Harlow said, dashing out back. Fucking traitor.

You prayed to the almighty maker that the floor would open up and swallow you whole, but there was no such luck in store for you today.

“Hey Paz,” you said, trying to sound casual, as if Harlow hadn’t been talking about your non-existent sex life.

“Hey you,” he said, mimicking your tone. “I actually came out here to ask you if you could swap a shift with Harlow next Friday. I fucked up and scheduled her on a day she requested off. You’d get Sunday off in return.”

“Sure,” you agreed, nodding. “I don’t have any plans.”

“You don’t have any plans to ‘doink’ anyone that night?” He teased.

You could feel your face heating up in embarrassment.

“Not unless you know any willing volunteers.” 

Paz barked out a laugh.

“I might know a guy,” he said, a smirk etched on his handsome face.

You both cursed and thanked the powers above that a customer decided to walk in right at that moment. Of course it was Bob. He usually was the first to come in and one of the last to leave.

Not wanting to lose whatever contest was going on (real or perceived), you gave Paz a coy smile and leaned over the bar to take Bob’s order, making sure you poked your ass out further than necessary.

You couldn’t see Paz’s reaction, but when he exited without so much of a goodbye, you gave yourself an internal fist pump.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to (potentially) break a dress code at work, but in your defense it was hotter than the surface of the sun, and internal temperature of the bar only seemed to get higher as the night went on.

Also, maybe it would be an added bonus if you got to torture a giant, brooding bartender in the process.

You felt pretty proud of your decision to wear your thinnest bralette, squeeze into your smallest pair of shorts, paired with a t-shirt that was just a little too small.

Of course your car decided to stall 3 times on the way to work, and your AC was busted so you walked in 15 minutes late, already feeling like a frizzy, sweaty mess. Your entrance wasn’t as grand as you were hoping, feeling like your half-assed attempt at makeup had already melted off your face, and the black v-neck you wore was clinging to you in all the wrong places, mainly your sweaty back and right under your bra.

In your rush to clock in before the 20-minute mark, you crashed right into Paz, almost falling and landing on your ass. Paz, of course, barely moved a centimeter. His hand shot out, grabbing you by the shoulder to hold you steady.

“Woah there, small fry, be careful,” he murmured. His hand was large and warm. You had to take a deep breath to get a hold of yourself.

“Paz, I’m so sorry I’m late. My fucking car stalled out on the way and–” you started babbling, pushing your sweaty mane back, praying he couldn’t see the sweat stains on your shirt.

“It’s okay, shit happens. You need someone to look at your car? I know a guy.” He was leaning forwards to get a better look at you, looking concerned. You had trouble controlling how fast your heart was beating and your lungs felt like they couldn’t get enough air. It was plain bizarre, the affect this man had on you with a simple gesture.

I know a guy. Your cheeks felt warm remembering the last time he uttered that sentence.

You had expected him to get angry with you for being late. Hell, you remember the gruff tone he gave you on your first day when he said to show up on time.

“I- I um,” you were having a hard time coming up with words, too distracted by the sensation of Paz’s thumb rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder, brushing against your collar bone. Despite the heat, you felt goosebumps rise on your flesh and your nipples instantly pebbled. You stole a quick glance down to make sure it wasn’t obvious. Shit, it totally was.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he replied. Had his voice dropped a few octaves or were you just imagining it?  He removed his hand from your shoulder, much to your chagrin, and backed up a little, giving you a once-over.

“Go ahead and clock in and give yourself a couple minutes to get settled. It should be slow today,” he gave you a soft smile.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, giving him a shy smile in return.

It was about 3 hours into your 8 hour shift and it was dead. There wasn’t a single customer in sight. It wasn’t that surprising, given it was a Tuesday, but God were you bored. It was just you and Paz tonight, with Paz sending Madge home (with pay) and no one else being scheduled.

You didn’t really mind, though, figuring it was a good time to get to know Paz better. He was wiping the already clean bar down for the fifth time that night, really driving the bartender stereotype home.

“You’re going to start wearing the varnish down at this rate,” you laughed, gesturing at the rag in his hand.

He looked down, shaking his head in a playfully exasperated way and let out an embarrassed huff of laughter.

“Alright, how do you suggest we pass the time?”

“How about 20 questions?”

Paz immediately groaned in protest.

“Oh shut up, you big baby, I’ll answer first. Go ahead,” you cocked your chin at him. “Got any questions you’re dying to ask me?”

“Why did you apply for a job here?”

Your first instinct was to deflect, but you did suggest this game, and figured you just had to bite the bullet and answer honestly.

“To be honest, I still haven’t figured out what I want to do,” you explained. “I know, kind of pathetic for someone my age. I took a bartending class at the local adult learning center, got a certificate and just kind of walked in here and asked for an application on a whim.”

Paz could sense your discomfort, how you were ashamed that you hadn’t found your way yet. It was something he could identify with, in a way.

“That’s not pathetic at all,” he said, crossing his arms. “Plenty of people don’t know what they want to do at your age.”

You shrugged, not wanting to continue the subject.

“Boxers or briefs?”

Paz arched an eyebrow, his ever-present sign of judgement coming through.

“That’s what you’re dying to ask me?”

“No, but I figured I’d warm you up first,” you said, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Boxer briefs. Favorite color?”

“Blue. Where did you grow up?��

Paz’s casual expression faltered at the question. 

“Far away. I’d rather not get into it today, if you don’t mind.” The easy smile vanished from your face, replacing it with a nod of understanding.

“That’s totally fine, Paz. I’m sorry if I overstepped,” you sat down at a table, and gestured at the chair across from you, signaling him to sit down. You wanted him to feel at ease around you.

“You and your apologies,” Paz said, a look of fond disbelief on his face. “You have nothing to apologize for, mesh’la.”

A beat of silence passed, waiting for Paz to think of a question. You wanted to ask him what that word he had called you meant, but you had a feeling he would dodge the question.

“Who were you and Harlow talking about yesterday?” Paz rested his chin in his hand, giving you a shit-eating grin. He must have known the answer already, given the smug look on his face.

You felt the color drain out of your face. 

“Why do you want to know so badly?” You countered. In the back of your mind, you thought you probably shouldn’t have talked back to your boss, but his smile didn’t waver. In fact, it only got wider.

“That doesn’t answer my question, sweetheart,” he drawled, stretching his legs and crossing one over the other.

“Harlow,” you thought of a way to word this without incriminating yourself or your friend. But screw it, she had opened her big mouth in the first place. “Harlow thinks there’s something going on between you and me.”

You briefly wondered if his facial muscles were used to this kind of workout, with the grin that refused to let up.

“And your answer was basically, ‘ew no’, ouch,” he chuckled.

“It’s not like– ugh. Fuck you.” You hid your face in your hands. He laughed harder. You had to do something to flip this around, gain back a little power over the situation.

Oh. An evil thought entered your brain. You removed your hands from your face and smirked. Paz was still grinning, but you saw a hint of fear in his eyes.

“Pray tell, what would you have preferred I said?”

Paz leaned back in his chair and regarded you for a moment. It seemed you had thrown him through a loop. You couldn’t help but feel pleased with yourself.

But then he leaned forward, placing both of his large hands on the table, a hungry look in his eyes.

“You can say whatever you want to Harlow,” he said, his voice even but significantly huskier than usual. “But I’d prefer it if you didn’t lie to yourself.”

It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest any second now. You weren’t sure if he was being serious and it was making your head spin.

A sound came from the kitchen, snapping you both out of the moment. You sprung apart, despite having a table between your bodies.

“Okay lovebirds, I’m heading home.” It was Madge, standing by the kitchen doors, snickering at your antics.

“Night, Madge,” Paz called. 

You waved feebly and offered a weak “goodnight” at her retreating figure.

It had been too quiet since she had left. Paz seemed unwilling to continue the conversation, opting to brood silently. You muttered something about getting a head start on inventory and retreated into the dusty storage closet to pretend you were counting inventory. Though, you didn’t bring a pen and paper with you, so really you just went out back to stare at a bunch of kegs and liquor bottles, hoping they would miraculously answer all of the questions that were whirring through your brain.

You must have been staring at a bottle of Hennessy for at least a full 5 minutes when the door opened. Paz looked absolutely wrecked. His hair was mussed up, as if he had been running his fingers through it. His chest was heaving as if he had just sprinted a mile.

“Paz.” His name came out of your mouth like a prayer. You weren’t sure what you were asking of him, but you knew you needed him to act.

He stepped closer, slowly, as if he was afraid the floor would open up from under his feet.

“Tell me to stop.” Paz was just inches away now, caging you into the shelves behind you with his arms.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” You asked, tipping your chin up to look at him.

He growled and tangled his fingers in your hair, kissing you with fervor.

Despite the ferocity of his kiss, his lips were so soft, so pliant. You moaned and licked into his mouth needing to taste him. Paz moaned, pushing you into the shelves further. 

“You drive me crazy,” he panted, pressing his forehead to yours. You responded by capturing his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him back to your mouth. You were rewarded with a low groan and a push of his hips.

He was hard. That knowledge sent you into a haze. You needed him closer. Your arms went around his shoulders, kneading and pulling him in. He broke the kiss and peppered smaller kisses on your jaw, then down your neck.

“You wear these tiny little shorts and tight shirt to torture me?” He asked, already knowing the answer. He nibbled at your collar bone, hitting a spot that had you throwing your head back against the shelves.

“Yes,” you chuckled breathlessly.

“Mmm, knew it,” he answered, running his hands down your back, down to your ass, giving it a generous squeeze that had you mewling.

“I’ve been hard all fucking day, seeing you waltz around in those shorts, with your nipples hard, begging to be sucked.”

He rubbed his thumb over one of your nipples, causing it to pebble. Paz swallowed your gasp with his mouth, giving you another searing kiss.

Reality came rearing its ugly head in the form of the front door opening. Paz huffed and pressed his forehead to yours, hands coming around your hips to help you off the shelf.

“Duty calls,” he sighed, reaching his hand down into his jeans to adjust himself. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Paz exited the closet, strolling out and greeting the customer as if nothing had just happened, while you stole a few moments to yourself to get your bearings.

It was going to be a long night.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @recklessworry @cannedsoupsucks @pocket-pudding @simping-for-clones @gallowsjoker @idiotonastar @seratoninforyouseratoninforme @devanthus @legally-a-bastard @my-awakened-ghost @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @sheresh0y​ @starlite41​

[sa-suga]

#OWLTIERIGHTS

∟ bokuto koutarou x gn!reader | humour/crack, a bit of fluff

warnings: swear words, tbh this is more like a squadfic, the author’s complete lack of knowledge about how the filming of news reports/variety shows work, i just decided over lunch that meteorologist bokuto is very much Valid and my gremlin brain latched onto that like a dying man

masterlist

summary: there’s a new addition to Fukurodani Studio, and he wears ties patterned with baby owls and smiles brighter than your studio lights. you make a note to send a bouquet to Nekomata, because wow, his new model of news cameras really are amazing, if you can see the stitches on Bokuto’s trousers.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“Kuroo keeps pushing for the thirsty tweets idea, but, I don’t know,” you balance your phone in the crook of your neck as you frown at the reports in your hands, “haven’t we already done one of those this month?”

“Ignore him,” Kenma says over the line, and you hear the rapid smashing of a keyboard over the static. Yamamoto yodels in the background. “He just wants to see Lev meltdown on national television again.”

You huff at the memory. It’d been kind of adorable, the way he’d trainwrecked into embarrassment. “I’ll tell Kuroo you said to ignore him; hey, what do you think about-” 

��HEY HEY HEY!” Someone bursts into the lobby from the stairwell. You're on the eighth floor. He’s not even winded. 

“AGHAASHI!” He beams, looking around the room brightly, and you actually have to shield your eyes - which entity decided to casually drop a sun in the middle of an office in the dead of night? Well, you grumble internally, fuck you too, universe.  

It takes you a while to map the name to the face, and you realize you’ve been silent for a moment too long - great, look dumb in front of the hot, athletic, sunny man, way to go Y/n, would you like to trip off a cliff while you’re at it? - “Akaashi-san is on the morning crew,” you tell him. A quick glance at your screen tells you Kenma has long since hung up. “He only comes in at 9a.m.” 

You squint. Are those baby owls on his tie? They clash terribly with his checkered suit, especially when you take his odd hair into consideration. You think you might be in love.

"WHAT?” He crowds your personal space in a few large strides. You find it hotter than you probably should. And wow, those biceps. You could get between those.

“Yeah,” you repeat, as you ogle his neck - his tie is crooked, the top button undone, and you can’t tell if you want to pull it off or fix the stupid tie with the stupidly cute owls - “Akaashi-san’s the producer for the morning show, Fukurodani News, so he only comes in at 9a.m.”

He blinks at you owlishly. (Ha. Owlishly, owls, owl tie. Fuck, you need caffeine.)

Then, slowly, he turns to where there’s a clock somewhere behind you. You turn with him for dramatic effect. The building holds its breath. 

There’s a satisfying tick as the hour hand shifts to point squarely at 11. The sky outside is dark, and you wonder if suffering through the powdery taste of office coffee is worth it for another shot of caffeine.

“Oh,” he says, sounding like a deflated balloon - you swear his hair even droops a little; how is a grown man who looks like he could punt you in the sun so adorable, what the actual fuck - “Aghaashi meant 11a.m.”

It’s love at first sight.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

His name is Bokuto Koutarou, and he’s the new meteorologist for the morning show. 

He's also the love of your life, and you're not even being dramatic. In fact, you think you’re handing this very, very professionally.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

It’s 8p.m on a Wednesday, and you’ve shut the door to your office, drawn the blinds, and turned off the lights. 

Steepling your fingers before you in concentration, you wait with a deathly sense of calm for the recording of the morning news to load. More specifically, a recording of the weather forecast segment of the the morning news. On loop.

“HEY HEY HEY!” Bokuto’s smile is contagious even through a screen. The mic crackles and lets out a ear-splitting shriek at his volume. You empathize. 

“GOOD MORNING TOKYO!” His grin is blinding; it’s like he’d absorbed all the studio lights, decided it still wasn’t enough, and added a sun or two for good measure. You make a mental note to ask Yukie to dim the studio lights and turn down the audio for Bokuto’s segment in the future - the equipment is new, and it’d been hard enough to wheedle for discounts from Nekomata for his latest model of news cameras. 

On-screen, Bokuto pauses, tapping his ear. “OH,” he says, “AGHAASHI SAYS THERE’S A POSSIBILITY OF RAIN TODAY.” His tie is crooked, you notice. His biceps bulge through the fabric of his suit. 

Only the best cuts of meat for you, Yukie. 

“IT’S GOING TO BE SHOWERING,” Bokuto says cheerfully, as he draws lopsided circles over prefectures on the interactive map with wild abandon, “SO DON’T FORGET YOUR UMBRELLAS! - HEY AGHAASHI, HOW DO THOSE TRANSPARENT ONES WORK? THEY DON’T STOP YOU FROM SEEING THE RAIN!” There’s a pause, and you can almost hear his answer - there’s a certain timbre that’s unique to Akaashi; his voice conveys all his desire for sleep and death while still maintaining a very polite edge. 

“WOW, THAT’S AMAZING! HEY GUYS, AGHAASHI SAYS SEEING THE RAIN DOESN’T MEAN IT TOUCHES YOU! THAT’S LIKE PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK-”

“Thank you Bokuto-san,” the feed changes to Konoha, the host, and who’s doing a terrible job of containing his glee - are those tears in his eyes? - “now back to Yamato-san for the morning news. Stay tuned!”

You wonder if you can convince Akaashi to let Kenma borrow Bokuto for the night show. Somehow, you imagine he’d get along with Tetsurou, in the same way adding sodium to water would result in a Big Bang - like sure, there’d be collateral damage, but hey, the fireworks were pretty, and the sound was dope, right?

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Convincing all parties involved - except Akaashi and Kenma, who still thought it was a bad idea but were overruled by everyone else - that blowing things up on set is a good idea results in probably the most chaotic show you’ve ever produced. 

“HEY HEY HEY, TOKYO!” Bokuto crows on set, fist pumping, and Yukie winces from within the sound booth, pulling her headset away from her ears.

“Today, we’re-“

“BLOWING THINGS UP!”

Tetsurou and Bokuto smirk. Lev, who’s waiting off-set, shivers. Inuoka whoops and presses a series of buttons in rapid succession. The ceiling above the set splits open, sending confetti streaking prettily over the two hosts of today’s show. The spotlights flicker on, and you actually have to squint when Bokuto smiles. 

“Actually,” Fukunaga, the news anchor for the night show, steps in, “we’re just conducting science experiments.”

“WHY’D YOU SAY SOMETHING SO BORING WHILE SMILING LIKE THAT!” Bokuto crosses his arms across his chest, pouting, and wow, you really had to thank Yukie for getting him to wear more fitting suits. 

You watch as Fukunaga’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m not smiling.” 

Tetsurou cackles. “There’s our Shohei - the only man who can read the news with a smile!”

If possible, Fukunaga’s frown deepens. You worry his eyebrows may knit together. “I don’t smile.”

Then a volleyball flies on set, tearing straight through the backdrop. The Tokyo Tower peels away and droops sadly, next to the statue of a whale outside the National Museum of Nature and Science, which is now missing its head. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Shibayama from Editing sigh and drop his head into his hands as Konoha’s laughter rings throughout the studio - no amount of editing will be able to erase it from the tape. Devil spawn leave their traces everywhere.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Three days later, after an intense round of editing - you barely see Shibayama and Shuichi outside of the editing studio, and the occasional groans you hear when you pass by have half-convinced you they’ve turned into the walking dead - the show airs. The views skyrocket.

On Twitter, below the #HEYHEYHEY tag that has been trending ever since Bokuto’s first appearance, #FUKURODANISUPERIORITY is trending. You screenshot it and send it to Daichi.

Smiling, you make a note to send them a bouquet as congratulations; Shiratorizawa’s topped the Miyagi rankings for as long as anyone can remember. Maybe you’ll search for recordings of Karasuno’s show, to see what they’ve been up to.

(And crush them when they come for a joint show.)

Speaking, of, Yukie deserves a reward for her exemplary work. You’re nothing if not a supportive and professional boss, after all.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

You try not to drool as you watch the recording of the morning show from your office.

Yukie really outdid herself this time, you think, as you watch the way the fabric of Bokuto’s trousers pull taut over his thighs when he moves. Distantly, you’re aware of Inuoka calling your name. You ignore him.

Fuuuck, you exhale deeply. You can see the stitches on Bokuto’s suit. You can also see the thin sliver of muscle where he had paid absolutely no attention to the tucking integrity of his shirt. 

No one is able to talk to you for the twenty or so minutes that Bokuto’s segment airs.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

At Fukurodani Studio, holding a party every New Year’s is a time-honoured tradition.

Akaashi calls it a celebration of past achievements and a way to start off a new year of improvement.

Kenma calls it a waste of time.

Most people call it free real estate.

Having a party that lasts from New Year’s Eve to the morning of New Year’s is a time-honoured tradition. So is the complete erasure of honorifics and superior-subordinate relationships.

(In hindsight, the honorifics were more for appearance’s sake than anything. You’d heard about Suzumeda extorting the Variety Show department, and she’s a stylist for the morning crew.)

Still, it makes for a wild night.

“HEY HEY HEY,” Bokuto slurs, pushing off of Tetsurou before collapsing, the latter cursing as he scrambles to take his weight, “OYA, TOK-hic-KYO, YOUR TEM-TEMP-TEMPERATURE IS S-SOAAAARING!” You spot Konoha already on the ground, clutching his stomach as he laughs uncontrollably. 

Yeah, you remember, he’s a giggly drunk.

“Y/n!” Tetsurou spots you as you make your way past the crowd - Yukie waves at you from behind a plate piled high with meat - “Hey, take him for a moment, ‘kay? Kenma ran off and I think he left his coat.” 

You raise a brow. “You’re expecting me to support that sack of muscle?”

“HEAT!” Bokuto exclaims, “BE-hic-CAREFUL, TOKYO! HU-HUMIDITY MEANS APARTMENT FIRES!”

“It really doesn’t,” you tell him.

He pouts. It’s adorable.

You sigh as you help Tetsurou guide him to a chair. “Okay, go find your baby cat, shoo, shoo.”

“Did you mean kitten?”

“Fuck off, Tetsu, I’m tipsy.” You wave him off. 

Komi passes you with a paper cup and you pluck it from his hands and down half of it in one gulp. Beer.

“What,” you glare at him, “I worked hard to get you this buffet.”

“Didn’t say anything,” he raises his hands in surrender, bending down to inspect Konoha, who’s still on the ground, before giving him a decisive kick in the ribs. Konoha howls. Your skin clears.

“Enjoy,” he winks at you as he drags Konoha away unceremoniously by the back of his shirt.

You consider the contents of your cup. This is probably your third one - and you’re a lightweight.

Ah, fuck it. You down the rest of it, and throw the cup into a hastily set up bin.

Bokuto whoops when it goes in, “THAT’S DOPE!”

Turning, you stalk over to him. He beams at you happily, cheeks apple-red with a drunk flush. 

You bend till you’re speaking into his ear, “Wanna know what else is dope?”

“Sure!” He’s a man-child. You’re in love with a man-child. 

“This,” you say, and straddle his lap.

His eyes widen comically. You give him a soft smile, even as your hands ruck his shirt up so that it’s untucked. “If you want me to stop, now’s the time to say so, Bokuto-san.”

“You’re the attractive 11p.m person,” he says instead. Then, excitedly, “Can I really kiss you?”

You kiss him.

A dozen cameras go off.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Dating Bokuto is an Experience, to say the least.

It’s like having an overgrown puppy who doubles as the singular light source wherever he goes. It’s going to bed with goodnight texts and waking up with GOOD MORNING, MISS YOU BABE :( flashing across your screen. It’s waking up to find that the highest trending tags on Twitter are #WEATHERBOYHASABAE and #AMOMENTOFSILENCEFORTOKYO because he starts off his shows with, “GOOD MORNING, Y/N, TOKYO IS SHINING FOR YOU TODAY.” 

It is, apparently, also receiving work emails about your boyfriend’s work ethic at 7a.m.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

thanks for reading!!

i’m aware this is lowkey highkey a crack fic and there isn’t much emphasis on romance here, but i wrote this as stress relief breaks from studying for my lit exams from hell so i decided to run with the chaotic crack (a la kuroo and bokuto),, please appreciate this it kept me sane :”)

also idk if other people do this but i love watching weather forecasts?? like this video is one of my favs; i stan a king going wild with taylor swift references 

ok but for real though if i did this news channel au with the other teams would y’all be interested? (please lmk through asks if you’d like to see more because i really, really want to write it and i’m this close to doing it i just need enablers)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

taglist: @occasional-haikyuu​, @pyblos​, @roseonfireinwinter​ 

if you want to be added to my taglist, please send me an ask!

[cherryeol04]

It’s a Phantom!

Pairing: Changbin x Aiden x Felix

Genre: humor, romance, gaming, horror?cause it’s a horror game they’re playing.

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s notes: please don’t mind any mistakes that you find. I didn’t bother to edit or beta read. We die like the phasmophobia characters!

The light of the flashlight barely illuminated anything in front of him and suddenly Aiden really wished that he had listened to Jisung when he said to buy the strong flashlight. But in his defense, how was he supposed to know the high school was going be so fucking dark?! Unlike his other friends, this was his first time playing Phasmophobia. As the fresh meat that he was, Jisung and Felix had a great time terrorizing the shit out of him on the first two runs  - granted Aiden fed right into their antics despite Changbin telling him not to.  He had to give them credit though, for the first two introductory rounds, they let Aiden be server room leader and pick two amateur runs to go through - the Grafton Farmhouse and Tanglewood Street house and luckily for them, the two ghosts they encountered were the Shade and the Poltergeist. Not as dangerous as the other ghosts in the game, but certainly just as scary to hunt. Still, they had countless times tried to get him killed by telling him to do things that he shouldn't do - like  call out the ghost's name repeatedly , or when the ghost was hunting, to run straight at it with a crucifix because that was definitely going to get it to go away. Definitely. So at the mention of a strong flashlight that would give off better lighting, he wasn't ready to believe them at all.

He regretted it now.

"I hate this."

"I told you to buy a strong flashlight." Jisung's smug remark wasn't needed and it only served to make Aiden slightly more grouchy  than he was currently.  "If you would have just listened-"

"In his defense,  you guys have been complete dicks to him since the start." Changbin spoke, so close to Aiden that he jerked his character forward as he jumped in his chair at the sudden noise.

"Holy fuck! Binnie you scared the shit out of me!" he whined, closing his eyes as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself. They had only just begun the round and he was already on edge. He was sure it had everything to do with the fact that once he entered the house, the noises changed from a calm, quiet night with crickets chirping to an almost dead silence filled with white noise. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry babe." Changbin chuckled and Aiden was pretty sure the other wasn't sorry at all. Humming,  Aiden gathered what little courage he had continued on. He could vaguely hear Jisung shouting down the hall on the right side and Felix was absolutely silent which Aiden could only assume meant that he was farther away than Jisung. With the school being so big, they had agreed to split up into groups so they could cover as much ground in the five minute grace period that they had on the amateur level. Felix and Jisung went right and he and Changbin were going left.

"Found the stairs. I'm going up."  The crackle of the walkie talkie was so jarring that Aiden jumped in his chair once more, letting out a shout of fear. He quickly looked behind him, eyes locked on his bedroom door. When it didn't open, he figured he hadn't disturbed his parents, thankfully, and turned back to his computer screen.

"I really hate this game." he whined out.

"Oh stop, it's not even that scary." Aiden had to remind himself that Jisung was one of his closet friends and that he really did love him. "We're just wandering in a big, dark, abandoned high school, hunting for some spooks."

"Okay, and how is that not scary?"

"Because we have that five minute-" The walkie talkie started crackling as Aiden's flashlight began flashing.

"Oh no, no no no no." Aiden was in near tears as he spun in a circle a few times, bumping into walls before finally finding a closed classroom door.  As he was  going to open the door, he could hear the heavy thud of footsteps coming his way, spiking the fear coursing through him. Aiden struggled, fingers fumbling over the keys to try and get the stupid door open and of course it had to be a pull and not a push.

"Open you stupid fucking door!" Aiden whispered shouted, mostly so his parents couldn't hear him screaming in terror like a little girl, but that was all for naught as his character's heartbeat picked up it's pace. With a hard yank of his mouse, Aiden managed to get the door open just as  what he could only describe as "the grudge" groan filled his ears and decaying hands appeared across his screen. He screamed, tumbling out of his chair and yanking his headphones right off his head.

"Aiden?" his father shouted from downstairs and embarrassment washed over him.

"I'm fine dad!" Groaning, Aiden climbed back to his feet and sat down in his chair. He grabbed his headphones and placed them back on, only to be greeted with the sounds of hysterical laughter.

"He fucking died dude! I can't believe it! That's ghosts 3, Aiden 0!" Jisung sounded way to happy about his death, and Aiden huffed in annoyance. It's not his fault he kept dying all the time. He wasn't a pro player like the other three. This was only his third round and he was still learning how play and what all the little noises and events mean. Besides, it was extremely hard to hide when fear was crippling his fingers and making him unable to open a simple door.

"Calm down Jisung and cut him some slack. He's never played this game before." Changbin spoke, his character appearing on the screen, looming over Aiden's body. "Aw Felix, our baby. Died at the hands of Barbra." Aiden couldn't help by frown at that. It sounded like Changbin was mocking him in a way, and he didn't like that. Changbin had been his only ally against his other boyfriend and Jisung.  And if Aiden didn't think that Changbin wasn't mocking him before, he certainly did when other started crouching over his body and basically T-bagging him. "At least we know what the room is now."  Changbin moved away from his body and made his way back to the room the ghost had crawled out of, Aiden following behind him within he ghost realm.

"We got freezing temps and EMF 5."

Taking out his journal, Aiden added the two pieces of evidence and scrolled through the selection of ghosts they could possibly have.

"Phantom or Banshee." Felix's voice came over the radio and Aiden could only nod in agreement. He really hated the fact that he could no longer communicate with the other three now that he was dead. It really did surprise him that it was only a phantom or banshee. With how quickly he died, he was sure it was a demon or maybe a yurei. In hindsight, it was pretty stupid to die early, but he had been stupid when trying to hide.

"Who has the camera?" Changbin asked as he walked in a circle a few times in the classroom before walking back out.

"I do. What room is it?" Jisung asked.

"First floor, left side, last room by the exit."

"Oh he found the exit ghost. And still couldn't escape." Jisung teased as Aiden frowned. He grabbed his phone and unlocked it to bring up his messages with Jisung and sent him emoji of the face with steam coming out of it's nose. It was only a few seconds later when Jisung's laughter rang out through the walkie talkie. "He sent me the fuming emoji! I love you too Aiden! Stop sucking at the game."

"Can we just get in and get out so we can get Aiden back please?" Changbin huffed. There were giggles of agreement, but Aiden really didn't care. He was happy that Changbin was standing up for him, in a sense. He could hug and kiss him if the other was there.

Sadly, he was not. The rest of the round went by pretty quickly, and Aiden zoned out for most of it unless the ghost was hunting. Then he was walking up and down the halls, following it as it chased the others into hiding. The last evidence they obtained was ghost orbs and it turned out he was killed by a phantom.  Stupid phantom Barbra.  Loading back in the lobby, Aiden was quick to press 'V' so he could go on his tirade.

"You know, I don't very much appreciate you laughing at me, Sungie." he growled out.

"Aw, I'm sorry chicken nugget, but it was funny. You died so quickly." Jisung snickered as he walked over and crouched up and down a few times in front of him.

"I hate you.  We're over." Aiden huffed and turned away, tilting his character to look up.

"No!!! Aiden, don't leave me. I thought what we had was special!"

Aiden couldn't help but giggle at that, shaking his head both in the game and in real life. Jisung really was a silly person and probably one of his favorite friends.

"So Felix, since when has our boyfriend been dating Jisung?" Changbin asked and Aiden could hear the half pout-half smirk in his voice. He was pretty sure Changbin was amused by their little bit, but at the same time either confused or upset? He wasn't sure which it was.

"Boyfriend? What boyfriend. I'm only dating you."

Aiden was quick to turn his character, gasping out into his microphone. "What?! No Lixie! Don't be like that, you know I love you!" It was disgustingly cute with how high Aiden made his voice during that statement, followed up by kissing noises. "I'm sorry."

"That's so gross. I'm gonna puke." Jisung muttered as he walked away from group. If Aiden could, he probably would have flicked the other off in game, but as it was, he couldn't. He would make a note to flick Jisung off the next time he saw him though, as an IOU.

"I think I just uwued all over the place." Felix laughed, his character moving closer to Aiden's and loud kissing noises nearly blew out Aiden's ears.

"Oh my god, Felix! My ears!" It was a simultaneous shout from the three other people, and all they received in return was Felix's airy laughter that warmed Aiden's heart. "Alright, let's ready up for the next mission. We're going to the asylum baby!" Aiden could only groan in annoyance, because of course that's where they would be going. Despite loving Felix, sometimes he really hated him.

@starryseung @yangomangos @channiewoo @juicylivy @amelee23 @mrbangchannie @luminouskalopsia @starlight-channie @sauceracha @skzwriternet

[404fmdminjung]

creative claims — weekend

summary: for @fmdjiah full composition / partial production. minjung’s friends with some bc A&R rep, and does a favor by sending in a few tracks made by her. warnings: none wc: 1059

don’t cross enemy boundaries, or that’s what the public wants you to think.

in hindsight, she’d raise the concession to that one. an exception when a phonecall with one of her friends, prop open in the middle of the night. “seo minjung~” the voice sing-songs against the quiet white noise of daybreak, and minjung can tell by the slur — her friend’s had one too many drinks.

“what are you calling me for? to be your dd?” minjung responds quietly.

“no~ i have a question… do you have any songs you want to throw my way?” 

“and give a song to bc? you forgot, i’m tied to gold star. sealed and kissed in a ribbon.”

“come on~ help a friend out.”

“get home safely, and take a certification shot. then, i’ll see what i can do.”

minjung hangs up the phone, settling aside in the nook beneath her desk. she goes back to the files stored on her harddrive, buried deep into the graveyard of songs once constructed never touched again. she takes a few listens, skims through the seconds of beats that leave her at a standstill — before she turns away to another file.

the first few rough beats, an attempt at city pop — she figures, it’s perfect for the weather. perfect for the year all year-round, any time of day.

(nobody tells you how to deal when your friend’s a bc a&r rep, and working on enemy lines).

-

the song starts itself when she drives through too many downhill rabbit holes of the internet. one youtube video to another, all following suit with the japanese city pop that drums through her speakers. it’s one of those heartwarming, feel-good genres — the kind that leaves you bumping on your toes, yanking the smile upwards on your face as you bop your head from one side to another.

and when inspiration strikes, she makes her own attempt at it.

she pulls the synth out, and figures — any type of music, it’s not made for her. it’s pure fun, just as music is supposed to be.

the first few notes of the electric guitar synth, play the base. a few chords in, drifting in an out in a continuous staccato — she marks that down, whatever lyrics used might be fun to ruffle with the tap tap tap of the staccatos here. because the basis of city pop, is the simpleness of complexities — the simple rhythm that follows a cohesiveness the full way through, mixed and funked by the synth and the over electro-sounds.

she tries to mimic it, but it doesn’t fit. instead, the pieces remain wayward and jagged, so by the time she draws a blank — she falls back into the percussion. the bass line comes as easy as palm slaps against the table, a steady metronome of a snare kick taking precedence as the bottom line of the song. now, the lines remain less jagged — somewhat obfuscated by the juxtaposition of electric lines and guitar. it lacks the softness, too much rigidity before she falls back to square one, palm in cheek staring at the busy screen.

it deals with the editing — or that’s what she thinks by the time her keyboard stows away, and she’s relieved those with the mouse clicks fishing from one filter to the next. the smoothness of city pop, and easy flow through of disco all crash down to the basics: one simple filter, overlaid by another until the emergence building up to what she perceives as the chorus.

so, by the time she hums along — incoherent words to no lyrics written, she goes with the hms and light fall of the verse into the chorus. the simple melody, carried from one to another — the guide vocals, void of any words. 

yet, there comes a standstill in the bleak wall after the first chorus. 

palms pressed to her face, it’s scrutinizing and imagining each piece not knowing the outcome of what the picture’s supposed to present. amorphous, the song becomes stagnated by the simple melody that graces through — until, she comes full-circle, decides a minuscule slice of a rap might hone in the missing edges.

no words written once more, she carries herself with the doo-dooo-doos of a rap, playing vocal metronome as her hands click away to remove the filter — leaving the raw electric guitar and the percussion at bay.

at this point, the song’s a half-mess. half-her own project coming to light. if given to gold star, she knows it’s a red flash of a no — impending. or maybe, it’s just the late night pessimism leaving the track on repeat as she closes her eyes and listens from start to finish. 

whatever it is, she realizes, it doesn’t hurt to add anymore. thinks, perhaps, creating a calamity of sounds, all brought together by the synths and the disco up-beat funk centralized in the song, wouldn’t hurt. but before her mind pieces it, her hands already move from the keyboard to the mouse. then back and vice versa — an ode to the retro oldies, there’s an addition of another layer added in the beginning. the sounds of an old-school cassette tape, cutting in then cutting out, the 32 bit filter, blurring out the hums of her voice to something scratchier.

it’s a resolution to bring her creation back to what it began as. an ode to the old city pop, added disco funk — something she colors pink.

the track has her on the edge of her seat, nodding her head to each beat of the percussion base and the overlay of the subtle backing vocals. the synth clocking right in the middle of the first verse, to the build up of the chorus. it’s ethereal, a dazed dream of cotton candy — lighting up her midnight blues with a grin across her face. 

yet, it’s not a song for her. just a prelude bite of her imagination, before she closes up her computer labeling the track “pink.” 

-

when she scans her files through songs, she goes one after another — flitting from one to the next. still, it’s the track titled “pink” that she turns back to. 

one drag of the file, and she sends it to her friend. one quick smirk before she types away “present. if this does well, you owe me.”

[inventors-fair]

New Year’s Resolutions: Group commentary

Welcome to the group commentary! As I said in the winner’s post, there were a lot of white cards in the inbox, and that’s an obvious sign that white needs a small rework to keep up with its buffed up brothers.

@misterstingyjack​ White does lover its planeswalkers and tying card draw with a powerful card type could be reasonable since card draw is white’s main weakness. However I would like it more if this loyalty extension was offered by a creature, so at least you can keep the game rolling.

@askkrenko​ MaRo has mentioned the “elemental” supertype quite a few times in podcasts etc, but its really too late to add this element to the game. But we’re here to dream and create, and Strike Twice would be a sick card, if not a staple, in that parallel universe. Also this is the most badass a Pichu has ever been XD

@ignorantturtlegaming​ There were no additional notes other than this crazy card in the inbox, so I can only guess that the creator wants more group-hug effects in red. I want to say Fires of Renewal is on the expensive side, but the effects it offers unconditionally are all very impactful. The Melvin in me appreciates all the instances of “2″ in the card!

@wolkemesser​ gave life to an ancient mtg character from the Shattered Chains book and boy, she’s a truly solid card. Ordando has decent stats and gives some additional staying power to monowhite decks. I like the whole flavor that is so tough that she can protect others and come back again, but the execution feels a little off to me, as discard and mill decks can abuse her in non white ways. Since we’re going for the flavor win, I would like it more if in order to protect something she exiled herself with a promise counter (which in turn allows her to be cast from exile.)

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes​ A disgustingly evil win more card? Sign me up! The philosophy of the card plays very nicely in black, especially with low cost high stated creatures that ask for their tribute every upkeep! Counterspells in black are a big stretch in my opinion, but no one can’t deny this card is a big flavor win!

@col-seaker-of-the-memiest-legion Speaking of counterspells, here’s another suggestion for them being in white. Many protective cards can be treated as counterspells, so we could find a loophole and treat this as a very wide protective spell. I think we could have cards like this in the future, but it’s still treacherous terrain because they must be so efficient that might replace blue’s role in the game.

@naban-dean-of-irritation​ I have mixed feelings about Korair. Flavor text matches with the card’s name quite nicely but it doesn’t connect with the actual gameplay. Also venturing into the unexplored “emblems matter territory” is surely exciting, but I don’t like the fact that is creates emblems by itself, and with that ease to boot!

@mardu-lesbian​ Hindsight is pitched as the blue/red shared keyword ability. I view it in a positive light, meaning I think it’s both flavorful and makes sense for those two colors, but it’s a bit unexciting that it matters only once in the creature’s life on the battlefield, while other shared keywords are combat related and have a greater impact in the game.

@deafeningsandwichpeach​ Hexproof for player is a rare sight, usually preserved for white and green, but there’s also Leyline of Sanctity and Witchbane Orb and this changes things to the point I would even tell this card is overcosted. Cost aside, I really like Seal into Darkness!

@snugz​ I would really love blue getting a combat ability that’s not straight evasion, but going full throttle to lure all creatures is a bit much, given that existing cards are usually uncommon. It could be like old fashioned provoke ( forcing a one on one fight) or even a numbered mechanic, like lure 1 or 3 etc, forcing 1 or 3 creatures to block.

@hypexion​ ​  Lapse of Certainty is definitely  a card, but there’s a reason why it was not repeated. Here, Mean’s to Delay, like Unexpectedly Absent, is an X spell where usually the correct way to ply it is for X=0, turning it into a slightly better counterspell. Not against counterspells in white, but be cautious.

@deg99 With this Angrath design, deg wanted to build more on the Rakdos color combination, through caring about stolen creatures and you know accidentally sacrificing them before returning them to their rightful owners. The power level is quite high, but it’s so enticing that I would gladly playtest this card to enjoy the crazy ride!

@hiygamer​ Sooner or later, we will see this card printed, I’m sure! When that time comes, I hope it costs a little less, and also that it has an equally inspiring flavor text! Really nice design!

@thedirtside Our friendly snailbear wanted magic to be a little more weird, and what’s weirder than a procrastinating Eldrazi, looming over the battlefield, doing it’s own things. Given, its practically impossible to interact with it and this takes away a lot of points per say, but I love suspend and bizarre triggers that feel like a disturbance in the Force. But we must cling to simpler things to make it happen.

@stormtide-leviathan​ The proposal of this design is sponsored by “Horse United” inc and pushes WOTC to pass an errata to merge all Pegasi, Unicorn and Horses into one race XD On the actual design, Swifting Steed is a real treat for limited!

@teaxch​ here tacling on the big issues of mtg, the shared keyword for blue and black! Feint is surely flavorful and it would make combats really interesting, but the main requirement for a shared keyword is to be able to mix with the other established keywords of the color pair. Blue and black have a lot of evasive abilities so an ability that matters when you’re blocked might not get the green light. That said, I definitely want to see this ability here and there in sets. A little guile spices things up! Also, neat flavor text XD!

@dimestoretajic​ With a quick read I was quite thrilled, but then I realized that you had collective care about itself. That leads into being a bit clunky, and also it goes from 0 to 100 in 1 sec because it’s either you have not 3 collective so no draw for you, or you got 3 , which means 3 triggers and thus 3 cards!! With a small tweak, this brave insect could be holding the fair’s coveted trophy!

@corporalotherbear

​ It’s true that there are some dryads that care about multicolored shenanigans, and I really like Manatwist Dryad playing into this space and establishing this trend. Because if green can’t care about multicolors, who can?

@fractured-infinity​ Edit: I forgot the commentary for this entry last night. My sincere apologies! A new card type is always an exciting gift for our inbox! Strongholds can die from damage like planeswalker do. They make sense in white and I could see them secondary in blue as large structures are products of community and science.

Watcher’s tower has two passive abilities, the vigilance granting requires 0 effort, while the buff requires you to “man” the stronghold with the garrison activated ability. I wish phasing was still relevant so the creatures would phase out instead of exiling themselves, because things can quickly get out of hand with blink shenanigans.

The +2/+2 buff might be a bit much because it isn’t that hard to get it online on turn 3. But all in all, Watcher’s Tower is very interesting and I hope Wizards will explore this space in the future.

@partlycloudy-partlyfuckoff Sometimes you see a mechanic and it’s not in the color it deserves to be. Mentor in Green seems like a perfect fit, and the non human clause gives this Leonin a greater sense of camaraderie. All in all a good design and future proposal.

@gollumni​ I saw this card in a very positive light with the first read. I like investigate after all, and I had good memories of it pulling its weight in Shadows over Innistrad, giving White a taste of the forbidden fruit that is card draw. But with the second read, I feel the card is too efficient, taping two creatures and two lands for an instant speed draw is quite good, and adding the overrun option felt a bit too much. But other than power level concerns, I really dig this design.

@corillion​ This might seem like an everyday card without context, but the change suggested involves first strike and double strike being relevant in fights. I’m all for it, but I got a feeling that the closer we will get to this is like a first strike lord that allows only first strikers deal damage in fights.

@kytheon4-4 said let there be hatebears, but we got hatebirbs instead XD but instead of harassing your opponent, this feathered boi plainly protects your side of the board so you get to play uninterrupted, but only on your turn. Fair and square.

@reaperfromtheabyss​ Ending the same way we started, with planeswalker support, this time in Red, as it is proposed to be the secondary planeswalker matters color. I can get behind this idea, as red has a sense of wanderlust thematically, and in terms of game, it cares about noncreature spells so planeswalkers are game too. On the card itself, the etb trigger is quite nice, even dealing two damage is fine. About the alternative loyalty ability, a mere ping is something that you would encounter on a weaker planeswalker, so it could at least be a + 2 loyalty ability, to ensure the survival of your planeswalker, as red isn’t really good at defending.

[freyayuki]

Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia Dimensions’ End Entropy Tier 11 Team

The first time I tried the Dimensions’ End Entropy Tier 11 Chaos quest fight in the Dissidia Final Fantasy (#ad): Opera Omnia (DFFOO) mobile game, I managed to win. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get the Perfect. Now I’m back to give this battle another try. Hopefully, I can get the Perfect this time.

Note: This is yet another one of those old drafts I finally managed to finish editing, so it’s now ready to be scheduled for publication.

Dimensions’ End Entropy Tier 11 Initial Team

I used the following characters when I tried this stage for the first time:

Jack (from Final Fantasy Type-0) - double Purple, fully MLB

Snow Villiers (from Final Fantasy XIII) - Purple, fully MLB

Lenna Charlotte Tycoon (from Final Fantasy V) - base Ex only, fully MLB

Everyone has their Bloom Stone and all of their passives and extensions equipped. Both Snow and Jack have all 7 of their Summon Boards completed while Lenna only has 5. She’s missing the stats and passives from Pandemonium and Diabolos.

Jack has 3 attack 108 with Positive Swordsman Boost★★ Artifacts.

Snow has 3 attack 108 with max brave 330 Artifacts.

Lenna has 1 attack 108 with initial brave 170, 1 initial brave 170 with max brave 330, and 1 initial brave 170 with Bravery Wind Drake Arrow★★ Artifacts.      

Dimensions’ End Entropy Tier 11 Initial Clear

The following are the mission requirements for this Chaos fight:

Get a score of 580,000 or higher

Finish the battle without anyone being killed

Win within 105 turns

Take 10,000 or less HP damage

You’re supposed to get all of them at once or in the same battle in order to get the Perfect.

In my first try, I managed to get all but one of these requirements. What I failed to get was the turn count. The fight ended on the 106th turn. Needless to say, it was so frustrating to be just one turn over the requirement. I was so, so close to Perfecting this Tier.

Dimensions’ End Entropy Tier 11 Notes and Observations from Failed Run

Lenna’s BRV Attack+ can battery the party, but since her Ex hasn’t even been Realized, she hardly gives her teammates any brave, and this is especially the case if enemies are near death and their invisible stat buffs have already been activated.

In short, instead of attempting to battery the party, I should just focus on dumping Lenna’s brave even if it means she might get broken. 

Wind Drake’s Ward, the buff from Lenna that gives the team 100% immunity from all debuffs, is very useful in this Tier. And it’s definitely a good thing to make sure it doesn’t fall off or expire, otherwise my charas will be inflicted with all sorts of annoying and debilitating debuffs like Confuse and Attack Down.

However, instead of making sure that Jack always had Wind Drake’s Ward, I should have focused my attention on making sure the buff was always active on Snow. In fairness, the buff never actually fell off of him since he wasn’t the type to steal lots of turns and Lenna was always refreshing the buff for Jack long before it had the chance to expire on both her and Snow.

The thing is Snow was my party’s tank. He took all the single target attacks, protecting both Jack and Lenna. So he was the one who would have been inflicted with debuffs had Lenna’s Wind Drake’s Ward expired. 

The only time I should worry about whether the buff was active on Jack or not was whenever the enemies were targeting the entire party. Even then, as long as I made sure that Jack had his 100% Evasion Up buff from casting his Ex, then there was nothing to worry about since all the attacks would end up missing him.

All of Snow’s moves have the same percentage of overflow, including his HP Attack++. This resulted in me usually using his HP Attack++ unless I needed to refresh his buffs with Steelguard or I needed a quick heal via Froststrike. 

This wasn’t entirely the wrong call as I do need to save skill uses. However, in hindsight, I should have tried to use Snow’s abilities a bit more instead of relying on his HP Attack++ pretty much all the time. Using either Steelguard or Froststrike would have allowed Sovereign Fist to charge faster. This would have let me deal more damage, especially because Snow is at Ex+ 3/3.

Being broken by the enemy a few times shouldn’t pose much of a problem. Instead of using Jack’s BRV Attack++ even though his Deliverance attack will not proc, I should go straight to using his HP Attack++ or one of his abilities since it’s necessary to deal as much damage as possible in a short amount of time in order to end the battle within the turn count requirement.

It’s also important to find a balance between being aggressive when it comes to dealing damage and being conservative when it comes to saving skill uses. In my first run, I ended up being a bit too aggressive in the first few waves. I basically spammed skills for everyone so by the time they arrived at the third wave, they were nearly out and that was only when I decided to be more conservative with their abilities. 

By the end, they all still ran out of skills anyway. Lenna was out before the fight was over. Snow had 1 use of Froststrike left. Jack finished the final boss with his last Ninja Slice.

In my first run, I ended up Summoning Shiva on the last wave. It’s not exactly a bad idea, but maybe it would have been better to Summon on the third wave since there are 2 enemies there as opposed to only 1 in the final wave. 

Dimensions’ End Entropy Tier 11 Try 2 Team 2

For my second try of Dimensions’ End Entropy Tier 11, I decided to bring the same team as before. Nothing has changed with their stats and passives except I was able to finish Lenna’s Diabolos Summon Board so she now has 6 Boards completed.

This time, I was more conservative when it came to using everyone’s abilities in the first 2 waves. This was especially the case with Jack since he was the team’s main and primary damage dealer.  

I tried to take advantage of Jack’s follow-up attack, Deliverance, as much as possible. If he breaks an enemy using either his BRV Attack++ or his HP Attack++, then Deliverance will proc. If he attacks a broken enemy or breaks an enemy with either of his abilities, then Deliverance will proc.

So whenever an enemy could be broken, I tried to make it so that Jack would be the one to break them using either his HP Attack++ or his BRV Attack++. I no longer tried to keep him from being broken. I always focused on dumping any brave he had so he was always dealing damage during every one of his turns.

I let Jack take all the turns he could even if it meant the Wind Drake’s Ward buff on him would expire. I did make sure it was up whenever enemies targeted the entire party and his 100% Evasion Up buff wasn’t currently active. As it turned out, I didn’t have to worry about him being hit with any debuff.

Jack’s Ex charges Slow, but at least he gets a free skill use after casting it. This definitely helps with his longevity, especially since I was already being conservative with his abilities and spacing out their use as much as possible.

Even with 6 Summon Boards, Lenna didn’t deal much damage at all. Not exactly surprising considering she’s only at base Ex and we’re talking about Chaos-level opponents here. 

Nevertheless, Lenna did contribute to the team via her auras and buffs. Her HP Regen is nothing to scoff at. It’s really high, so even if someone takes HP damage, they’re soon back to full health within a few turns. Her party-wide 100% debuff immunity was a godsend so I never had to worry about anyone being inflicted with annoying debuffs like Confuse or Attack Down.

She doesn’t battery much at all, especially not when using her BRV Attack+, so I didn’t bother to use it during this fight. I just used her skills or her plain HP Attack. I was always dumping her brave without a care that she might get broken. This was so I was always dealing as much damage as I could.

Her Ex charges Slow, and it doesn’t hit that hard at all, but at least it batteries the party a bit more than her BRV Attack+. The party-wide brave regen from Lenna’s Wind Drake’s Ward and Princess of Tycoon buffs also helped so everyone always had some brave at the start of their turn.

Snow did his job very well as the party’s tank. He protected Lenna and Jack from all single target brave and HP hits. His Hotblooded Hero buff even reduces the HP damage the team takes, which was super helpful for whenever any of their opponents manages to hit them with an HP attack. 

Usually, Snow is the one being hit with the attacks since he forces or taunts all the enemies into targeting him. Sometimes, their opponents target everyone though this wasn’t much of a problem.

Snow gets some brave back every time he uses one of his moves, so he usually avoids being broken, especially since his Steelguard buff reduces the brave damage he takes. After an enemy hits him 5 times, he’ll be taking 0 brave damage thanks to this buff.

There was one time wherein the Lunatic Rafflesia was targeting everyone. Jack didn’t have his 100% Evasion Up buff, so he ended up being broken. Lenna was broken as well. Snow was the only one who didn’t get broken, but he didn’t escape unscathed.        

The Lunatic Rafflesia managed to get enough brave to one-shot someone multiple times over. On his turn, he attacked Snow because, of course, he was targeting Snow.

Snow was at full HP and the attack dropped him down to 1. He would have died had it not been for his Last Stand passive. This lets him survive a fatal attack if he has at least 50% of his max HP. Instead of dying, he’ll just be dropped down to 1 HP. 

Honestly, I’d practically forgotten that Snow has a Last Stand passive. Definitely super pleased that he has one though. If he didn’t, I would have had to restart this fight. Snow’s Froststrike and Lenna’s HP Regen had him back to full health in a few turns.

I tried to alternate between using either one of Snow’s abilities or his HP Attack++. This was to ensure that I could cast his Ex as often as possible. Thankfully, it does charge pretty fast.

On the third wave, I started being a bit more aggressive when it came to using everyone’s skills. Coming into the third wave, Jack had around 5 Ninja Slice and 5 Lightning Flash left. I started spamming his Lightning Flash here since it dealt AoE damage. I decided to save his Ninja Slice for the last wave where there was only one opponent.  

I also decided to Summon Shiva during the third wave. I thought it was better to Summon here since there are 2 Lunatic Deathgaze whereas I only need to deal with 1 Lunatic Atlas in the final wave.

Thankfully, Snow’s Sovereign Fist and Jack’s Transience were ready to be cast during the Summon, so I took full advantage of that and dealt as much damage as I could. 

I Summoned Shiva pretty early in the third wave, way before either of the health bars of the Lunatic Deathgaze were in the red. So when the Summon ended, neither were dead yet though I had been able to deal a significant amount of damage to both.

It was around turn 77 when I reached the final wave of the fight. Lenna only had 1 Rapid Fire+ and 1 Wind Drake Arrow+ left. Snow had 3 Steelguard and 3 Froststrike left. Sovereign Fist was charged and ready to be cast. Jack had 5 Ninja Slice and 3 Lightning Flash left. 

This was the first time he got to move after casting Transience in the previous wave, so he could use an ability for free on this turn. Since this was the last battle, I was more aggressive when it came to using everyone’s abilities. Pretty soon, Lenna was all out of skills, and I was left with no choice but to use her plain HP Attack until Brave Phoenix was charged. 

I refrained from using her BRV Attack+ unless she had 0 brave, which had yet to happen since her buffs, which gave her brave regen, were thankfully still up. So as long as she had brave, I just HP Attack to dump it all instead of wasting a turn using her useless BRV Attack+ since that doesn’t battery much at all. 

I forgot the exact turn, but somewhere around the 90s maybe, when the health bar of the Lunatic Atlas was getting on the low side already, I made full use of Jack’s utility to manipulate turns. I basically just kept spamming his remaining skills so he’d always proc Deliverance so the boss would never get a turn. 

Well, I did cast Transience when it was charged, so the boss might have snuck in a turn or two. As soon as it was Jack’s turn again, I went right back to spamming his skills, so he’d keep taking all the turns. Soon, even he was running out of abilities.

By turn 101, he he had 0 Lightning Flash and 2 Ninja Slice left. Thankfully, Transience was fully charged and the Lunatic Atlas was close to dying. Also, thankfully, casting Transience was enough to kill the boss. 

The fight ended on turn 102. Phew. It was a pretty close call. I was worried I wouldn’t make it again. I’m really happy I was able to do it this time. Managed to get all the mission requirements, allowing me to Perfect Dimensions’ End Entropy Tier 11. Yahoo!

Super pleased about this, to say the least. I did end up with a lower score compared to my first try, but so what? It doesn’t matter. What mattered was getting the Perfect and finally being done with this Tier.

Conclusion

So, what about you? Who did you use to Perfect Dimensions’ End Entropy Tier 11? Did you also have trouble with this Chaos quest? 

Feel free to share your thoughts and opinions by leaving a comment or by reblogging this post.

Notes:

pics are from Amazon.com; links shown above

screenshots are from my Dissidia Final Fantasy: Opera Omnia game account

[charlicpace]

GIF PACK POLL RESULTS !

so, as you’ve probably seen over the last few days if you follow me, i posted a survey a few days ago about gif packs and people’s relationships with reblogging them. i mostly posted it out of curiosity, as i’d noticed a few patterns over the years and wanted to see what some actual, physical data would look like, and the lovely @stevienick pointed out that the results would be useful for fellow gif makers, so here we are ! i wasn’t sure if anybody would respond, so thank you to everybody who did & a very big thank you to everybody who boosted the post ! i’m very grateful ♡

quick note:

it might be easier to view the results if you add /mobile to the end of the url, as i know a contained theme can squish things sometimes ! i’m gonna talk about the results of each question a little, but of course you are more than free to ignore my ramblings and just observe for yourself, and you can ctrl +f to the questions if you’re looking for results for a specific one !

the results: 

DO YOU REBLOG GIF PACKS?

i looked at how the results were doing whenever i had a free moment when the survey was up, and i think i ended up checking on it about eight or so times in that time, and in the first twelve hours or so, ‘i will like but not reblog’ had no votes, so it’s very interesting to me that as time went on and more people responded, this changed ! while the other questions are helped by the poll only being taken by people that do interact with gif packs in terms of notes, i do wish maybe a couple of people who won’t like, reblog, etc no matter what, had responded, but i’m glad they didn’t as that means that people ( or at least those people who filled out the survey ) are following gif makers’ rules, and that’s fantastic. 

WHY WOULD YOU REBLOG A GIF PACK?

i feel like i want to start everything with ‘this was really interesting, because...’ but it all was ! i found everything really interesting, especially watching the majorities change over time, but something specifically that i found myself thinking Hmm,,, Inch Resting™ while observing, was the most popular responses shifting and changing over time. admittedly, for some reason, i wasn’t expecting so many people to admit to reblogging a gif pack of a person they’ve never seen before just because they’re attractive, and i don’t know why, as there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that ! it just surprised me ! but, unsurprisingly, the results show that the vast majority of people are more likely to reblog a gif pack of a fc they like, and that makes nothing but sense to me. i do love, though, that the vast majority of people just want to show appreciation for the work put into gif packs. 

the ‘other’ responses:

the ‘i wouldn’t’ confused me for half a second, but i’m assuming it came from one of the people who said they like the gif packs but don’t reblog them -- in hindsight, i definitely should’ve included an ‘n/a’ option ! to find later is a very valid answer, and i think i should’ve included that in ‘because i want to use the gifs’ -- i think those responses are similar enough to be included in the same umbrella, so i’d just image the yellow bar being a little bit longer, and the percentages going up a smidgen, if you’re wanting to use this data to your advantage. to spread awareness of more fc’s is definitely an option i should’ve included in hindsight ! lots of gif makers make wonderful gifs of people the rpc may not know all that much about, so signal boosting them and letting the world know they have resources is a great reason to reblog a pack, and works nicely as a ‘hey there’s no excuse for not having diversity in your rp, look at this cute person with nice gifs’ and i definitely hadn’t thought of that when typing up the questions !

WHERE DO YOU FIND THE GIF PACKS YOU REBLOG?

i should’ve worded this better, by acknowledging that ‘likes’ also count here, but it seems as though those who said they like but don’t reblog got the gist of what i was going for, and answered that way for me anyway. basically, what i meant by this one was ‘if you’re interacting with a gif pack, where did you find it?’ 

anyway, unsurprisingly, the vast majority of people find gif packs either on their dash, or in the tags, and i feel like a lot of us take this into consideration when posting our packs. more people are going to see the post if it’s posted on a friday or saturday evening, than 11am on a tuesday, even with timzeones taken into consideration, and we use that knowledge to our advantage already.  

the ‘other’ responses:

makes sense, but it does make me wonder where the original posts were found in the first place !

the end result was nothing surprising, i don’t think. i think the limit of having five functioning tags is a little limiting when trying to get packs out there. i usually tag ‘#fc name gif hunt #fc name gif pack #gif pack #rph’ and then a wildcard. sometimes it’s the fc’s name, and i try and make an educated-guess-type-of-judgement on whether that one’s a good idea. sometimes it’s another one of the rpc tags. this question is one of the ones that i was really glad i included an ‘other’ option, as i think they’re very useful for the most part. 

the ‘other’ responses:

tags like gmcentral and gifpackshq are great because they can be used by anybody, and after seeing the results, i’m wondering if i personally might swap out some of my usual tags in favour of them ! tags such as tasksweekly and gifpacknetwork are wonderful, and we know to use them when applicable. i do love that all four of those tags are being used even by the people who aren’t running those blogs associated with them, in favour of finding more resources. i didn’t know that people still actively searched for faces and gif packs in tags like ‘underused fc’ -- and any tags like that -- so that one was super interesting, and definitely something i’m going to think about ! and while i like that people are using icons ( i love me a good rp icon, don’t get me wrong ) this poll is specifically about gif packs, so do with that data what you will. 

WHAT INFORMATION TO FIND YOU FIND HELPFUL WHEN INCLUDED IN THE POST?

i know i said i’d practically be saying this for every one, but this was really interesting. it’s also another time when i think that hindsight is wonderful, because i think now i should’ve included a question asking how often someone will click the link to view the gifs, and if it’s only if they plan on using them, or they might click the link to see what the others look like beyond the preview before reblogging, but close the page after a few have loaded and they can see that everything looks fine, etc. the reason i say this now, is because i know that some people include this information on the page the gifs are stored on, but not in the post, and i’m wondering if it makes a difference. however, the question did ask what information is helpful in the post, so i’m going to keep that in mind when looking at the results. i think this is one of the questions hat i found most helpful to me personally, as i don’t include the the three most popular results in the post. the second and third most popular, i include on the gif page, but i don’t put any of the top three in the post, and i should think about changing that. 

the ‘other’ responses:

it was when the ‘others’ started rolling in that i realised that i should’ve worded the question better. it should’ve been ‘what extra information do you find helpful...’ and i’m glad some folks pointed it out, as i deem trigger/content warnings to be a necessity. to me, the basic information would be name of the fc, how any gifs are in the pack, the source material, and then any content warnings, and anything else is just extra information, but i didn’t say that, so i’m very glad people mentioned trigger warnings and the number of gifs in a pack - thank you ! 

WHAT’S YOUR PREFERRED METHOD OF ACCESSING THE GIFS IN A PACK?

for quite a while, a download link had absolutely no votes -- in the end, it only got four, but it’s nice to know that people do still use them ! other than that, i don’t think this one was at all surprising, but still helpful to see it written down.

PLEASE SELECT ALL STATEMENTS YOU AGREE WITH... 

this one was fascinating. nearly half of people only reblog gif packs of fcs they like, lots of people care more about bumping faces of colour and nb and/or trans fcs than plus sizes or disabled ones, lots more people admitted to being more inclined to reblog a gif pack if they find the fc attractive than i thought would, and the number of people saying that they’re not more likely to reblog younger fcs than older was a lot less than i thought --- i’m sure i’m not the only one who’s noticed that gif packs of younger faces tend to get more notes than those of older, even if you take out any other variables that could skew that number. all very interesting results, and results i think we’ll all find useful. it’s also nice to see that people tend to care more about accessibility than about aesthetics, with more people having an ‘upper size limit’ for gifs than having a lower one, and it’s nice that 93% of people are fine with reblogging gifs of people they’ve never heard of and opening themselves up to new faces !

DO YOU MAKE GIF PACKS?

so i added this one on the end to see if the results would differ based on whether the person responding makes gifs ( in my head, i was wondering if gif makers are more likely to seek out other people’s gifs to reblog to support other gif makers, and things like that ! ) so it’s very interesting and helpful to know that, while not equal, there’s a good chunk on both ends of the spectrum, and some folks in the middle who make gifs but not packs, or edit gifs into gif icons. 

end of results ! if anybody wants to talk about anything to do with the above info, or has any questions, i’m more than happy to chat ! i think i’m going to use some of this information in the future, and hopefully it’s helpful to fellow gif makers out there ! i don’t want to be too ‘in conclusion...’ about all of this, but i do just want to say that it’s very interesting to see written down, with actual evidence, that there are a lot of factors into why someone may or may not reblog a gif pack, and why some packs do better than others ( obviously, a gif pack posted by someone with 1000 followers will do better than someone with 100, even if it’s of the same quality and posted at the same time; more people are going to see it. but i mean more stripping it back to the things we can control like tags used and the layout of the post etc ) and i think if i were to do this again, there are things i’d add ( maybe preference for number of gifs previewed on the post, size/dimensions preference, and things like that ? ) and things i’d clarify, but in general i’m really pleased with how insightful this has been, and if i say interesting one more time i think i may combust, but it legitimately has all been very interesting. again, thank you very much to everyone who responded, and i hope others find this helpful or at least interesting !

[sqsupernova]

Author Interview – Shadowdianne!

We sat down with @shadowdianne​ to talk about Of deals, magic and secrets, their process, and their Supernova adventure!

What inspired your story?

The short answer is my love for victorian-esque novels. The story has a lot of nods to that aesthetic even if on the final version of it I took most of them out as they halted the pacing quite a lot. The long-ish answer involves a story I wrote about Emma and Regina some time ago with Emma being a thief and Regina asking for her help. It didn't have the same elements that later appear on ODMS but the "flavour" of the chracters remained on the back of my mind; Regina being a recent widowed woman, Emma being quite a famous thief... Last year I wrote a steampunk-influenced story and by the time I began to put words down and shape where the story wanted to go that mix between magic and reality assaulted me. I wanted to write a mystery once again but the plot of who had murdered Leopold didn't quite convince me, the lore or the show already answers that after all, so as I began to erase and write the detail of the ring, something I had added as a nod to that story I've written, came back to me. The moment I started fleshing out the whys and hows the story was more or less set on the final version I ended up posting. 

How do you form your stories? Do you outline beforehand or write by the seat of your pants? Do you write linearly or out of order?

For long stories I write an outline of, at least, where and how I want for the major plot points to be and go. I'm flexible, however, and if I see that a certain moment requires more scenes I will add more. Characters can be pesky things that make you re-think again entire scenes that you thought you already had finished. On shorter and more linear stories  I rarely bother with writing more than a few lines here and there of dialogue and setting. Very much like the notes on a play. For Deals I wrote an outline however as there were different things that needed to have a certain space within the plot.[The Lost Boys, Emma's second meeting with Regina, Regina's inner thoughts on the first part of the story as the police interrogates her about Leopold's death...] I also tend to write the scene I want to write the most at the beginning, let the chemistry between characters and stoy begin to work and then start from the top of my outline, going slowly down until I surpass the scene. In that way I feel like I spot the core of the story pretty early on so I can weave everything else around it without the climax getting on my way. Sometimes it works some other times there are several cores so I need to do this more than once. It also helps me with the description of a place as I quickly build that up around the dialogue, which is very important for me.

What in your fic are you most proud of?

Probably the details regarding the Lost Boys. That was a subplot that I dropped precisely on Metallic Ink [The fic I wrote for last year's edition] and I'm quite proud of it even if I needed to re-shape it into this fic's background and lore.Is there anything you'd change now?

I wouldn't rely so heavily on Leopold's death as an opening and would start with a 3rd person POV focused on Emma as she reads about the death before jumping back to Regina. That could have maybe given another perspective on where the story was going to go. At the same time I think Regina needed a very quick characterization and the "prologue" helps with that. Still, I would add some tweaks to that first part as well as adding more information once Emma discovers that Regina is hiding things from her. I had several more scenes planned out that in hindsight, should have been added at the end.How do you deal with writers' block?

I'm awful at dealing with it. I stop writing for a few days once I feel completely burned out and I focus myself on reading, playing some videogames, going out and running... even reading about historical details, artistic movements... I'm very visual on my writing and sometimes seeing a particular story develop on a game or a detail on a picture makes me begin to wonder how it could be described, how it could fit inside a story and then I'm back again.Was this Supernova experience different than your typical writing experience?

It's not my first supernova so I already knew what to expect. However, my internet being out for almost two and a half months made it quite... interesting to say the list.

Any advice to other writers who might want to write a longfic, or participate in Supernova next year?

You can read Of deals, magic and secrets on AO3, along with Shadowdianne’s other works! And don’t forget to feed the author!

Breathe. There are going to be moments that you are going to want to erase everything and start again with a total different story while fearing is too late. Or maybe even think about dropping out. And if you end up doing that there is no shame in that. When fear begins to settle I usually break down the amount of words I need to write until the numbers stop dancing inside my head. 10K can seem daunting but they are less than one might think once you start writing the story and, despite what may look like no one who is doing this for a second, third, fourth or fifth -BigBang anyone?- time is sane. We all are afraid of sucking and writing a story that is not compelling. Speaking to other writers can help. A lot. And if you are someone who doesn't feel intimidated I really rec going into the chat the mods provide during the months of the SuperNova and write and share your experience. Even if the only thing you have to say about that day's writing is how you ended up reading some inane thing about something related to what you wanted to write on reddit. That's completely fine.   I like to think that the SuperNova is very much like NaNoWriMo; it can be stressful but everyone has a different way of making it so go slow and steady and you will be able to make it .

[reflectivejournalbymyy]

Week 9 (26/10 - 30/10)

MONDAY

Unfortunately I wasn’t attending school or conducted any school work today due to some personal things happening. 

TUESDAY

First day of the week since I wasn’t here yesterday, We are starting a new sketch to try to evoke the movement of ducking. We have been talking about having a rectangle drop from the top of the canvas forcing you to duck in order to avoid it. If you failed the rectangle would turn red, again, to indicate that something is wrong. To this we want to add an annoying noise as well too see if sound can affect you movement to. Since none of us had been working with a sound library before it took some time to set up but with the help of another group that was merely with sound it started working. When the library was actually in the code and we could use it, it wasn’t too bad to just add the noise to the if statements if you touched the rectangle. 

What we noticed when trying this ourselves was that this wasn’t really affecting us at all. It could have been because it is our project and we knew what we were exploring but it just didn’t feel right. I gave the suggestion to have something shoot out from the edge of the screen instead and see if that was better. Coding wise these were not heavy sketches to make. We had all the basic movement from the earlier sketches so we just implemented the moving rectangle and had it shoot out from the left side of the canvas.

We just put people in front of this sketch without saying anything about what was going to happen and people actually started moving. This felt like a huge win. Maybe this is what we should have done earlier. Quick simple sketches to just see how we could get people to move based in instinct. We tried removing the video but with this we noticed that it just caused a feeling of non attachment so we put it back right away. Here you got more affected if you could see your surrounding space as if the rectangle was there with you. Unfortunately we have no more videos of this as we went around to as many as possible and did quick tests to see if it worked. In almost all tests the participant ducked from the moving object.

WEDNESDAY

Today was a fine tuning day and journal writing day. We spent most of the day just fine tuning the code, and the speed, size and location of the rectangle to make it feel smooth. We also added sound but in hindsight is was very unnecessary. It added nothing, no one ever managed to trigger it. The rest of the day we spent journaling and trying to catch up. I have been terrible at journaling this time and keep slacking behind a lot. I know it’s going to bite me in the behind when the deadline is closing up (edited  6/11: it sure did). I think it is because my partner is working nights and I usually leave school around 3pm to have a chance to see him for a bit before he leaves, and then I have a really hard time to focus at home. Next course if we have the journal I’m going to start staying until at least 5pm and spend the last hour on journaling only.

THURSDAY

It’s the last day before show ‘n’ tell and we have a lecture in the afternoon which means we have to focus before then to finish up the presentation. This time they have said that we have to be able to present on Zoom since there are a couple of student studying at a distance. I think it’s great to include them a little but more because I feel like they have missing out a bit by not being here. So we made a couple of last minute videos and started writing on what we are going to say. We are splitting it up evenly. I will start and then my partner comes in, I will come back, say some stuff in the middle and then he will finish it off. I like this because I have been last in the two previous presentations so it’s a nice change. We made sure to have everything that we are showing on video for it to not take up too much of our time, and then there is no chance of a live showing to fail. I will add my notes, if that’s interesting, I have no idea. But I don’t have that much to write about today.

I had a hard time to follow along in the lecture because I was setting up the powerpoint and also finishing up what I needed to say. But they talked about AI and how it can never get a full understanding of the world like we humans have. He compared AI to birds. I there was suddenly a plane crash we would see that something has happened here and this is not normal. A bird would just land on the plane having no thought of anything being out of the ordinary.

[cessanderson]

Adding some color to the entry https://ift.tt/3bUXapx Sara @ Russet Street Reno What a strange time to be alive!  With the corona virus shut down eliminating my photography business, I've been going a little crazy like most people.  We are a very extroverted and social family, so we've been trying to get outside to say hi to neighbors, but still be safe.  In all this uncertainty, I have found myself very uninterested in editing photos I've taken of my kids, being on the computer for any length of time, and being creative in general.  I just have lacked the drive, and the kids (and cleaning up after them) take up so much of my time!  Luckily, I finally have a project that got me excited to share.  For the last five years, I've been walking in my front door and staring at an empty wall at the bottom of the stairs.  Like this....

I bought a few items for this wall a few years ago (haha classic Sara move) and they have sat in a basket since then.  My problem was that I wanted to add color to this little wall, but I didn't want to continue the color ALL the way down to the family room since it's all connected.  I dreamed up trim/ moldings, sharpie designs, all kinds of ways to stop the color here...but nothing really resonated with me.  Then I saw some wall inspiration in one of my photography groups, and this idea was born.  I love it so much!

I love making our ugly raised ranch cute ONE SPACE AT A TIME!  The idea of this technique is to blur the line between the two colors (usually white, but SW Popular Gray in my case) with paper towels and brushes, and make a watercolor type design.  When I first decided I wanted to do this, I took stock of the paint samples I had in my house to minimize my time at Home Depot.  I had these three colors and a quart of my popular gray paint to try it out on cardboard:  from top to bottom, BM Hale Navy, BM Newburg Green, and SW Gale Force that we used in our master bath in Minnesota.

Hale Navy was too purple-y/navy, Newburg was too green (but I still liked it a lot) and Gale Force was the best of both worlds!  I didn't quite have enough to do the project, so I made a quick trip to Home Depot and vowed to never go back until things were back to normal.  We also needed a new wax ring for our main bathroom because our toilet was leaking, so I justified my 'essential' trip that way.  I bought this quart and a whole gallon of SW Creamy for our main bathroom, which is a very boring post for another day.  We did end up replacing our very first was ring, and we were successful!  Here is my starting point for this project:

I recommend lightly drawing in pencil where you want the 'line' to go ahead of time, I didn't do that at first and the second wall turned out much better with a guideline!  I put the gray right next to my wet line, and then used a paper towel to smear the colors around.

I also used a flat brush that I got with my fusion mineral paints, it worked nice for the more 'sponge painted' areas. 

In hindsight, I should've applied the gray to the entire wall on the right side before doing this part.  It's also tricky because the dark colors require two coats, and it's almost impossible to do that after it dries without seeing the shiny brush strokes where you touched it up!  I look at it as extra texture and not a big deal. 

I tried to add areas where the white went farther into the blue to add interest, some work better than others, but I love the randomness of it all. 

Stupidly, I forgot to take photos of the wall without the other elements up, so I apologize.  I was so eager to add my decor!  The star is a Smallwoods wooden sign, which is a photo I took during our trip to Rocky Mountain National park last year.  I love this, because I didn't want anything with glass to show a strong glare as this area is hit with sunlight all day.  I chose a portrait crop to fit into the blue part of the wall better and leave more room for my shelf and hooks.  As you can see, Smallwoods added saturation, exposure, and changed the coloring of the mountains to be quite aqua, which is sort of disappointing.  However, it still looks beautiful so I won't complain too much. 

The shelf is another one of the cool acrylic shelves from CB2 that I used in my office nook.  I love these shelves, and they are so great for tight areas where you can't have a shelf stick out too far.  They are also great for containing things with the tall raised edge.  I love leaning photo frames against them, and I'm on the hunt for the perfect frame(s) since this one is just a placeholder. 

The hooks were a Target find, and they are amazing quality and price!  I made a simple template out of posterboard to make sure they were lined up correctly.  I spaced them out to perfectly fit under the 24" shelf, then poked holes through the paper and attached this to the wall in order to drill. 

I love how solid these are!  I used a very small drill bit to make the holes, so I didn't even need to use anchors.  The thought of putting 8 anchors into the wall was not appealing.  Side note, the center screw of the shelf did catch a stud, so I didn't use anchors for those, either! 

It turned out exactly as I had pictured in my mind.  Love the texture of the white paint behind the decor.  I did choose to keep decor elements simple as the wall painting is a busy feature in itself!

And after this wall was done, I realized I needed to continue this over the door to the other wall.  It just didn't make sense all alone, but once I did the stair wall, it was perfect!

I did a slight 'wave' shape with the blue, and it's beautiful!  I love how this technique allows me to keep my house mostly light with just a small amount of drama painted on. 

Here are some glamour shots!

It looks pretty with the light on, too.  I love this light, even though it barely clears the door. 

Here are some before and afters of this fun little redo!

Just for fun, here is a throw back 'before' and after!  Oh em gee, those were dark times.  Literally. 

Let me know what you think of my little project!  Hope you all are safe and healthy!

[halekingsourwolf]

Hi, I was the anon who asked about the consequences of the Darach and the Alphas influencing Derek's mind. I had kind of assumed, that the Alphas' influence on Derek wouldn't be just a temporary thing as in once and done, but more succesively. So , I had thought that if the Darach started to, as well, that there would've been some seriously conflicting memories, some of those might've even negated each other and led to confusion and maybe even discovery by the influenced party. (1/3)

Though, I have to admit I didn't really think through how the Alphas would go about altering someone's memories. I guess, the canon understanding of it is the whole putting one's claws in their neck, right? So that would likely mean that the influence definitely isn't over a longer period but very immediately.

However, if that is the way the Alphas go about altering everyone's memories, there's the problem with the humans (Stiles and Lydia), who wouldn't have instant healing to make any such wounds disappear at once. I doubt Derek would just not acknowledge these wounds, as he's well aware what they mean, so they couldn't really do that to Stiles and Lydia. Which, I think, would likely end with them figuring out what's happening. I certainly can't imagine Stiles letting go of the fact that he can't remember Cora, either. Or do you think Morrell would actually gain a more active role by altering these two's memories?

Hey anon, thanks for writing again :D

For your first point, I do think the Cora memories were probably just inserted once –– like you said, through the claws in neck method. But even if they pulled Derek back in later for edits and touch-ups, I don’t think anything done by the Darach or the pack would have negatively impacted each other’s influence. Just the opposite.

Because Jennifer wasn’t working on Derek’s memories at all. She didn’t create any past connection to him or make him think they’d known each other before, so I can’t see conflicting false memories having been a problem. (Though, on that note, was everyone else hardcore expecting Jennifer to somehow be Paige? Because I was.) All she did was lower Derek’s defenses and inhibitions, compelling him to trust her while he’s normally the furthest thing from open and trusting, and making him more open to her influence. Which is something that would have helped the Alpha pack immensely as far as messing with Derek’s memories. Making him more suggestible, more trusting, making it easier for someone to slip under his skin. So I don’t think Jennifer’s manipulations would have damaged the Alphas’ memory alterations at all; if anything, it might have made Derek more emotionally open and more willing to accept Cora without questions. After all, he’s already doing the same thing with Jennifer.

The Stiles and Lydia question is a really good one, though...

My first thought would be that maybe their memories weren’t messed with, and the pair of them just trusted Derek and Peter when they said who Cora was. After all, making Isaac forget an encounter with the Alpha pack is a far jump from adding an entire false person into someone’s memories, and I don’t know that anyone would make a quick jump from “huh, I didn’t know he had a younger sister” to “she and all of his memories of her must not be real!” (Outside of fandom, obviously :P) They could have assumed she’d been home schooled or was going to a private school, and after all both those things just feel more likely when you don’t think about them too much.

In support of this: if Stiles and Lydia had been given false memories of Cora, wouldn’t they have acted like they’d known her? And the fact that they didn’t, that they’d shown no recognition at all, is a huge factor in my argument against her being real.

On the other hand: Stiles and Lydia are the thinkers, the ones most likely to figure the deception out. Also, Stiles showed some detailed knowledge about the Hale fire, early on. If his memories weren’t messed with at all, he’d have probably known there was no “Cora Hale” in Derek’s family, or on the list of the dead.

So we can push this either one of two ways, I figure. Either the Alpha pack just didn’t bother altering their memories and Stiles and Lydia accept Derek’s version of things at first, faintly confused but explaining it away as other things (maybe she was home schooled, maybe I’m remembering the list of names wrong) becoming slowly more suspicious over the course of the season until it all blows up in an alternate 3A finale, or like you said, there’s some magical influence keeping them from recognizing the discrepancies where they normally would have.

Maybe part of the Alphas’ mental influence involves stopping them from noticing when they or others have suspicious marks on their neck. (Oh man, I’m picturing a scene suddenly where Lydia’s mom is trying to talk to her about covering up the marks from the Darach choking her and instead of her awesome “I survived, why hide that” moment, Lydia just doesn’t realize she has any bruises because she’s been compelled not to notice any marks on her neck. And it comes off at first as an empowered thing still, because Lydia just lifts a brow at her mom and said “what do you mean? there’s nothing to cover up.” But then in hindsight, when the viewers realize what was really going on, they realize it was a hint and... ok, sorry, that just would have been really perfect.)

Or, like you said, Morrell could have influenced them somehow. And considering this is a season where we’re exploring the power of druids and emissaries (in the form of the Darach) showing other emissaries having real magic as well would have been fitting twist.

And... there’s a lot in this reply so I think I’m just going to leave this here for now. :P

[lovelywaifu]

Here’s the RP log I promised (part 1)!

As a warning: right now it is minimally edited. There are so many typos and shit I want to die but it was all done on the fly in a window that did not have any kind of spell check feature. Just uuuuuh... use your context clues. Yeah.

I’m breaking this into parts because it’s just way too long to subject someone to in one post.

Session started 2010-12-08 19:47:41 good times

Okay: Obligatory notes on wtf happened. Asa is badly... hurt?? at the beginning of this. Her body was 3 kinds of fucked up and she was suuuuuper struggling with it. She is working for a guild as a thief for the money to support her pregnant best friend who recently lost her mate. Asa is trying to keep working and has been loyal, but the way they are treating her throughout the story makes her realize she needs to gtfo. But since they basically own her, it’s not that simple. Her thief persona is called Kumiho and she wears a mask shaped like a fox. I’m not including a lot of the drama with Pheno leading up to this because that would take FOREVER. Yes, Volpe was based off the Assassin’s Creed series but in the map I ran, pretty much everything was fine so long as everyone had fun with it. His player spoke Italian, so there is a lot of that in there.

Here we gooooooooo:

Kumiho slipped her mask on over her face, hiding her gender and identity from the world once more as she stepped out of the Hideout. Going home was the only thing on her mind for now, though the assignment she had just picked up weighed heavy on her mind. Not because of the target or difficulty, but because of her growing frailty. Working -even just getting around- was becoming an impossible chore. The pain that ran through her becoming beyond unbearable and it showed in her ungraceful gait, lack of flexibility and general not being in top form. Even now, she trekked through the jungle with noisy footsteps and an echo-y pant in the hollow of her mask. She took a moment to pause and stop near the little dock, but noticed someone not too far away. She quickly ducked into the bush, cursing her luck and carelessness. La Volpe, fortunately for her, had not seen anything careless. His bright brown eyes were busy paying attention to the girl that so craved it, prancing in front of him like a cat mreowling for attention. "And what is your name, generous stranger?" The woman purred, tongue thick with local accent. Volpe seemed quick to answer, that smooth smile and charming look could bluff his way through any amount of lying. "Angelo." His own Italian accent said, "Angelo Cirocco." And then adding, as if to strengthen his cause, "My familia owns a wealthy trading market. I inherited it from my padre and I've been traveling with it ever since." The girl he was with made a noise of amazement. "That's so wonderful! I bet you're wealthy beyond belief!" In one smooth movement Volpe's arm slipped around the girl's waist, "More then you think, signora. If you like, I could show you some of my...wealth." A Cheshire grin spread across his lips as he lead the girl on, not waiting for her response. Volpe wouldn't have to. Lead them into a story about wealth and family and you'd have them dangling from the rod like starved fish. So, he and his new companion trawled through these unnamed streets, ones that would have no meaning to him. They stopped occasionally to speak to women, sometimes men that this lady seemed to know, chatting like old fishwives as Volpe sat quietly and patiently. Thankfully he was a patient man, else he would of not gotten where he was today.

Kumiho's ears perked as he spoke his name. Whether it was truth or lies, she had no clue but that accent grabbed her interest almost immediately. Always keen to the characteristics of targets, she decided that it might be in her best interest to keep an eye on this man she had never seen before. But, oh how that damned pain was troubling her! Left with little choice, she decided to tail him. She kept a little distance, though always within earshot of him. She was far too easy to spot on the streets, with the fox mask drawing the curious glares and questioning stares. Maybe it would be easy to drop her disguise. He DID seem to have a fondness for the ladies. And in normal clothing, she would be able to follow him without fear of being recognized for what she was. Having never worked without the protection of her mask, she was distracted by the hard choice. She stumbled right into a trash bin, knocking it over. A soft, sharp "fuck!" escaped her as she scrambled for cover.

La Volpe's acute senses had been picking up some strange vibes, the sort you got when people were staring into the back of your head. But he resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder, not wanting to discourage his tagalong. That was until the trashcan spilling onto the streets, hands twitched from the woman's waist and to the hidden dagger on the small of his back, grasping the handle though not removing the weapon. He  managed only to catch a brief glimpse of this strange being before they disappear, but enough to see that vulpine mask. "What..." He gasped, not quite sure what he had seen. Without thinking he dashed off after the stranger, before stopping at the calls of, "What, where are you going?!" Thinking fast, he replied, "I, uh, forgot about something, someone that wants to make a business proposition. I will return, signora." And with a polite bow he continued chase, not really intending on returning to the femme who's name he didn't even know. "You!" Volpe called, rounding the corner she disappeared behind. "I know you are there." The street was quiet, a back alley that people tended to avoid. Volpe could see why; it smelled faintly of bodily secretions. "Hiding is useless, uno strano. Come out. I promise, I won't hurt you." Italian charm rode upon every syllable, his obvious unawares on the workings of the foreign city on his promises, and a lack of trust there in as the hand upon the blade refused to move as he inched further into the street. He was not afraid, he had come out of dark alley brawls many times and this was no different. A thief wanting gold, an assassin of a jealous man who's woman he happened steal; he had seen it all before.

Kumiho - What a dilemma... Run for it or play it off? Neither was a very good option. If she ran, the chances of her actually getting away in her condition were pretty much zero. But she casually came out from her smelly hiding spot between trash bins, what would she do? Say "whoops, you caught me!", have a good laugh and then go about their merry ways? She thought not. She took a moment to take inventory of herself. No weapons, terrible pain, lack of options. Wonderful. She sat a few more moments, silently trying to think of a way to slip by him. But, alas, there was really no way out of confronting him unless she attempted to run. She eyeballed the wooden fence at the end of the alley. It likely lead to another street, giving her a chance to slip into the evening crowd. I could scale that... she thought to herself. And she had a straight shot to it from her hiding spot too! The more she looked at it, the better it seemed - like a hungry man staring down a sub-par meal. With her mind made up, Ku made a mad dash for the fence, trying desperately to ignore the screaming pain that shot up her spine with every unfortunately footfall she made. She was running out of breath within seconds of her sprint but she continued on. It seemed like the alley went on forever. For a second, she even forgot what she was running from. But then reality snapped back into place and she glanced back, hoping she was miles away from the stranger by now.

La Volpe's hindsight had seen the dash coming; like an animal that was being cornered they had seen no other option, and in one movement Volpe was over the fence and the dagger withdrawn from it's sheathe. He, although probably much older than the other, in her weakened form he would be gaining on her, the distance between them getting smaller and smaller with each step. Brown hues kept a lock on the other's legs, watching, waiting for the right moment then...holding the dagger by the tip of the blade he threw it in a powerful over shoulder throw, aiming for the crook of one of her legs or at least somewhere close. His running had slowed as he regained himself from the throw, waiting now to see if his hit had landed before picking up the pace again.

Kumiho had turned just to look just in time to see him fling the dagger at her, but not in time to try and move out of its path. The next she knew, there was a dagger buried in her calf. Predictably, she couldn't help but cry out in pain, dropping her forced voice and giving a hint to the female under the masculine guise. It wasn't very often that she was at the receiving end of a blade and the shock of the pain made her leg stop responding just enough to send her knees, arm and face into the road with a little skid. Instinct kicked in immediately, though not for the better. She pulled the knife from her leg and clench the wound. But hearing him approach drew her attention away from the wound. She shot him a angry glare, but said nothing. She couldn't think of anything to say. Her only thoughts were: I'm in trouble...

La Volpe knew well enough that she could not possibly get up and run after having a knife embedded into her calf. Face was caught somewhere between a frown and surprise; it hadn't taken him long to get tailed, a new record perhaps! He sauntered over to her fallen frame, grabbing her roughly by the collar and pulling her to her feet - the mask causing whatever gentleness he would of given to be mistaken for the likes of a man - free hand clenched into a fist just in case the stranger needed a little help in talking. "Who are you?" He gazed hard into the eyeholes of the mask, "And why do you wear the mask of a volpe?" He was sure whether to feel proud or angry that someone wore something similar to what he did. "Who are you hiding from with that mask?" Volpe made the movements to remove the mask, pondering the importance of the stranger's identity.

Kumiho grunted and groaned as he dragged her up and made her stand on the wounded leg. Now, she was really, really in trouble. In her head, she cursed and berated herself for putting herself in this position. And it was a position she wasn't terribly familiar with. She didn't have the razor-sharp wit or cunning that would allow her to sweet talk her way out of sticky situations - but to hell if she wasn't going to try! She answered his questions in the order they came; all with the forced, breathy voice she talked in when masking her naturally feminine tone. "No one of importance." She met his gaze with her own. Those silvery blue things giving away the immense pain and panic. "If you want to know about the mask, I'm afraid you'll have to buy me a drink. It's a looooong story." Sarcasm practically dripped from her words, but the humor was cut short when he reached up take grab at the mask. "Don't you dare," she growled, in a much more serious voice. La Volpe snatched the dagger from where ever she had kept it, wiping the blood from the blade onto one of her trouser legs and sheathing it again, making sure that she could not use it against him. A smirk danced across his olive features, hand remained suspended in the motion of removing the mask. "Oh?" Tone pitched in interest. "If you were no one importante, you would not care for me to see your face. There must be a reason you hide it away, signor, unless you are unfortunately brutto." He brought her up and pressed her up against a near by wall, grasp tight across her collar and hand curling around the lip of the mask. "I could buy you a drink or two, mister. You need not tail me just to get one from me, I am a generous man." He played along with her sarcastic tone with a playful one of his own.

Kumiho snorted at his comments about her wearing the mask. Naturally, she didn't understand all the words he used, but the context of them could only lead to passing insults, she assumed. "Maybe there is, but why would it be important for you to know who's underneath?" Answering questions with questions, what a fun game. Having to deal with pain and conversation at the same time, it was hard to think of a next move. She considered using the first resort that most females used against a male - a blow to the jewels. But with the mask on she couldn't judge where her knee was in relation to him. Plus, a failed attempt at such was likely to end up with a less-than-favorable beating. "Who's to say I'm not just a curious passersby? Or maybe it was your lady friend I was following. Your assumptions are rather arrogant." La Volpe seemed to have read her mind, as his hand shifted so that his forearm pushed her throat against the wall, hard enough for her not to wriggle free but loose enough to let her breathe and talk. The other hand went to find that fresh wound, index and middle fingers finding the gap that the blade would have made and gave a quick press to it. "I am not stupid, my friend. That lady was just a puttana that worked in the brothels. She holds no importance." Hand remained touching the wound, adding only a small amount of pressure. "So, anyone that would have been tailing us, would have been tailing me, si? Besides, who wouldn't send someone out after a wealthy noble men, hmm? It seems to be common practice nowadays."" And then, at the arrogant comment, he gave a little chuckle. "It is part of my charm, signor. The ladies certainly don't seem to mind it." Volpe's smile remained, but his eyes flared with seriousness. "Now then, back to business. Just tell me who you are, what you are doing, and I might let you go. If not, I'll just have to reintroduce you to my blade. I don't think you two properly met."

Kumiho coughed a bit with the sudden pressure on her throat. But when he went to re-attack the wound he had made on her leg, her mind really went into panic mode and she was struggling to keep herself in check. She was in no condition to be in this kind of predicament. A startled cry echoed behind her mask in all its girlish glory. Tears sprung up against her will, though she managed to keep herself from sobbing like a fool. Pain on top of pain on top of pain. That was definitely not something she was used to. But she couldn’t betray her guild, and was going to refuse to speak of it until the bitter end if need be. Still, little details wouldn't hurt for now. She hesitated at first. "I'm a thief, that much is true.Who I am is not to be spoken. I'm only tailing you out of curiosity." That was half lie, but hopefully good enough to pass. La Volpe's lips spread into a satisfactory smile. Oh, how he enjoyed that sound. Eyebrows raised in surprise at the stranger's voice, however, and how many octaves it had increased by. "Say, you're not quite a signor so much as a signorina, si? Clever disguise, my friend. Even I was fooled." He let a little of the pressure off, fingers hovering threateningly over the wound in case she tried something funny. "A thief, eh? Just some petty thief wanting to steal from the pockets of the rich? I don't believe you. Petty thieves don't use get-ups. Come on, signorina, you are only making it harder for yourself." Pressure was reapplied, hand tightening around the wound like a vice grip. "I could sit and do this all night. It's one of my favourite past times. But I can't let you bleed out into the street, now, can I? Perhaps if you are a little nicer I'll take you to a doctor and get you seen to."

Kumiho was trying so hard to keep her mouth shut. She had thought herself to have such a high tolerance to pain, but here she was driven to the brink by one of the most basic plays in the book of torture. "I'll take that as a compliment." She groan as he went right by to playing her wound. A passing hunch was telling her that perhaps he was the man that she was supposed to be targeting... No ordinary man would go through this much trouble or know how to do these things - nobleman or not. And she wasn't absolutely certain it was him anyway. That was all the more pressure to not break. But the pain! "I'm-" she bit her lip, "hired..." That was all she said before decided she had said enough. She decided to go with her earlier plan and go for the groin. But with her blind spot, she was more likely going to aim too low and hit his thigh or too high and get him in the gut.

La Volpe was certainly not an ordinary man! As no ordinary nobleman would indeed not know how to torture information out of another. But who he was remained a mysterious to everyone he met, each identity different from the last. Quite like the femme before him, he'd rather keep his true occupation a secret, lest they know they were quite similar. "Hired for--" He was cut off from the blow of her knee, thankfully missing his precious jewels but catching him in the abdomen. The absence of armor meant that he was met with the full force of the blow, and despite being physically fit it managed to catch him off guard. His grip slipped away from her as he tried to catch his breath. "Ah...bastardo..." He growled through gasps of air, recovering moderately though his side still stung - maybe even bruise. What a punch this girl could land!

Kumiho was thankful her blow had landed. Even if it wasn't where she was aiming, she took what she could get. She mustered all the strength she had left to push him off and make a run for it for the second time. She considered ducking into a crowded shop or tavern, taking off her mask and trying to blend but the huge racoon eye makeup she used to black out her eye area would probably grab his attention. He wasn't a gullible idiot like many of the others she had dealt with. He was going to notice her in a crowd. She ran guided by instinct -and panic- but with a limp thanks to the overworked wound on her calf. And with her heart racing, a nice blood trail was left where ever she went. Eventually, she ducked into a different alley and collapsed against a wall. She didn't bother to see if he followed, only ran with the prayer that she'd lose him.

La Volpe steadied himself against the other wall as he was pushed, letting her get away while he caught his breath. "What a woman." He muttered to himself, laughing, "I've never seen a signorina hit like that before." Cutting the chatter to himself quickly he followed the traces of blood out into the street. But the crowds made it impossible to follow whatever blood was left. He considered very briefly returning to his abode and retrieving his own mask and weapons - and armor, in case she tried the jewel trick again - but by then in might be too late. She could easily change her own attire, remove the mask and walk freely among the streets past him. "Cazzo." Soon he found himself scaling the rooftops, catching just a glimpse of the girl as she sped off into some other alley, bounding and leaping over the buildings and their obstacles like a madman. "Here kitty, kitty. I won't hurt you, micino gatto..." Volpe would say as he dropped into the alley way he believed her to be hiding in, Italian accent rolling off his lips like syllables of soft velvet wrapped in the deep purrs of a sensual beast; some sort of coy to luring her out, of course not, an attempt of faking her out, or at least intimidating her in some way. He'd remain unarmed for now, the blade on his back and in his boot would come in handy should she try to strike at him. Kumiho, hearing his voice approaching, quickly inspected this new alley for a place to hide. But it had little to offer. But she had to get away and soon; her strength was starting to go. She felt woozy. All she had was a clothesline, a barrel of rain runoff and all the trash cans a girl could ever ask for. So she did the one thing she could do: a makeshift makeover. Though it was disgusting, she removed her mask to wash the black from her face in the rainwater. She stripped to her undies in record time, changing into a shirt and loose shirt from the clothesline. She dumped her clothing in the trash -it was bloody anyway- but there was no way she could leave the mask. That was far too important to her. So she gathered more clothes from the line, carrying them as any lady would when getting her laundry from the line. Buried in it, her precious mask. She did her best to walk casually down the alley as just any-other-chore-doer, even managing to hide the limp... mostly. It was an extraordinarily risky move; she had never let anyone see her face. Not even her trusted allies. If he found her now, he would know more about her than most of her allies and enemies combined. But if she kept running with her mask on, she would be just that much easier to pinpoint. Her hasty plan was far from flawless, however. Her one oversight being the biggest: a growing bloodstain on the back of the skirt.

La Volpe kept cautious, walking in slow, deliberate steps as he rounded the corner...only to be confronted by a woman with folds of laundry. "Mi spiace." He gave a polite bow on his way past, checking the near by trash cans and nooks and crannies for any hiding felines. Perhaps the lady had seen something. As he turned to ask for help, he'd spot that dark stain, funnily enough right where he had thrown the dagger into the femme's leg. Cursing himself inwardly but smiling outwardly, he approached the lady with a trot. "Mi susci. Have you seen a woman around here? She's injured and I am so terribly worried about her. She got so frightened that she ran off, please, I need to find her." He was a good actor, not failing to put on a good show. Though he had another trick up his sleeve should she find her way past this one.

Kumiho, for a moment, thought her clever plan had worked! He was passing her by! Or... not. Curse him! She did her best to act her part as well, not wanting to let him get the upper hand. She gave him an annoyed look and allowed herself to speak in her own voice now. "What am I, a babysitter now? First I'm sent to fetch a neighbor's laundry and how I have to look after a date gone bad?" She was doing her best to sound genuinely annoyed. That didn't take too much effort, not surprisingly. "Men these days are forgetting how to treat a lady. Always talking bad about them and forcing them to do this and that!" She continued to ramble on about nothing, trying to walk away from him all the while. Why was it all these alleys were so long?

La Volpe was genuinely surprised at the response. He hadn't seen this reaction coming! "Susca, sigorina." He'd give another bow. "I did not mean to upset you. I was just curious to know if you had seen her. I did not mean to burden you with my troubles..." He watched her walk away for a moment, before catching up to her. "Here, sigorina. Let me take that for you. It looks awfully heavy. Your neighbor must not appreciate you." He'd chuckle as he went to take the bundle of clothing from her, all in a generous act of kindness of course. "And besides," He'd lean in a little closer just to say a little quieter, "That injured leg of yours must be hard to walk on."

Kumiho- "No, I've got it." She scrambled for more to say, some excuse to make him go away. But before she could, his last comment struck her into silence. "Fine," she said with a heavily sigh. She shoved the pile of laundry into his arms. She buried her arm in it, pulling her mask out from within it. She looked at it sadly before dropping down to one knee, as her guild dictated was customary in a surrender or to admit defeat. "You win. I don't have the strength to play cat and mouse anymore." She clenched at her wound, finally able to put pressure on it. She looked up at him, clearly upset and weary, and awaited his actions - whatever they may be. La Volpe remained quiet at her defeat, waiting 'till she had finished her surrender before actually doing anything. The piles of laundry where discarded onto the floor behind him, forgotten and unneeded, as he bent onto one knee and placed a hand upon one of the feline's shoulders. "Sigorina...We should get you to a doctor before that wound of yours gets any worse, hmm?" He spoke with a kindness not yet used before, "My intention is not to kill you...Maybe not now anyway." He paused to give a faint chuckle, "I, uh, apologize for stabbing you. I let my instincts get the better of me sometimes." Another chuckle ensued as he rose to his feet, offering the femme a hand up. "Come on now, let me help you. It's the least I can do, after stabbing you and all."

[There was a pause here so the transition is a just slightly off]

La Volpe had remained relatively quiet as they reached the doctor's building, He'd offer the femme help to walk, even gentlemanly enough to offer to carry her should her leg be too painful to walk on. He felt somewhat bad for stabbing a woman...such thing wasn't something he did regularly but tried not to live by morals; they could get in the way of his chosen occupation. In any case, he let the doctor do his thing, the wound deep enough to need some stitching but not deep enough to be a serious wound. It could leave a scar, he would say, depending on how she looked after it as it healed. Volpe paid whatever fees and asked for a little time to talk to the girl, all done out of the way of Kumiho. He'd enter the room she was in, closing the door quietly behind her. "How are you feeling?" His eyes traveled to her injured leg then back to her face. "Again...I am sorry for inflicting the wound. If I had known..." He hesitated for a moment. "...If I had known had not you did not mean me any physical harm I would not have thrown the knife." Volpe offered a sort of half-smile. "Now, down to business. What were you doing, ladro? I know you are no petty thief. You are something more...serio. What did you want from me?" He'd lean against one of the doctor's medicine counters, crossing his arms across his chest, brown eyes kept upon her. Asayl was able to hobble along on her own - for about ten minutes before having to reluctantly accepting help. As the panic from the chase wore off, her flaws set in. She was hemophobic and struggled with the fact that she was bleeding. As the doctor worked, she kept her eyes shut tight. Her stomach turned at the very thought of there being blood on her but she somehow managed to keep from vomiting or passing out. At her request, the wound was heavily bandaged to that she wouldn't have to see it or any blood that may escape the stitches. As Volpe entered the room, she took it upon herself to put on a tough front again. She shot him a hard look. She snorted at his apology, obviously very upset that he had injured, outfoxed and unmasked her. "Still so arrogant," she huffed. "I told you already: I was tailing you out of curiosity. I've taken a job to get something from someone who has an accent like yours. So when I heard you speak to that girl, it caught my attention. For all I know, you're just some whore-loving man with a funny accent. Chances of you actually being who I'm after are slim. And besides, I'm no killer. I'm just a thief." She took a deep breath, still trying to steady herself a bit. She muttered under her breath. "Being out done by some kook in an alley... getting me to take my mask off... stupid!"

La Volpe did not break off his own stare nor loose his smile as she turned his way; such games were amusing to play. "Mi sucsi. I doubt I am the only man with a weakness to foreign ladies. As for my funny accento, well, you ladies are just the same with foreign men." Smile morphed into a lopsided grin as he rolled his shoulders some. "A kook? I am hurt. Surely I appear to be more than some crazy turistica. Business would not do well if I was but a kook." He quickly regained from the derailed conversation, eyes averted to the fox mask, where ever she may of sat it. "The mask. Why do you wear it? What sort of meaning does it have?" He'd lean off of the counter, sauntering slowly over to her, towards her mask, taking in the detail, still surprised at the seeming coincidence. But nothing was a coincidence, was it?

Asayl didn't like the way he talked. Not just the funny accent, but the emphasis he used and the very words themselves. Even if he hadn't caught her in the leg with a dagger, torment her and chase her down, she probably would not have liked him. Before he could get the conversation back on track, she managed to spit, "sane people don't throw daggers when someone tries to run from them." As he approached her, she snapped up her mask from beside her and move it to a more protected spot: her lap. "The same reason anyone would wear a mask. I don't want anyone to see my face when I work. I'd rather not have to worry about the constant threat of being stalked for revenge when I'm not working." She paused for a moment, looking a little embarrassed. "The meaning behind it is a long story. It's none of your business."

La Volpe, however, found the femme quite interesting indeed. A little firecracker with a silver tongue to boot, it wasn't often you met a lady that could hold her own. At least, not where he came from anyway. "And what is sane to you, signorina? Those that do not wield weapons for the sake of security, or at least know how to wield a weapon?" He threw his arms open into a wide, over-exaggerated shrug. "I am insane for knowing how to wield a blade. So be it." His tone was cavalier. "But that is not why I am still here. You are hiding something, signorina, I know you are." He'd lean in close to her, eyes squinted as if he were attempting to peer right into her soul. "You are not who you say you are. My instincts tell me you are something...something quite pericoloso."

Asayl would have had a weapon if she hadn't been heading home from a non-job-related task when she chanced upon him! She wanted to argue that, but held her tongue. Maybe the less that came from his mouth, the better. Besides, when someone says their many weapon is a stick, they tend to get laughed at. "Oh course I'm hiding something," she said with a 'duh' look on her face. "Just because you got the better of me doesn't mean I'm going to spill every detail of who I am and what I do to you. That would be idiotic." Then she decided it was her turn to ask questions. "And what about YOU, hmm? Why so interested in me - in my mask? You're just as pericoloso as I am!" Naturally, she completely mispronounced the foreign word.

La Volpe smirked, standing tall at his full height, gazing away from her. "Of course not. Where is the fun in that?" He glanced back at her, "I just love squeezing out information. And if you are not willing to part with it eventually...I have my ways. You don't think I'm going to let you go and wave you off, now, would you? I'm sure we'll be spending lots of time together." He emphasized 'lots' quite strongly, squinting his eyes in a mock-evil manner. Volpe laughed quietly, though did not correct her. "I could be very dangerous indeed. It depends on how you look at it." He paused for devious chuckle. "But because I know how to fight makes me dangerous. I could be a humble nobleman for all you know. So, la mia piccola volpe, what do you know about me?"

Asayl scoffed. After what had happened, she knew he wasn't just talking big. But still, she didn't quite buy his act - nasty laughs or not. She stood, injured leg giving out for a split second, though she righted herself in time to not look totally lame. Spending 'lots' of time with him was the last thing she wanted. "Hmph, you expect me to spill my guts but you won't play fair. What a gentlemen you turned out to be." She eyed the door. There were others around... if she cried out would people come to her aid? She imagined the doctor was at least a little suspicious of the circumstances that she and the man had entered. She decided to be a little daring and push her luck. It could work... maybe. She started to walk across the room toward the exit, limping but confident. "I don't intend to play your little games. I told you all that you need to know. You've had your fill, pig, now go back to your sty." . La Volpe allowed her to step forward, thinking that she was not intending to leave the room. However, as she made her way towards the door, he found himself leaning quite contently at the door frame, arm across the door in such a way that he looked as though he was just casually leaning against it but was in fact blocking her escape. "Me? Un porco? Not quite the resemblance I would have made. I would of thought more of a cat, maybe...a fox. But that is another matter." He gave a cheery sort of smile. "I am far from full, amore mio, and far from done with you. Now, shall we leave? I am sure the dottore needs to tend to other patients." Volpe moved from the door in one fluid movement, standing beside her now, one arm draped across her shoulders and squeezing it tight. "The night is still young. Come, I'm sure a couple of drinks will loosen that sharp tongue of yours." He'd begin to guide her out of the door, thanking the doctor and keeping a firm grip on the girl as the entered the streets.

Asayl gave him another sharp look as he casually blocked her way. She was starting to grow very, very suspicious of him. She couldn't tell if the fox comment was meant to mock her or enlighten her but she decided it was safe to not ask. when he put his arm around her, she flinched quite noticeably. This was not going the way she wanted, not at all. She stayed silent until they were back on the street. If he was dangerous, she guessed it was better not to repay the doctor for his work by putting him in harm's way. But once out, she talked again. "I don't drink," she announced sternly. This was a fact. Alcohol did not mix well with her in the least. "So, you're going to keep an innocent girl captive now? You're being awfully concerned about letting a girl who doesn't know who you are go. So I guess that means you're hiding something too, aren't you?"

La Volpe snapped the fingers of his free hand together in a 'well, damn!' manner. "How sad. You are missing a lot in life. Don't tell me, you're a Catholic too?" He'd offer a single raised eyebrow and another smirk. "Please, you are mistaking me. I only want to make it up to you. It's not everyday I get to stab a gentildonna." He'd then give a dark, devious look. "I could be. Or maybe I want to seem pericoloso to make you think I am hiding something. Oh, the possibilities!" Free arm was thrown up in the air in a wide arc. Asayl didn't reply to his joking comments. She only stared at him with a half-unamused, half-disgusted look that only the most unhappy people in the universe could produce. "You're a bad liar. If you were really just trying to make it up to me, you wouldn't have mentioned squeezing information out of me or spending lots of time with me." She suddenly stop walking, putting on a more serious face. She was catching on now. She worked with others like him, after all. There was definitely a chance that he was the one she was targeting after all.  "I may not know exactly who or what you are, but I know you're games." Any attempt of him trying to put his arm back around her or touch would be met with immediate and fierce resistance. La Volpe would pout. "My dear, there is more than one way to take a man's comments." Though he would hesitate before waving dismissively. "But you're a little young for my tastes. Mi sucsi." Another eyebrow was raised now that she was getting serious, and he dared not try to put his arm around her again. It would be like putting his hand into a box of angry, poisonous snakes. "And what, signorina, games are those? If you care not to beat around the bush, why not just come right out and say it? It's not like I cut your tongue or anything." Volpe walked a little further on then stopped, turning on his heel to face her with a look of seriousness, one that had not been worn since the chase.

Asayl was silent for a moment, still with that tense-jawed look of seriousness. "Lying, double talk, being passively intimidating so that you remain in control with less chance of your victim lashing out at you. You're like us, aren't you?" 'Us' being her guild - the band of thieves and assassins she worked with. Her silver eyes locked squarely with his. "You do dirty deeds for money. I bet you even hide your face, just like me. I bet I can even guess your name." She started walking again, this time to pass him and continue down the road. If she turned and pointed and shouted his name, everyone passing nearby would hear. "Would you like to hear my guess?" La Volpe frowned, not quite knowing who 'us' were, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. She was really onto him now, a wildfire that had spread and now was out of control. There was no way he could weasel his way out of this one. A dark look crossed his face as she goaded him, a quick and dangerous saunter narrowed the distance between them, now standing merely inches away, bundling the scruff of her collar in his fist like he had done before and drew her ever closer to his face. Although the action might of seemed aggressive, he was being more than gentle with her. "Go on then, signorina." He spoke quietly, threateningly, "Who am I?" Asayl didn't bother to move as he closed in on her. She could play games too. She allowed him to get uncomfortably close and then closed the gap between them by giving him a sort of hug, hands placed on the backside of his shoulders to push him against her. To any passing drunkard, it may have looked like she was encouraging a kiss. At least with his hands up where she could see, she didn't have to worry so much about suddenly being attacked with that damn dagger again. She move to her nearly cheek to cheek with him, whispering in his ear rather than shouting aloud. "Where's your mask, La Volpe?" A part of her almost hoped she was wrong.

La Volpe was surprised at her actions, not quite sure what brought on this sudden urge for closeness after wanting to repel him for so long. Then, he almost felt his pupils dilate at the soft whispered name. How the hell did she know? With elegant swiftness he had thrown the femme around the corner into another alley way, keeping a hold of her collar as he backed her up roughly against the wall. Other hand went for that dagger she had been acquainted with on the small of his back, withdrawing it and putting it to her neck with almost lightning speed. "How..." It was an almost predatory growl, "How do you know, ladro?" Teeth bared as he fought hard to keep his anger sated, though the best idea would be just to slit her throat to keep his secret, there must be a link somewhere. Someone else might of told her, and killing her would only make the trail cold.

Asayl grunted as she was pushed back into the wall. It still hurt scrambling back on her lame leg and hitting the cold stone wall but at least she had braced for it properly. It was a nifty thing she had picked up from an assassin friend, holding and enemies shoulders to feel for when their muscles tense to signal a coming movement. She would have to thank him for that later if she managed to get home in one piece. The knife at her throat had her concerned. Still, it was her turn to smile. She got it right, it seemed. Too bad he didn't have what she needed with him or maybe she would have moved a little faster. "It's a secret," she cooed. "But it seems like we're even now. I've seen your face and you've seen mine." She didn't make an attempt to fight back just yet.

La Volpe hadn't actually planned on using the knife, it was more of an intimidation method...which had obviously failed. Teeth gritted against the femme's playing, not liking it now that the tables had been turned on him. "True. We are even." His eyes would narrow, "But I am still not letting you go until you tell me what I want to know. You still have your use...for now." His accent remained the same, giving his voice that smooth, velveteen touch despite his obvious anger. "Now come, ladro. Let us not play anymore games. Tell me your intentions. I grow tired of this balleto we are dancing. Tell me, and you can have your leave." The cold steel of the knife pressed softly against her flesh and fur, soft enough not to harm but still make its presence known. Asayl's coy grin grew wider. Maybe there was something fun to all this rough stuff she avoided after all. She was genuinely excited now that she had the upper hand. "Oh, now you want to stop playing games? What happened to all the fun and smiles from when you were toying with me? I thought you liked games." In the back of her mind, she was trying to conjure up a way to get out of this without slipping him anymore clues as to what she was after. Fighting back while unarmed was out. Running... well, that didn't work the first time so definitely not now. Maybe she could schmooze her why out by playing the seduction card? He wasn't too hard on the eye after all.  She pondered. "And if I still have my uses, why so cruel as to hold a knife to my throat? That's very rude of you."

La Volpe frowned again. He knew he was loosing control of the situation and was beginning to panic. She was on a roll and he didn't know how to stop her. Then, out of the blue that wry smirk returned, knife hesitant to return to its sheathe. "Oh, I do like games. But I like to be in control. I am a controlling messere after all, just like you said." He'd then loosen himself off, removing the knife from her throat. "Very well, signorina. I will play your games. Let's have a little fun, eh?" He'd snort, "It's not rude to pull a knife on un porco when they are to be slaughtered. Only, this little porco wriggled its way out of the pen and has had a taste of freedom." Asayl- Phew! It was a wonderful feeling to not be in immediate danger of having a slit throat. There was still the matter of just getting away from him somehow. But that posed its own problems. He didn't know her alias or her real name, but with a few well-placed questions, it wouldn't be too terribly hard to find the name of the thief with the black and silver fox mask. This whole situation was leading down some dangerous roads. "What happened to what you said about not wanting to kill me?" She leaned back against the wall comfortably now that he had backed off. "You're going back on everything you say, Volpe. And here thought you were a more honest man. Really, if we are on even terms now we should be a little nicer to one another. I'm very nice when I'm not being threatened." She eyed him less tensely now. It was almost a friendly look.

La Volpe smiled now. "I never said I was going to kill you. Threatening someone with a knife and actually slitting someone's throat are different stories, don't you think? Don't make me sound like a disonesto messere." Arms would open up in a somewhat friendly gesture, like he was about to bring her into a hug. "That sounds fiera to me. All this threatening isn't very gentiluomo of me. What say we talk it out, like civilized persone, mm?"

Asayl- Good, he's smiling again. She was learning it was much easier to deal with him when he was smiling. She didn't push the threat things anymore, despite her urges to point out all his implied threats. "Yes, let's." She finally pulled herself off the wall to take hold of his hand and urge him back into the street - back to where she knew he wouldn't just up and kill her at the drop of a hat. The little prance in her step hurt her sore leg but she endured. At least it was distracting her mind from her other pains, likely from riding the adrenaline rush. She looked back at him with an impish grin and a suggestive shimmer in her eye as she mentally prepared herself for what she planned on doing. "Take me somewhere, Volpe."

La Volpe was impulsive and unpredictable at best. However, when deciding the fate of another he tried to be a bit more reasonable. He'd glance down at his hand as hers slipped into it, offering a confused frown of sorts. The sudden change in attitude was nice, but he couldn't help but feel that she had some sort of ulterior motive...but he said nothing. He'd wait it out, just going along until he knew for sure. "Where would you like to go, amore mia? You have already mentioned that you do not drink, so a tavern is out of the question. A walk through a quiet park, perhaps? Or is there anywhere nice you would like to visit?"

Asayl shrugged in a pseudo-carefree way. "This is a strange city to me. It's my first night here. Maybe you know where things are? You just have to promise to not drag me through anymore alleys. I'm not very fond of the smell of garbage." She glanced down at herself, just to reminder herself what she looked like at the moment. Right, a frumpy peasant top, a bloody skirt and a fox mask. That wasn't exactly night-on-the-town wear. "Maybe somewhere more... secluded. I'm not dressed for the occasion, obviously." La Volpe chuckled some. "I promise. Alleyways aren't the nicest of places in any sort of occasion." The more she spoke the more he was sure about ulterior motives, but again to couldn't be too sure. She had already somewhat admitted to 'being like him', without actually admitting to it. She was a dodgy sort of gal, much like himself, full of double meanings and facades; he could never be too careful. "Isolato, you say? That only makes me wonder what is going through that head of yours." He'd glance at her with grin. "I am new to this city as well, but I pretty much have the most important areas learned." He needn't say what these areas were. "Come, then. Let's go for a wander." Volpe would take her away from the heart of the city, having already commented on her own dress sense he figured she didn't want to be seen by the social community of the city. Volpe would take her to a public garden of sorts, surrounded by the ruins of a once previous settlement that was strangled by vines, a cobbled path cutting through the center with different off turnings around the ruins and flora. Flowers bloomed in their radiant colours, though in the setting of the sun they had closed over, hiding their fragile organs from the darkness settling  in. Lanterns had been lit throughout the course of the path, the halos of those further ahead obscured by the blossom and red maple leaves of the trees. 

Asayl smirked with a little tee-hee of a giggle as he led her off. She spent most of the walk plotting out her moves and planning for if something went astray between the idle (maybe awkward) chitchat that took place. But Volpe was a smart man. He wasn't going to be tricked so easily. Never the less, she had to give something a shot or she was never going to be able to get home. When they arrived at where they were going, she was impressed. Such a beautiful garden! Her love of all thing flora almost made her melt. Composure! she shouted in her head. She wandered over to a long-still fountain choked with lily pads and singing with frogs. She took a seat on its edge and motioned for him to come over, patting the space next to her. "So, let's talk."

La Volpe was not about to allow her to stray him from what he wanted to know - he knew that she would try every trick in the book to get out of this awkward situation. He would try to remain as positively focused on what he wanted to know rather than letting the conversation slip. At the offer he'd come to lean on the lip of the fountain, arms folded casually across his frame. "Yes, let's talk. Now then, little ladro, why don't we start off with what you actually know about me, mm?" He'd turn to give the femme beside him a sort of sidways glance, intent on keeping a watchful eye on her, on her movements, her body language; anything that would let him know what she might be thinking or planning on doing.

Asayl shrugged as he looked her way. She was going to have to keep an eye on him too if she didn't want to find a blade in his again. "Funny you should ask that," she chuckled. Just to draw the moment out, she leaned back on her lands, letting her legs stretch out -though cautiously with the injured one- and across at the ankles. "I don't actually know much about you. All I know is that there is a masked assassin much like me, fox mask and all. Only, he has a very distinct accent, very much unlike me, and he calls himself La Volpe. And that is the extent of what I know." La Volpe's mind would wander to thoughts about his own mask. How it was sitting in a locked box underneath his bed at the inn he was staying at, along with all his other assassin equipment. A hand would begin to play with a ruffle at the end of his shirt. Despite his previous boasting about having a foreign accent, it also proved to be one of his downfalls, especially in an unknown land like this. "Hmm..." Was his only response for now, remaining in thought. The information she had was pretty basic, but enough to find a trail of some sort. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, signorina. You say you are 'like me', which I presume to be that you are an assassino, or something of the sort. May I ask, are you involved in a guild of that nature?" He paused for a moment. "I was attacked by a thief who had claimed to have come from a guild...Esoteric, I believe."  It had been hard work trying to squeeze that piece of information out of him, and possibly resulted in his death. That, among other things of course. "And that has led me here. And strangest of all things, I am attacked in this city too, by none other than another ladro." Volpe turned now to look at her, coy smile on his lips. "So, signorina, do you have any connections to this guild?"

Asayl's cheery expression faded for a few seconds to some sort of uncertain face. All their conversations felt like they were a race. "I think I've already told you everything about me by now. And I've already said that I am not a killer. I'm a thief. Just a thief. That is the honest truth." She may have sounded a little offended. She didn't like being accused of murder, even under the context of being an assassin. Her ears perked slight at the mention of Esoteric. Ah, the guild leaders were not going to be happy that their name had been spilled. "I do work with a guild, yes. It's hard getting work as a lone thief. But the name of it isn't really something I'm willing to tell you, unfortunately." Crap, she was slipping away from her plan of action. "But what does any of that even matter," she asked in a sing-song tone. She shimmied herself over closer to him, though not quite touching him. "It's too nice of a night to talk about such dirty things."

La Volpe always wondered why people referred to the jobs of assassins and like-minded people as 'dirty'. Under the context, perhaps, but he had never connected his occupation to the likes of filth or other degrading factors. Maybe it was because he worked close with such things; maybe not. "I never expected you to tell me anything about them, signorina. All I needed was that link." He'd smile again, though it quickly faltered some as she shuffled towards him. Shooting her a quick glance now, wondering what she was up to. It might be one of her tricks, or perhaps she was just being friendly. There was no way to tell at the moment, but Volpe couldn't help but feel cautious. "What would you rather talk about, then?" Asayl- "Well, who you kill and where they're from doesn't really matter to me. It's not my concern." The second sentence was in a cheery tone. She noticed the drop in his smile and teased him about it. "Oh what's this? You don't want the company of a pretty lady like me now that I'm being nice? Or maybe you're the type who likes to be rough up by women?" She laugh aloud. "Don't worry, Volpe, I don't bite. I told you I wasn't a killer, right? I'm not much of a fighter either to be honest!" Was that a lie? Maybe. Maybe that knee to the gut was just a fluke, a lucky shot by a panicked cat. "Let's talk about you now. You know everything about me and all I know is your alter ego. So it's your turn to tell me about you. The real you, not the mask." She leaned, ever so slightly, toward him as she spoke.

La Volpe quickly offered her a sharp look, smirk twisting underneath. "Oh, I am not complaining. Though, usually when I chase a pretty woman I usually don't end up throwing a knife at her." He'd laugh, raising an eyebrow. "I like a rough woman as much as a gentle one. But that just depends on my mood, ultimately." He'd say nothing about her being a fighter, though. "All right then, signorina." Smirk morphed into a lopsided grin; he was up for playing her games, now. "What would you like to know about this fabled 'real' me? It is just as any nobleman's would be." Any nobleman that didn't play at an alter ego, that was. Asayl- "Yes, you really should work on not doing that anymore," she joked. She was annoying him, she could tell. But it was kind of fun annoying him so. "I'm very gentle. No really, I am!" She held her arms out in a limp, noodly fashion. "I don't have the strength to be rough." That was a lie though. Her usual outfit and the peasant top she currently wore did a grand job of hiding her toned arms. Still, she stuck with her story. "No it isn't. You're very different from any noble I ever met, except maybe in your fondness for drinking and chasing skirts. That seems to be a requirement of nobles. I want to know other things. No one just picks up any old mask and decides they want to be an assassin. So something must have happened to spur you into action."

La Volpe raised an eyebrow. "Some how a doubt that. You managed to evade me for quite some time, and got a nice kick in at me. Perhaps not strong enough to be rough, but you are definitely strong enough to put up a good fight." He wasn't going to let that slip away from him, whether she was trying to be annoying or not. "Drinking is an art form. That is a fact. How others like yourself do not take part confuses me so." He would grin, baring his teeth, "Chasing skirts. What an interesting phrase. Another art form, most definitely. The chase is usually the best part of the kill." Kill used in the non-literal sense. "Of course not. One that kills without reason is nothing more than a murderer. I have my reasons, and they remain as secret as your guild." He smirks, "I am allowed to keep mine, too. Besides, remaining dark and mysterious is always attractive." Asayl shifted all her weight to one hand so that the other could remain up to wave off his comments. "True enough, I guess. I'm much more apt to run than fight though. My strength was made for climbing, not throwing punches." She put her other hand back down and went right back to her reclined position. She let the conversation flow now, trying not to press him too hard though she was getting impatient about leaving. She didn't want him too get too riled up. "A shame to you, a nightmare to me," she pout-frowned, "alcohol works too quickly on me. I'm stupidly drunk after just one drink. So I stay away. It's not worth my time.” At mentioning that being dark was attractive, she couldn't help but sigh. "Yeah, I found that out a long time ago, thanks."  It was an oddly misplaced comment but she quickly moved on. "If you won't talk about that, then tell me why you wear a fox mask. It doesn't seem like a fitting choice for you." La Volpe made a 'tsk' noise as he chuckled. "Yes. Such a shame indeed." He then frowned at the strange comment, offering a confused, "You're welcome." He thought about the fox mask again, wondering what she found so strange about the idea. She wore one herself, though their reasons where probably different. "What, would you prefer I wore one of un porco?" He joked, before getting serious, "I liken assassino to volpe. Quiet creatures, lurking in the shadows. Always seen as vile to common folk, but there is always something more to them. Creatures of lesser thinking know more about survival than we do despite us being of higher evolution, so to speak. The assassinos are not bound to morals, to law, to common thinking." Volpe paused, thinking. "Hence the name, too. La Volpe. The Fox. I find an odd biased liking to the vulpines more so than any other creature." Asayl rolled her eyes with a giggle. "It might be more appropriate." She listened to his explanation intently. Ah, so he just saw them as better than other animals. Playing favorites, who would've thought it was something so simple. It was far different from her long-winded story of betrayal and revenge. Not that that was something he needed to know. His sudden seriousness was dampening her plan though. Though it wasn't a very well laid play and dropping it was starting to seem like the more sane option. She didn't have the heart to try and seduce him. She wasn't going to be caught being unfaithful for some killer. Instead, she decided it was time to cut to the chase. "Well, now that we know each other a little better, I have to ask: what's it going to take for you to let me go home? Surely you have no more use for me." She was much more serious in both voice and expression now.

[We stopped but discussed the outcome from this OOC. Asayl is not allowed to leave at all. In fact, he knocks the everloving shit out of her and drags her off someone where she is bound and tortured for info for some time. There is a small fast forward. A new character, Nero, enters. She is Asayl’s best friend.]

La Volpe: The facade of the tavern did not reflect the room that they had been staying in. Rich colours of red, gold and purple decorated this master sized room, filled the most luxurious things the tavern owners could get their hands on. The king sized bed at the far end of the room even seemed small in comparison; a four-poster bed with crimson soft cotton sheets, semi-transparent purple drapes and an oaken frame that had been stained dark with polish. Cupboards and cabinets were like-wise, gold leaf making intricate patterns upon the doors, silver bowls and other expensive pieces of junk the owners thought would look nice. Whatever Volpe did as a second occupation, he was certainly good at it. Especially for Asayl was a large velvet chair, to which her wrists and ankles would be bound to when not up for one of her routine exercises. It was sat furthest away from any windows, cupboards; anything that she could use to set herself free. Her mask was sat upon a near by cabinet, propped up so its empty eye sockets would peer longingly at her. Just something Volpe found quite amusing. The Fox himself, on this particular morning, was sprawled across the bed, tobacco cigarette betwixt fingers as he casually exhaled smoke from his nostrils. "Buongiorno, singorina. I hope you slept well." He paused to allow a chuckle to rumble in his chest. "I hope today will be more progressive than it has been for the past couple. Surely by now you miss your home enough to divulge me on the information I want. If not, well, I have all the time in the world." He glanced at her from his lying position, grinning a Cheshire grin. "I'm sure a little more time together won't hurt." Eventually he would roll off from where he was, digging his bare toes into the thick carpet beneath them, strolling up to one of the windows. "I have an associate of mine coming here today. He will help keep an eye on you."

Asayl was not happy at all about her situation. Firstly for the stupid mistakes she had made that had gotten her there and secondly for the way she was bound to her luxurious prison without a plan of escape - or much chance at making one. The passing days crawled by a pace that could only be described as torture. But the way Volpe acted, he seemed to be enjoying every moment she was miserable. She would have pretended she was having the time of her life, just to annoy him, but she simply couldn't anymore. Without her usual comforts from home -and her friends and Pheno- it was hard to deal with the pain that constantly tormented her. She slept often just to make things easier on herself. At night, she was likely to keep Volpe awake with her pained whimpers and occasional sobs when the aches got really bad. When she was awake, she didn't talk much. She had talked herself out by the first night. Instead, she sat and and glared him with that certain kind of seething, intense hatred. The news that someone new was coming intrigued her, but pissed her off at the same time. She slumped over in the chair unhappily. Now she would never have a moment alone. She said nothing in response but simply made a grumpy noise to announce that she was peeved by the idea.

Alley Cat had just arrived in that very city only twenty minutes or so, and before making his way up to the room Volpe had with his prisoner, Cat had decided to wander around the interesting place. Not a moment he stepped off the boat he had come in on a group of young delinquents had pick-pocketed him of a few gold coins; so when he approached a food stall and found he was a few coin short he found himself being run off like a stray cat in a kitchen. A little disgruntled by the experience he decided he had enough of the sight-seeing and headed straight toward the tavern his mentor had decided to hole himself up in. After a few whispers with the bartender, he directed the mangy feline toward the room. With a small rapataptap of his knuckles against the door, Cat slipped into the well-decorated room. "Mentor," Cat gave a small, respectful bow before caramel eyes would flash toward the female. "Is this the prisoner, or have I walked in on something here?" Nero Of Wolves: Still she refused to give up, obviously very concerned for her friend and her unannounced absence. It worried her even still to find that the trail led her to a city, which usually held many dangers within itself  Nero stopped and casually leaned against a nearby wall, giving a gentle shake of her head. Calm down and think, she said quietly to herself,  or else you won t be any good for anyone. Where would she be if she were still here?  The lycan thought hard, wondering if Asayl had any friends that she would stay with in the city. Still, that left the question of why she hadn’t left word. No, something was wrong. Her hand lifted and fumbled beneath her curls, bringing out a picture of Asa that she had kept beneath the fabric of her necklace, looking at it with a rather lost expression.   Where are you   she asked to the open air, only lifting her gaze to look around again. A tavern was across the street and to the right. She gave a little shrug, unsure of where else to look at this point. Besides, taverns were usually the places to go looking for someone, wasn’t it? Nero only hoped that these folks weren’t the unpleasant slurry types. Stepping into the tavern, she made her way to the bar and ordered a bit of gin and tonic, just enough to calm her nerves at least. Her eyes looked around, wondering what kind of place this was. Certainly was fancy.

La Volpe's attention was taken away from Asayl as Cat walked through, and at his words a little smirk danced across his lips as he glanced back to her. "Oh, no. Not interrupting anything, this time Gattino." He sauntered over to the chair Asayl sat in, leaning an arm around the back. "She is just a friend of mine. We're playing a little game. She won't give me information, so she's been tied here." He took another draw of his cigarette, blowing the smoke towards her as he got up and walked over to Cat. "She is the reason I summoned you. I need an extra pair of eyes to make sure she doesn't escape. She is one firecracker of a troia." At that he would finish the cigarette, the butt finding its way into a near by glass ashtray. "Keep your eye on her, Gattino. I mean it. She's a smart signorina." And before he disappeared behind the door he'd offer Asayl a little parting smile. Something to remember him by, of course. Volpe would find himself down at the bar, thirsty for something with a little kick despite the time of day. It wasn't like anyone was going to stop him. Another cigarette was lit up; something he didn't do unless stressed, and that was something Asayl was doing, even if he didn't make it far too obvious. Idly his free hand would run across the scar on his face, tracing the groove down towards his lip, deep in thought.

Asayl watched Cat enter, immediately giving him a viciously dirty look. She snorted as Volpe so rudely blow his smoke toward her, shaking her head a little to fan the stuff away. She hated smoke. But otherwise, she remained but a lump on the chair - silent and unhappy. A bit of a disgusted frown found its way to her lips as Volpe smiled at her from the door. She was silent for a long time after he had gone, ignoring this new figure that had been sent to watch her. But after what could appropriately be described as 'forever' according to how it felt, she finally turned to the cat for just enough time to take in what she looked like. Her voice was hoarse, whether from disuse or overuse was a mystery. "Mentor," she scoffed, "what a joke. That man is an arrogant piece of trash." She appeared to be talking to herself. Alley Cat watched as the human exited the room, before eyes returned to the fellow feline. There he stood for a few moments, watching her movements, body language before he would perch himself upon the end of Volpe's bed, not breaking his gaze. He waited for her to speak, though the first couple of moments it seemed she was going to play the silent game. That was okay, he could play that game too, and so he did; peering at the female contently in the silence. Ears twitched at the sound of her voice, and a small smirk coiled the corners of his lips. "Not fond of him, eh? You wouldn't be the first," Cat gave laugh that sounded more like he was getting strangled. "First it's 'Ohmigawd you're so beautiful, handsome, sexy' ... then it's BAM, you asshole! Blah blah blah. You should know, you're a female. You're all crazy like that," The tabby-like creature gave a small, disconcerting wave in her general direction. Though Cat was very fond, and grateful, to Volpe, his skills in seducing women was something he was ever envious of. Tail would flicker awkwardly behind him as he looked curiously at her, head tilting to right slightly.

Nero Of Wolves sat there for a while longer, becoming nervous again despite her efforts to calm herself. She had to keep moving if she were to have any hopes of catching Asayl's trail again, if there was any trace left to begin with. It was then that she smelled it, if only faintly through all the man musk and smoke that dwindled in the air around them, that familiar flowery scent of her dearest friend. She became more alert, though the lycan did so in a way so as not to draw too much attention to herself, pretending to fix her hair while she tried to get a better idea of where it had come from. Her eyes moved over to the man that had sat down only a moment ago, becoming suspicious, though she was only acting on a hunch. Nero had to move closer to find out for sure. Usually, speaking with strange men was out of the question, but nothing would come of it if she meekly stayed in her seat and simply waited for Asa to fall into her lap from the heavens. So, after a little pause, up she stood, taking her drink with her to stand beside the stranger. She offered him a smile, wondering if he was the type that liked to have a lady around each arm. It was risky, but at least she could get away if he wasn't the lead that she thought he might be. "You look like you could use some company. May I...?" Nero only hesitated briefly before taking a seat next to him, unwilling to be rebuffed so soon before she even had time to investigate further. "I'm sorry if you find me a little straightforward. I'm new here, you see..." Her hand moved to bring a bit of hair behind her ear as she spoke, playing a bit more of the 'blonde' than she would've liked, but this tactic usually worked. "My name's Nero," she added at last with a smirk.

La Volpe was pleasantly surprised at the encounter, turning slightly to face the stranger with a soft smile on his lips. "Not at all, signorina. I enjoy all the company I get." He'd purr, quite happy to find another humanoid after having come across so few in the city. "Il suo un piacere conoscerti...ah, excuse me. It is a pleasure to meet you, Nero." He'd offer a handshake, and if taken he would take the back of her hand to his lips; a formal greeting in his society. "You may call me...Angelo." Volpe lied easily through his teeth, "The more straightforward the better. I like a woman that can get straight to the point." Hand that had been touching his scar now patted the seat beside him that she was hovering beside. "What brings you to this city? If you do not mind me asking, if course." Volpe would smile again, leaning an one elbow onto the bar, the other in his lap as he held the cigarette away for her, in case she disliked such things. Asayl sat there with increasing discomfort. The very way Cat spoke grated on Asa, much like Volpe. Funny how things like that rub off. She wouldn't have said much more if he hadn't made the comment about women being crazy. He might of been on to something, but that doesn't mean that she couldn't be offended! For the first time in a week, she laughed. "How would you know? You don't look like the type to get very much attention from any sort of woman." There was no need for her to be nice to him, so she came right out and said it. As long as he didn't turn to torture like his lovely mentor did, she was going to say whatever she damn pleased. She shifted in her four-legged confines, trying to find a way to stop her restraints from digging in so harshly or at least to find some position tolerable for more than two minutes. She went about effectively ignoring Cat while she did this, not hearing many of his comments until after she had either settled or given up.

Alley Cat looked, for a fraction of a second, like he was about to fly right off the end of then bed and attack her, but he quickly regained his cool. "That's fine by me, I never really liked women anyway," Cat gave a casual shrug as he made himself comfortable again, "Females were always so vain, though if you throw a few coins at little sluts like you, looks don't really matter now, do they?" A large grin sprawled across his face as he looked smug with himself, thumb and index finger coming up to rub at one of his twisted whiskers. He didn't expect her to reply, thinking she might go back into the silent treatment again, so Cat made himself more comfortable on the bed, laying down upon his stomach with appendages sprawled, though his golden gaze never left her form. "So," He coughed, rolling slightly onto his side. "Whatcha do to make Volpe tie you up like this?" He thought a casual change in subject would hide his curiosity in the captured femme, though it was poorly disguised.

Nero Of Wolves immediately assumed that this man was from another country, judging by his accent. It wasn't often that she had such an opportunity to speak with foreigners, so she couldn't help her heart skipping a beat or two over it in her excitement. Her hand went to his, but it was during this time that she caught another clue, this time it was obviously coming from his clothing. Whoever this Angelo fellow was, he had made contact with Asayl quite recently. Her suspicions were correct after all. Though, how and why were other questions that needed answering, not to mention 'where was Asa?' With the introductions over with, she gave him a smirk and a nod in reply. "I see. Well if you like the straightforward type, then I will waste no time in asking what's really troubling me..." With that, she revealed the picture from her other hand, placing it on the counter and sliding it a little toward him as she did so. "I'm looking for this woman. She's about... oh," she gestured with her hand as she continued. "this tall... with a little bit of a limpy shuffly walk if she's feeling stiff. Her name's Asayl." Nero watched him with some interest to see if anything quirked his interest, keeping an eye on his body language especially. It wasn't usually the expression that gave people away, it was their posture. One stiff movement or shaky wrist was all she needed to confirm her suspicions. "You haven't seen her have you? She's been missing from home for about a week without a word and I heard from some locals that she was seen around here someplace recently... I'm worried." Nero frowned, her true concerns showing through. She only hoped that he was the truthful type and that he wasn't really the reason for her absence. If anything, he could've easily stolen some poor sap's clothes, leaving the real culprit out on the streets.

La Volpe watched cautiously as he was handed the photo, instantly recognizing the femme in it. Of course, he wouldn't just go 'Oh, I have her tied up in my room. No need to worry!' For a split second he faltered, letting a frown steal away his smile. "I do not know this woman. I am sorry." Volpe offered an apologetic smile as he handed the photo back. "That is quite worrying." He's manage to say, downing his drink so that he did not have to say much. "I can only wish you buona fortuna in finding her." He'd quickly glance at her, flashing a smile. He was good at hiding body language and little quirks people could pick up on, but he nearly completely faltered there. It was something totally unexpected, out of the blue and certainly dampened his plans. He would need to get out of here, with Asayl in tow...but how? "Mi sucsi. I think I am going to go for a stroll. Too nice of a morning to be wasted in here, don't you think?" Volpe had already paid the tender, so only pushed the empty glass to the other side of the bar before getting up from his seat. He'd turn to Nero, though, and offer a bow. "Sorry I could not be of help. If I hear or see anything I will see what I can do." Playing one of his usual lopsided grins before departing, and just as he got out of sight a heavy frown took his face, pinching the arch of his nose tenderly. Barging in on whatever conversation Cat and Asayl were having, he seemed unaware of the two other beings in the room, intent on only locking the door and trotting over to the window, checking for Nero's departure. "There is someone here," He'd eventually say, not bothering to turn around, "Looking for you, signorina. Goes by the name Nero. Do you know who she is?" At this point he was looking towards her now, a dark and most serious look that looked out of place compared to his smirks and smiles. Asayl snorted again. No words actually came from her to respond but with her face and tense body language, it was likely that he could see that he was pissing her off. And how. At least with Volpe, there was a kind of dance their conversations took, filled with sarcasm and fake kindness. But Cat... was just annoying. When he decided to change the subject, she decided her voice could use a little stretching. "That moron of yours attacked me for no reason. All I did was follow him for a bit before trying to get away and the bastard attacked me." She voice was taking up a hint of angry growl and tears were forming in her eyes. It was frustrating to hear herself say these things aloud. "And now he refuses to let me go because I got to see his face and because, apparently, I'm withholding some sort of imaginary bit of information from him." She was dangerously close to crying. And even more dangerously close to being absolutely and completely infuriated. The week of captivity had done a bang-up job of breaking her. Naturally, Volpe would bust in with perfectly terrible timing, though he didn't so much as glance at her. She would have repaid the favor but when Nero's name popped up, her ears flew up and a horrified look crossed her face. If Volpe knew who Nero was and she Nero knew her, that means she must have said something to tip him off. With both of them now in danger, her anger swelled. "Don't you DARE touch her!" She jerked in her confines, shouting for the first time since they had 'met.'

Nero Of Wolves wasn't sure what to make of this fellow. He was charming enough certainly, but the fact that he had made contat with Asa and refused to mention anything about it troubled her immensely. She would've thought little of it if he had stayed to talk with her about other things, but since he seemed to leave in such a hurry, she became increasingly suspicious with a twinge of anger in the lining of her emotions. His words and actions didn't line up and though she bade him a fond farewell, the lycan was eager to follow him and see exactly where he intended to run off to. If anything, she might be so lucky to corner him someplace and get the information she needed if necessary. Nero took her time with her drink at least, surely giving him the impression that he wasn't being followed. Now that he had his scent, it would only be a matter of time before she caught up with him again. Still, her nerves prevented her from staying put much longer before she too paid her way and moved to leave, taking the same path as he had done only a few minutes ago. After all, Asayl may not have much time, depending on what Angelo intened to do with her. It would be a heavy burden indeed if she were responsible for yet another death, especially of someone she held dear to her heart. A deep frown etched itself onto her face, briefly thinking of Enryous and Ero before quickly refocusing on her task with even more determination. It wasn't long before she found them, her ear pressed to the door just in case. She could hear the voice of the stranger, but most importantly, the lycan heard the familiar sound of Asayl.  Many emotions flooded her at once, only briefly glancing around before promptly shouldering the door. Sure, he had locked it, but a little lock was nothing in comparison to her strength, even while in her human form. The door opened with a crash, splinters from the wood flying in the air as her eyes rapidly scanned the room, spotting Asayl in the chair, and her captive. A deep snarl escaped her, the sound of strong loyalties shining through in it as she rushed him, fully intending to pin him to the wall like an insect on display. "LIAR!"

La Volpe instantly let a smirk fall onto his face at Asayl's sudden dismay. "Oh? So she is dear to you, then?" After Cat's dismissal, Volpe went for the box under the bed, though retrieving at such an angle that Asayl would not be able to see what he was doing. And just as he unlocked the damn thing the door seemed to magically blow itself from its hinges. Peering around the side of the bed Volpe could not help but feel surprised and shocked to see Nero. "Cazzo." He cursed quite calmly, quickly slipping on his greaves that contained his valuable hidden blades from the box and taking his war hammer to hand. "You really think I would just tell you I have your friend locked up, puttana?" He snorted. "Stupid girl." Arrogant as he was, he certainly wasn't stupid. A girl that could shatter a door was no ordinary girl. "I'm afraid I can't let her go just now. Once she has given me the information I need, she is free to go. But until then, she stays." As he talked had been slowly slipping on his other armoured parts, chest plate, vambraces; it didn't take long to put them on, and he prepared himself for a possible fight. His grip on the hammer tightened, and he began to brace himself. "If you leave now, I will not have to kill you. Let her stay for a few more days until I get the information I need and she will come home safely. I will make sure of it." But Nero didn't seem like the type to accept such steep demands. In fact, he was more than certain that she would attack without even regarding his offer.

Asayl didn't say anything but stared daggers at him as hard as she could. The way he reached under the bed to get something was suspicious, but she had a feeling she knew what he was getting. She had guessed who he was correctly, yet she hadn't seen him in his mask this whole time. She had opened her mouth to snap some choice words at him, but instead shrieked as the door was rammed in, taken off guard completely. She turned away, just in case any lovely shreds of wood flew in her direction. The alarm quickly turned to utter surprise when the voice of her dear friend reached her ears. At this point, she didn't even know what to think. "Nero?! What the hell are you doing!" Still very much tied to her chair, she was all but useless. But the way Volpe calmly outfitted himself irked her and she continues to fight against the ropes. She was going to have some serious ropeburn to deal with. "Volpe, if you do anything to hurt her, I swear I'll never let you see another day!"She was no killer, as she had mentioned many times to him, but she was willing to make an exception. A very big exception.

Nero Of Wolves found herself becoming angry with him, his arrogant attitude showing through at last, though she had drawn too much attention to herself already. It was time to go, before any reinforcements arrived. Surely the entire tavern heard that clatter, not to mention felt it through the very walls and if this guy was serious, then it was possible that he worked with others to get his dirty work done. The possibilities were endless, but of little concern to her. Right now, her main priority was to get Asayl out of there and fast, especially since her eye caught sight of his hammer. She visibly tensed. Ordinarily she would've taken the risk of hard knocks, but the silver that was embedded in it worried her. Hopefully he didn't know what she was, or else it was possible for him to gain some sort of advantage. The idea now was to keep away from those weapons while making their escape. Her attention focused on him, not considering his proposition in the slightest, though she made her movements in this dance. "You've kept her long enough. She's needed back home. What information could she possibly give you?" It was then that she spied the mask that Asa has made, her brows furrowing a moment before returning her attention to him, stepping closer as she spoke, trying her best to keep her composure.

La Volpe did not know who or what she was, fortunately for her. He presumed that she was just a tall lady that was more than capable of knocking a few heads together. He'd watch as she spied the mask, then watched Asayl's reaction, eyebrows raising in surprise. "Oh, so I take it she hasn't told you? How very sneaky of you, signorina." The latter sentence sounded as if he were scolding a child. But he said nothing of its origins, not yet anyway, wanting to keep at least some control of the situation. "I cannot allow you to do that, Nero." Hands twitched, surreptitiously checking if the hidden blades worked, "If you cannot take my offer, I am afraid you will have to die. She stays here." His tone was more threatening now, like the rising growl of an angry dog, "If you just let her stay, everything will turn out nicely for everyone. We can all ride into the sunset laughing about how silly this was." Despite cracking a joke his tone and body language were tense.

Asayl- "Shut your mouth," she barked at Volpe. Still, this wasn't the best way for Nero to find out that she was still out sporting her mask - or anyone for that matter. For a fleeting moment, she imaged Silv's and Pheno's reacts if Nero let word slipped she had upgraded from coping mechanism to real crimes. Asayl continued to fight the ropes -maybe feeling one get a teeny bit looser after a week of pulling at it- but remain trapped.

Nero Of Wolves didn't exactly know what he was referring to, her eyes looking between Asayl and the stranger with great suspicion, though whatever Asa's reasoning was, it would wait. She watched him, her gaze hardening to more of a cold glare, one that she rarely gave to anyone. "You're in no position to bargain. Your words are nothing but petty lies! If you seriously wanted to give me an option, you would have offered me collateral in return. Asayl is too precious to leave in your care, you two-faced snake, even if you did have something up your sleeve. Either you give her up now, or I'll be forced to tear her away from your coils." All the while she was moving closer to them, so now the stranger and his captive were only a few feet away, though her eyes were always on him, body tense for any sort of movement he made should he attack.

La Volpe would slowly edge his way around towards Asayl, so that Nero would not be able to grab her and run. He stopped for a moment, nearly surprised and turned to give Asayl a quick glance. "So, that is your name signorina. Asayl. Quite unusual." Volpe silently thanked the lycan for giving him another link. He didn't quite like being called a snake, but he couldn't exactly blame her. Lying outright to her face surely would of pissed her off something awful. "I see. Well, it seems we are stuck in this stalemate of sorts." He would then chuckle, "Oh, but I did offer collateral. You get your dear Asayl back alive. Because, I'll let you in on a secret, usually my torture victims don't get out alive, but I am willing to make an exception. So, unless you have another idea I do believe we will be stuck like this for quite some time." Eyes never left Nero as he spoke, though remaining cautious of Asayl behind him. He didn't want to get overpowered by two women; well, not in this situation.

Asayl: [I am half tempted to bite him in the ass] Nero Of Wolves: [LOL] La Volpe: [ I thought you might do something like that. xD I was hesitant to bring him around to Asayl because of it. ] Asayl: [You can skip me this time, I guess. Asa is tied to a chair, the end.]   Asayl: [THOUGH IF HE GETS ANY CLOSER] Asayl: [chompchomp]

Nero Of Wolves scoffed loudly to his face. "Some collateral! You've got nerve, but no brains to back it up. Typical. I hate reptiles like you, always so cold to others and yet blessed with silver tongues. You are an idiot if you think that I would leave her here alone with you for another minute. The least you deserve is castration!" With this, she ceased to speak any further, rushing at him with full force. Her speed rapidly closed the distance between them, so hopefully she might avoid a direct blow from that hammer of his, but her main priority was to knock him down to the ground, much with the impact of a train hitting a car stuck on the tails. If he moved, then it was all the better, because her goal was to simply grab Asayl and make a mad dash out of there.

La Volpe had no time to come up with some witty comeback, when he went to open his mouth Nero was already charging towards him. Out of instinct he brought the weapon around in a sweeping manner, intent on hitting her against the side once the space between them had dissolved, capable of winding her, leaving some really nasty bruises and if he hit the right place even break a few of her ribs. The fleet-footed assassin then, once the hammer had struck or come around in a full swing, create some more space between them, now standing beside Asayl's chair. "Careful cane, you might just end up hurting poor little Asayl." He'd turn to give the feline a pout, though didn't keep his eyes off of Nero for long. She was strong, but he was fast. It would be a battle of skills, and mainly luck. 

Asayl flinched reflexively as they moved in her direction. She growled up at Volpe for using her as a form of defense. How rude! Still, she almost had a foot free now. One foot wasn't much, but it would likely come in handy when the right moment struck. Once she had is loose enough to just barely pull her foot through, she made the decision to leave it where it was. No sense giving it away just yet. She kept fighting to free a hand while dodging their exchanges as much as possible in the meantime.

Nero Of Wolves turned to face him, the impact of his hammer leaving her gritting her teeth, her arm clutching her side, an obviously feral snarl escaping her throat as she glared at him. "I'm not playing games with you. You will regret it if you don't back down now... I'll wager you don't even know what you're up against." Beneath the skin, her body was beginning to cope with the impact, beginning to work its natural healing ability. Still, she was clearly in discomfort, the broken ribs making it painful to breathe. Now he was too close to Asa for her to make that move again. She cursed her luck, all the while trying to keep her cool for fear of losing herself entirely. "Make a move." Nero moved closer to him, dangerously so, hoping to intimidate him into either attacking or moving backward. If he moved back, it might've been possible for Asayl to do her stuff. La Volpe was obviously surprised at the snarl; how could such a sound come from a woman? He got shivers up his spine, the hairs on his arms standing on end. There was something not quite right about her..."I probably don't." He sneered, though he had been considering just fleeing the scene now, and returning for Asayl later. They shouldn't be hard to track now he had their names, and what the looked like. Staying and fighting began to seem like the bad choice, but Volpe remained where he was for now, stuck in the dilemma. He couldn't help but feel as though she were trying to pressure him into something, attack her so she could counter attack, or send in an ambush of more friends that were lying in wait. Attacking would be bad, as Nero looked as though she could just shrug another attack off, but creating more distance meant the chance of loosing Asayl to her. In the end, however, he decided to attack, coming at her would an over-the-shoulder swing that would thump into the ground if it missed, causing shock waves that would shake the walls of the room and the ceiling below the floor. He was attempting to drive Nero back, away from Asayl, so that he needn't worry about the two at the same time.

Asayl- Without being directly in Volpe's line of sight now, she was really given the freedom of working on getting those ropes off. Using her free foot, she kicked at the knot in attempt to loosen it. It would take more than a few seconds to achieve enough room to liberate that foot also, but would manager somehow. Now with both feet free, she employed her teeth to try and free her hands but with the rope burn from her struggling, it made for an unpleasant and slow process. Hopefully Nero would distract Volpe enough to keep him from turning on her.

Nero Of Wolves saw the opportunity immediately after he lifted his arms, leaving his entire chest area open in a split second before he began the down stroke. This tiny opening is all she needed, pushing into him in hopes of dropping him to the floor. Nevertheless, the hammer came down squarely on her back, though not with the intended force. It was enough to cause her severe pain, instead of breaking her spine in two. She couldn't help but scream, her voice deepening in several octaves as she did so, a lycan snarl accompanying it soon after. Once her attacker was either on the floor, or at least farther away from Asayl, she stood, her eyes focusing on him in a new way. The irises had changed color entirely, though she still held a shred of dignity and clung to it like it were life itself. It was time to leave. Now. She was already in too deep. Nero quickly moved to Asayl with every intention of lifting her, with the chair if she had to and make an escape out the window. La Volpe stumbled at the push, and was about to go down before he tucked himself into an elegant roll of sorts, rolling onto his shoulder instead of landing on his back, now instead of lying flat on his ass he was several meters away. He grew ever more certain that Nero was not entirely human, if human at all. There was too much space between him and them to be able to make up for lost time, with Nero on the move and Asayl steadily untying herself, he was fighting a loosing battle. "Merde." He cursed out loud, scrambling into one of his equipment pockets and pulling out what seem like a little grey ball. But when he threw it to the ground at Asayl's feet it became more apparent what it was. A smoke bomb. Thick grey smoke curled around the two, capable of choking, obscuring everything in sight when caught inside. Now, he was stuck. He could try taking Asayl and have Nero give chase, or just fleeing entirely, going back to his previous plan. Was Asayl really worth the risk of getting a beat down by an inhuman humanoid? No woman was, really, not in his current opinion anyway. He would rather live than getting maimed half way of dragging the feline out of the tavern like some mustachioed villain stealing the damsel away. "You win, for now. But I'll be back for you dear Asayl." He'd chuckle before any sight or sense of him was gone. When the smoke eventually cleared it became obvious that he was gone. All the equipment in the box and Asayl's mask were gone too along with any evidence at all to Volpe ever being there.

[Will continue in part 2 with the aftermath of this when Asayl is returned home]

[palteringcecutiency]

==> Psii: Worry.

palteringcecutiency ...how is he doing? Do you know?

caepaecaesurae .. Nadaya? > Time to Squirm A Lot, due to the dualscar talk you've been doing with him . . .

palteringcecutiency Of course not. I was thinking of that other troll we both speak to that is suddenly a wiggler. Yes Cronus. Nadaya.

caepaecaesurae WVell pardon me for not being psychic.  I don't knowv, though he sounds like he's settling some.  WVe're still establishing a rapport, I'll be asking howv he is once he's not flailing at the wvorld.

palteringcecutiency Lord Cronus catch up with the rest of us. Mindreading makes everything so much easier. ...alright. That's better than I had feared thank you.

caepaecaesurae I'll keep you as updated as I can.

palteringcecutiency It's appreciated a great deal.

caepaecaesurae A psionic wvas stern to him, and he is ""fine"".  ...I'vwe offered my protection and assistance, but I think that's the best I can do right nowv.

palteringcecutiency Yes I saw the sternness and it is taking every ounce of my willpower to not rip into them for it. Do you know if he is alone? I am not volunteering myself obviously but someone to hide behind may help.

caepaecaesurae I sympathise entirely. I'm...trying to find that out, as gently as I can. He at least has his cats.

palteringcecutiency Cats are quite helpful little things. Especially in cases like these.

caepaecaesurae He has a moirail present apparently.

palteringcecutiency A relief.

> A great deal of time passes, enough for Cae’s queue to post and for him to say he’s logging off.

palteringcecutiency If I was in the mood to fight I would've gone after my alternate. In case this affects anything.

caepaecaesurae > Time to quietly squirm and debate whether you want to admit you were running or not..

palteringcecutiency > It's not as if you weren't familiar with his running, having called him out on it so many times. And you did word that statement in a way that didn't imply he was running either...

caepaecaesurae It doesn't particularly.  I could stay if desired, but a tumblr glitch annoyed me a bit.  Enough to take a break.

palteringcecutiency Quite understandable this hell site seems full of them. And I have nothing worth dragging you back onto it for I just thought I would remind.

caepaecaesurae > ...Was he trying not to scare you, trying to cajole and provoke you back into a trap, or speaking idly without ulterior motive. Pardon the narrowv miss.

palteringcecutiency > The first, but would he even believe you if he found out? It hardly makes sense, except that you're rather acutely aware of being frightening, and not in a good way. It is fine. Some things are hard to spot especially while distracted.

caepaecaesurae Hard to spot?

palteringcecutiency The connection between the two. Unless you were speaking of something else?

caepaecaesurae There's no connection betwveen you showving up and me stepping awvay

palteringcecutiency No I did not think there was. But between your queue's post and my being around... I thought perhaps.

caepaecaesurae > And time for more squirming. I probably should havwe savwed that in my drafts wvhen I found it. Rather than bothering wvith a queue.

palteringcecutiency Even knowing it has done nothing?

caepaecaesurae > Pinned fins. ... I wvouldn't wvant Sal to think I wvas aiming it at him.

palteringcecutiency ...mm. Understandable. > Not that you believe that's the reason for a second, but. Not much you can do when you're trying not to frighten him. Awkwardly.

caepaecaesurae Anywvay you don't need me cluttering the dashboard.

palteringcecutiency I would disagree that's what you've done but I can hardly keep you where you do not want to be.

caepaecaesurae > Captor moodswings were baffling and impenetrable and you didn't understand.  For a moment you seriously considered attempting to chart them against moon phases, before deciding it would be a hassle to learn about the local moon. I'm sure I could clutter it.

palteringcecutiency I have no doubt you could if you put your pan to it. I was speaking of what has already happened.

caepaecaesurae heh.. I hadn't been

palteringcecutiency Hadn't you? My apologies.

caepaecaesurae Drawv anything interesting lately?

palteringcecutiency > Damn it. The blatant topic change wasn't much better than him bolting, but at least it's something. Hhhh. A few things. Memories of Alternia and Beforus mostly places I remember people whose faces I recall. I've no idea if I have gotten them right but it hardly matters at this point.

caepaecaesurae Blind, tonight? You mentioned commas in passing, once.

palteringcecutiency Well remembered. c: But that is not the hindering factor. I can tell where my pencil marks just fine. I was speaking of the accuracy of my memories and being unsure of details after so long.

caepaecaesurae More than fair. I'vwe been trying to make things from thin air, lately.  Embellished evweryday items. Putting memories to page is.. difficult.

palteringcecutiency Like gilding mundane objects? I could see that being rather amusing. It can be. I was better at it on Beforus than Alternia as bizarre as that is.

caepaecaesurae I create the items, though I suppose I might be able to edit them if I try... ... I think Beforus had more artistic inclination in general. And fostered it better.

palteringcecutiency Ah. I suppose that makes more sense but I cannot shake the image of you adding gold and jewels to everything you own as you get displeased with its boring nature. ...I cannot argue with that however. It did if only for giving me ready access to paper and proper writing implements.

caepaecaesurae I savwe many of the gold and jewvels for Treasure.  Not quite all, but most. You should havwe had that on Alternia as wvell.  .. I imagine apologies get tiring to hear, after a wvhile.

palteringcecutiency A good use for them. c: ...only when I am not in the mood to hear them. I was mostly speaking of after I'd escaped. Paper was not high on the priority list a luxury I did not obtain often. And when I did I mostly drew with ashed sticks from the fire. Far easier to obtain than pencils and the like. I made it work of course but finding my sylladex full of sketchbooks was a bit startling.

caepaecaesurae One of the fewv consolation prizes perhaps.

palteringcecutiency Yes. And beyond that the ability to acquire colors to add.

caepaecaesurae A marvwel.

palteringcecutiency This place has its moments even I will admit.

caepaecaesurae Is there much difference betwveen papers and the computer wvays?

palteringcecutiency There is quite a bit. Pencil and paper interact with each other differently. There's bumps and edges to catch on the pencil wears in different ways all sorts of variables to wrangle. The connection between tablet and computer is far more limited they do not directly interact in the way pencils and paper do but there are a great many techniques and tools open to play with and get used to each having a different purpose.

caepaecaesurae It makes paper and pencil sound like a hassle.

palteringcecutiency Any art at all is a hassle a struggle between artist and the medium until the artist learns how to talk to their medium and to listen to it in return.

caepaecaesurae Tricking the tools into wvorking wvith you

palteringcecutiency Or finding a way get what you want out of what they can do. Either or depending on the materials involved.

caepaecaesurae Fair enough I wvas nevwer a grand hand at sketching.  I knewv just enough to mark my impressions of things in my journals if I felt like it. Seldom more than basic maps and loose impressions of horn shapes and symbols

palteringcecutiency I am quite unsure how I learned per say aside from idle doodling that grew into something more. It just... makes sense. You've got your claws into music though. I am unsurprised sketchwork is a mystery as I find creating music to be the same.

caepaecaesurae I suppose it depends entirely wvhat one practices. I think it's easiest to begin music from vwoice wvork or drums.  One must knowv the fundamentals, but there's little wvorrying about keys and chords and theory.  Fewv tools invwolvwed, either.

palteringcecutiency There's some logic to that assuming of course that the student was not impatient for bigger things.

caepaecaesurae ... True. VWocal wvork suits the impatient wvell, though. Glamorous enough wvhen done wvell, quick to do wvell if you put enough effort into it, and painfully bad wvhen rushed, in a wvay more obvwious to the audience than the singer.

palteringcecutiency A compelling argument I must say. Though I've not really considered dabbling in the musical before.

caepaecaesurae It's an art that burns time, rather than materials.

palteringcecutiency Heh. That would've been a far smarter art to practice while on Alternia then. Hindsight and all that.

caepaecaesurae ... It's hard not to imagine the engineer reports.

palteringcecutiency The haunting voice of the Angel.

caepaecaesurae "...been singing about howv I dropped my pen for SIX WVEEKS STRAIGHT NOWV--" Perhaps.  WVhen you wveren't using it for mockery.

palteringcecutiency I am going to mourn this lost opportunity until my final days. Imagine Her face trying to deal with it. Narrating Her night to night tasks with song. It would be more than worth it.

caepaecaesurae ♪ Form 887 can be found in the ♪re♪fer♪ence♪ desk ♪ ♪ That soup looks like ga-a-a-A-a-ar-bage ♪ ♪ Yes it makes you look  ♪♪fat♪♪

palteringcecutiency Lord I am going to bust something laughing at this. You realize the text is being read off in monotone right?

caepaecaesurae I hope the tasteful punctuation is helping.

palteringcecutiency MUSIC NOTE THAT SOUP LOOKS LIKE GA A A A A AR BAGE MUSIC NOTE

caepaecaesurae ♪ Performance nominal ♪ I ah.  I think the monotone adds a lot.

palteringcecutiency It most certainly does. It's two hundred times better.

caepaecaesurae > You wish you had more to say, but you're just delighted at the relatively clear air.  ..You keep looking back at Psii's last message every once in a while, debating what a proper reply would be. ... I wvonder howv hard it wvould be to autotune text to speech. > Perfect.

palteringcecutiency > Send file: yourewelcome.mp3 > It took you an embarrassing amount of time to wrangled this, considering how well you know this system that you built yourself, huff, but you manage. Your text to speech voice is not as monotone as it could be but it's remarkably bland sounding, hitching once in a while in an awkward tone-deaf fashion, and it is reading out a shoddily written half-poem song littered with musical notes. You remain a terrible wordsmith but you gave it your best shot, giving him a bored robot reading about the thrill of Her choosing what jewelry to wear some evening past and your opinion on such a thing. Oh goodness I'd definitely like to find out.

caepaecaesurae I'm backing this up to my fake computer as soon as I get the chance...

palteringcecutiency c:

caepaecaesurae There's no reason robots can't be singsong

palteringcecutiency There isn't and lord I beg you to remind me what a terrible idea it would be to modify this program. I would never be able to say anything I'd be too busy being unable to breathe.

caepaecaesurae I'm sure it could be strategic about wvhich messages to relay.. Artistically

palteringcecutiency That would certainly be less hazardous but what would even be the cut off? Music notes seem reasonable but they hardly come up and if it never gets used what is the point?

caepaecaesurae Unecessary capitalization wvould be a delightful one Or random chance Keywvords

palteringcecutiency Oo yes definitely the capitalization. Random chance would be delightful for boring nights where I'm just lurking. Keywords would be fun depending on the words chosen which would take careful thought. ...perhaps depending on who is speaking would be interesting. Or a toggle to make boring conversations more exciting.

caepaecaesurae I'm sure you wvould use this capacity responsibly, and I look forwvard to if you evwer get caught listening to it.

palteringcecutiency Oh yes certainly. I wouldn't dare think of using it inappropriately and as often as I can get away with it.

caepaecaesurae Surely Imagine if it only sang messages wvorth a certian number of scrabble points So the long ones, and the ones wvith odd wvords in them ...

palteringcecutiency Words with a certain number of syllables or more especially if it's more than enough to go up and down the scale.

caepaecaesurae ... Most trolltags wvould end up sung.

palteringcecutiency They would which would make telling posts apart easier. This one is written by Cronus~ and this one is your descendant~~~~ Goodness Nadaya's posting~~ Perhaps muffled explosions would be better for his.

caepaecaesurae Staccato -- clashing pitches NAdaYA is POSTing High, lowv, high, lowv Or just 10% louder than anyone else.

palteringcecutiency Why not both?

caepaecaesurae Your poor ears

palteringcecutiency Perhaps. But it would be worth it to try once at least.

[upshotre]

Traders, others count losses at Lagos fair

By Tony Ademiluyi THE Lagos International Trade Fair ((LITF) considered a showstopper of some sort judging by the frills and thrills that usually attend the ceremony lost its shine at this year’s edition which ended today. The week-long event, to say the least, didn’t live up to its billing if the words of some participants are anything to go by. The LITF, a brainchild of the Lagos Chamber of Commerce and Industry, is not just considered the largest international exhibition in West Africa, but is actually the premier international trade fair in Nigeria with the spectacular 10-day event usually starting on the first of November every year. A brief history of LITF The fair began in 1977 and was officially taken over by the LCCI in 1986, attract participants different continents including China, Japan, Belgium, Sweden, India, Portugal, Indonesia, Ghana, Egypt, Jordan, Pakistan, Turkey, Cameroun, Kenyan, Singapore, Jamaica, Republic of Benin, South Africa, among others. 2019 edition of LITF This year’s event, which was the 33rd edition, with the benefit of hindsight was devoid of some of the goodies that make the famous Lagos fair tick. In the previous year, over 2,000 exhibitors, including 200 foreign exhibitors and about 5, 000 visitors attended the fair. This year, about 3,000 exhibitors, including 300 foreign exhibitors participated while 500,000 and 600,000 visitors were being expected. Factors that marred fair A constellation of factors, which border on the superficial to the complex may have marred the just concluded fair, chief among which is the issue of poor economy, some analysts said. The land border closure, according to event watchers may have literally taken the sail out of the fair’s wind. Firing the first salvo, the LCCI Director-General, Muda Yusuf, while addressing a symposium to herald the special business to business fair in Lagos, said the land border closure may have had rippled adverse effect in the way the exercise turned out. According to him, naturally patronage at the fair was not as one would expect, as exhibitors from West Africa may be restricted from entering the country with their goods and other items to display at the fair through the border. “Quite a number of our exhibitors are still stocked at the border, waiting for the opening or some sort of waiver to allow them come in with their consignment for the fair. Some of them have been there for the past six days with their luggage and products they want to display. So far, there has been no luck,” he said. He, however, said the exhibitors had shown keen interest in the fair as they had not opted out and were hopeful that something would be done. He said the exhibitors were prepared for the fair, and that backing out might not be on their cards as many have already paid for the spaces in the hall dedicated for exhibitors from the African sub-regions. The LCCI boss noted that the closure might affect the smooth business relationship the country has with these sub-regions as most of their legitimate inter-trade businesses have been hampered. “These exhibitors have made so much investment in preparation for the fair. It is ideal for them to have returns of their investment.  This could affect the business relationship they have with Lagos and the country as a whole these sub regions might retaliate. Normally, a situation like this affects mutual trade relationship in the sub-region. About 90 per cent of trade between Nigeria and other West African countries takes place by road.  So, when the border is closed, that means those trading are cut off. “The closure is affecting us because we have reserved a hall for those coming from African countries and over 60 per cent of the foreign exhibitors are coming from Africa. So, it is greatly affecting us. Besides, we have expended so much on this fair. There is need for quick intervention from the government,” he said. He remarked that the fair would facilitate business networking and provide opportunity for visitors to shop varieties of items of their choice. Beyond the fair, Yusuf who commented on the impact of the border closure on businesses in the country explained that though the closure had recorded some benefits in terms of reduction in smuggled rice, poultry products, sugar and petroleum products, it has greatly accounted for loss on trade. He advised that as the nation celebrates the benefits of  the closure, it should also note the jobs that have been lost, increase in price of goods, legitimate export of goods to sub-regions have been halted, intermediate products for some manufacturers have been cut off, multinational companies de-linked from their sister companies in the sub region. While noting that the country export agricultural and manufactured products, such as detergents, toothpastes, plastic products, steel products, kitchen utensils, grains, ginger, and onions, he said these losses run into billions of naira. “Most often we do not count the cost of government policy on the citizen and businesses. We should not underestimate the contribution of trade and commerce to the economy of the country. Distributive trade sector accounts for about 15 percent of the nation’s GDP), which is estimated at N20trillion naira. “Traders play a major role in the value chain of the real sector activities in the economy.  The trade sector is perhaps the largest employer in the economy,” he said. The Chairman, Trade Promotion Board, LCCI, Gabriel Idahosa, however, said the border closure may not have affected the outcome of the fair. “In fact, some of these exhibitors are here with us today, and we are still expecting more before the close of the fair. The border closure will not affect this fair,” Idahosa said. Light at the tunnel Meanwhile, the President of LCCI, Mr Babatunde Ruwase has however assured that things may soon begin to look up for the sector. According to him, the LITF had the sole aim of boosting the volume of trade among African nations. Ruwas spoke in Lagos on Thursday, during the Africa Special Day celebration organised as part of the ongoing trade fair. While lamenting the low volume of intra-African trade compared to other continents, he said, “The total trade from Africa to the rest of the world averaged $760bn between 2015 and 2017, behind Europe, which stood at $4.11tn; America, $5.14tn; and Asia, $6.81tn. “These numbers tell us that intra-African trade is extremely low; hence, the reason the Lagos Chamber of Commerce and Industry organised this event to promote integration and cooperation among African businesses.” He was, however, quick to add that the African Continental free Trade Area agreement was a welcome development, adding, “We believe the pact will boost trade on a continent with a population of 1.2 billion and market size of about $2.5tn as it allows members to specialise in their areas of comparative advantage.” Echoing similar sentiments, the Managing Director, Nigerian Export-Import Bank, Abba Bello, who was represented by the Technical Adviser to the MD, Mr Hope Youngo, said the intra-African trade was projected to grow by over 22 per cent and that the good thing for Nigeria was that despite its challenges, it was a manufacturing hub. Interestingly, the Lagos State Governor, Babajide Sanwo-Olu holds the view and very strongly too that most foreign businesses that want to set up shop in the country need to consider opening factories here. Sanwo-Olu, who also graced the opening ceremony of the Special Business to Business Fair at the ongoing Lagos International Trade Fair at Onikan, Lagos, added that his administration would create an enabling environment for organisations from Asia to operate in the state. The B2B fair segment was organised by the Chief Executive Officer, MD Perspective Nigeria Limited, Mrs Morenike Dele-Alimi, with the President, United Asia International Exhibition Group, Mr Ni Liqun, as the chief host. “According to the Chinese Consul General in Lagos, Mr Chu Maoming, total trade between China and Nigeria stood at $8.6bn in the first half of 2019.” Cheery news Reacting to complaints against the border closure from sections of the Nigerian economy and neighbouring countries in Abuja recently, the governor of Central Bank of Nigeria, Mr. Godwin Emefiele said there has been an “astronomical growth” in the number of rice farmers and local production of the commodity has increased “exponentially” in recent years. Mr. Emefiele said the border closure is a means of rejuvenating Nigeria’s economy and creation of employment opportunities. Ade Adefeko, a senior executive in charge of corporate relations with the food giant Olam, said investment in Nigerian agriculture was being hamstrung by the rice trafficking, which is estimated to reach two million tonnes a year. Olam has the biggest rice-growing business in Nigeria, owning 13 000 hectares (30 000 acres) of cultivable land of which only 4 500 hectares are being used because the sector is “not profitable” in the face of competition from Asian rice, he said. But “since the border closure, locally-milled rice has started selling, and the entire rice value chain has been positively impacted by the closure,” Adefeko said. He called for the border closure to be maintained “until the end of the year, and see how it goes on a longer term.” Between 10 and 20% of Nigerian manufactured goods are sold to other countries in West Africa, with many of these items, such as pasta and cosmetics, exported through informal routes, mainly through small sellers who travel around the region. Not all gloom It was not all gloom at the venue of the fair as most of the exhibitors gave out freebies to visitors who throng their stand. For instance, hordes of visitors thronged a stand to get a taste of a free porridge meal offered by a Japanese woman married to a Nigerian, Mrs Umi Opara, at one of the exhibition stands at the venue. Many others were also sighted at another exhibition stand where free braiding of hair was offered by Kanekalon Beauty Consult, Japan. Opara, Manager, Uma Curry Mix Seasoning Paste, said the porridge she was offering was prepared using the seasoning in a bid to introduce it to the Nigerian populace. The manager, who is attending the fair for the third time, said that the seasoning, made with natural ingredients, contains vitamins that sharpen the brain. “The curry mix seasoning contains tomatoes, thyme, pepper, onions and other seasoning and it is sold for N5000 for a pack,” she said. Also, at the Kanekalon Beauty Consult stand, a group of young ladies were seen competing to have their hair braided free by the Japanese company. Mr Hiroshi Seko, General Manager, Kanekalon Africa Liaison Office, said that the ladies started trooping in early. According to him, a raffle draw will be held later in the day and two winners will get free meals or go home with wigs for free. The General Manager said the company also introduced a new shampoo and hair moisturizers to the market and the free offer would continue daily till the end of the fair. He commended the organisers of the fair, which he said, was getting better yearly.

Read the full article

[zipgrowth]

How a Fourth-Grader Turned Me Into a Book Detective

In almost every way, it was an ordinary day in the library. Fourth graders chatted as they milled about, making book selections and needing the occasional reminder that library is not the same as recess. In hindsight, though, it was a day when magic sparked. That was the day I had my first conversation with Jane.

Each year, Missouri’s school librarians association nominates a handful of fiction books for its annual middle grade book award. The list covers books aimed at fourth- through sixth-grade, with reading levels that vary widely within that range. When the list comes out, the fourth graders dig in to tackle the books, even though some of the novels can be daunting. Many selections contain deeper themes, more complex plots and sophisticated literary devices. The kids push beyond their comfort zone, seeking to meet the challenge issued by me: Read six of the ten books and at the end of the year we’ll gather for a pizza party to celebrate your accomplishment.

Some people think that it’s the pizza that draws them to the challenge, but I know that no amount of pizza is enough to lure a kid to read six challenging novels in a year. They might start out chasing the pizza carrot, but in the end, they’re there for the chance to talk about the stories with one another. The pizza is just a bonus.

This year, one of the books on the list, “Nine, Ten: A September 11 Story” by Nora Raleigh Baskin, is a novel told in voices. It tells the story of four young people around the country experiencing the Sept. 11 attacks—one voice per chapter, alternating characters from beginning to end. It’s a challenging type of book to read, as your mind is tasked with keeping track of which character is speaking and piecing together a story arc that gets interrupted whenever a new chapter begins.

Jane had decided she was up to the challenge. Her teacher, Mrs. Lanning, wanted to support her students in taking on tough reads, and called me over for a quick conference. Another student in the class had tackled this same story earlier this year, and while she finished the book, the student had reflected that she had some holes in her understanding.

Part of my job as library media specialist is to confer with students and provide them guidance, not only in choosing books to read, but also checking for comprehension and making sure that the book is a good fit. Listening to feedback from students, observing the struggles (and successes) they have while reading is a crucial part of my work. So when it came to “Nine, Ten,” I had some ideas of how to make the text more accessible to Jane and get her off on the right foot.

And so it began.

The conference started like most of them do—with some teacherly guidance from me on how Jane could increase her comprehension. I pointed out that four different characters tell the story in turns and that the shift in voice is critical to understanding the novel. I wrapped up our conversation with a couple of suggestions to accommodate for that structure.

I also offered to touch base with Jane after she had read a few chapters just to see how the strategies were working for her. During those conferences, we collaboratively tweaked the process. Each time we met, our conversation shifted a bit more from the teacher-guided talking points I start off with to Jane sharing her own ideas for making sure she didn’t miss a single key detail.

She had taken my suggestion to read each character’s story straight through—essentially turning the novel into four separate novellas, each from a different perspective. But as she read, she started jotting down poignant tidbits and character motivations. During our meetings, I found myself in awe of the details she had uncovered, deepening not only her understanding of the book, but mine as well.

In our school library, we strive to be a true learning community, where students and librarians engage with one another and help each other grow. As Jane finished the book, I asked her if she might be willing to capture her process in a reader’s guide—a tool that might help others enjoy the story to the depth that she had.

A draft and several edits later, we had a piece of work, perfectly sized to fit inside the front cover of the book, ready to support readers in getting the most out of the story. In her guide, Jane noted that the novel’s structure can be confusing due to the shift in voices from chapter to chapter, and she listed several suggestions for managing that confusion. She proposed reading each character’s voice separately, and taking the time to recognize that each chapter also brings a shift in setting. And she also added her detailed character notes and general reflections.

That guide has now been added to each copy of the novel in our school library and shared with our district librarians for use in their copies as well. It even scored a retweet from the author. All told, a resounding success. But that wasn’t the end of it.

As Jane continues to read, digging into other novels on our award nominee list, she is putting into practice the careful attention to detail she honed while reading “Nine, Ten.” She notices the bits and pieces of an author’s craft:

Examining the symbolism of bird-related words used by Joan Bauer in “Soar”

Asking questions about black history while unpacking “Walking With Miss Millie” by Tamara Bundy

Recognizing that novels told in voices vary in structure as she read “Save Me a Seat” by Sarah Weeks and Gita Varadarajan.

When the Student Becomes the Teacher

Jane has, in no uncertain terms, made me a better reader. Since working on the reading guides with her, I have slowed down, taking time to savor those moments where the symbolism shines, noting when the author has pulled in fascinating nuggets of history and finding the joy in unpacking the author’s craft.

Her enthusiasm is contagious—the reading community in her classroom has been strengthened, her conversations with her friends about books goes deeper and she feels empowered to tackle books that she previously described as “maybe too big.”

Her teacher will tell you that Jane was a strong reader at the beginning of the year—capable of making predictions, noting the story elements and expressing her reading accomplishments in the number of pages read in an evening. Now, her teacher says, Jane pays attention to a character’s perspective, asks probing questions, and doesn’t always take the novel at face value, choosing to dig in and find the treasures left there by the author.

She considers herself a “book detective,” and she’s showing her friends how to do that too. When she reads, she’s constantly taking notes, asking questions, seeking expert answers, spotting precise word choice and piecing ideas together.

As educators, we often think we need to have all the answers and use that expertise to guide our students. For me, my conversations with Jane have driven home a powerful lesson: Sometimes the most powerful learning happens when the student is the teacher.

What happens when we open ourselves to our students’ thinking, when we let their ideas guide our work, when let them lead us, teach us, show us their own perspectives? I’ll tell you what: magic.

And it all started with a simple conversation on an otherwise ordinary day.

How a Fourth-Grader Turned Me Into a Book Detective published first on https://medium.com/@GetNewDLBusiness