#electric portcullis

[soulsoaringphan]

Reviving my tumblr to tell you all I’ve finally had an electric portcullis show! Honestly still in shock 😂 13 years and it finally happened!

[angelasscribbles]

The Dark Kingdom Chapter 2: The Dark Lord

Series: The Dark Kingdom

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Liam x Riley (the dark lord x the runaway princess I mean lol)

Word Count: 1,377

Rating: MA for eventual adult themes/trauma mentioned

Warnings for this chapter: none

A/N: Stăpâni is Romanian for master.

My other stuff: Master List.

They made their way through the night, Drake and Leo effortlessly and noiselessly; Riley stumbling to keep up with Drake. Every time she lagged too much, Leo shoved her from behind. Leo scared her so she struggled to stay closer to Drake.

“Fuck humans are slow!” Leo complained, “At this rate, it’s going to take until morning to make it home.”

Drake stopped walking abruptly and Riley ran right into his back. He tilted his head as if listening to something she couldn’t hear. Then he turned to her and said, “I’m going to carry you. When I pick you up, put your arms around my neck and hold on tight.”

“What?”

He never answered. Instead, she found herself swept into his arms, her eyes wide as she stared up into his, their faces inches apart. Her arms went around his neck instinctively. Her heart rate accelerated as he pressed her close to his body and she silently chastised herself for noticing the strong jawline and broad shoulders.

As if reading her mind, he smirked down at her, “Don’t let go,” he said then he took off at an impossible speed. The scenery was dizzying as it rushed by, so she tightened her grip around him, squeezed her eyes shut, and buried her head in his chest as they ran.

She had no idea how long or how far they had gone when he slowed down to something closer to human speed. She lifted her head and took in the castle in the distance.

It was dark and foreboding with towers and turrets everywhere. Nestled into the side of the tallest mountain she’d ever seen, the lighting spilling from it was anything but warm and inviting. Her pulse quickened again but from fear and curiosity this time.

Her attention was pulled upward as a deafening roar sounded above them. She watched in awe as what could only be a dragon glided overhead.

When they reached the portcullis, two guards grasped the metal rings on the impossibly large and heavy doors and pulled them open as if they weighed nothing.

Drake stepped over the threshold and lowered her gently to the floor, the stone cold on her bare feet.

“This way,” he commanded then turned and strode further into the castle, not bothering to look back to see if she was following.

She glanced behind her to see Leo ogling her menacingly from the doorway. She scurried quickly after Drake.

After several minutes and a confusing number of turns, he stopped in front of an ornate door and pushed it open, “In here.”

She stepped out of the darkened medieval hallway into a different world.

The study was brightly lit from an unseen source, a fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace and the opulence of the room itself rivaled anything she had ever seen at the palace.

Despite the grandeur of the furnishings, the room was almost cozy. A red velvet settee faced the fire, books were stacked on an end table and spilling from the shelving units.

There was a movement to her right as a man rose from a giant oaken desk, “This is the interloper?”

His voice sent warmth and electricity cascading down her spine. She froze in place as he stalked toward her.

“Yes, Stăpâni,” Drake replied.

“And there were no others?” The man moved closer peering at her intently. The dark lord looked like an ordinary human, but he didn’t move like one. He was tall with raven hair and ebony eyes, his movements more fluid and graceful than any man she had ever seen.

Her insides liquified under the intensity of his gaze.

Drake answered as the dark lord continued his appraisal, “No, we searched the borderlands and the buffer zone. The others turned back at the perimeter.”

The raven-haired man directed his next question to her, “Why were the others there? What did they want? Why did they turn back? And don’t lie to me, I’ll know.”

Staring up into his eyes, she believed him. She quailed under his scrutiny, “They….they were chasing me, sir…Lord….They turned back because they thought I wouldn’t have been foolish enough to cross the partition.”

Surprise flitted through his eyes, “You were running from them?”

“Yes, my Lord,” she lifted her head and jutted her jaw out as she answered. She would not cry. Come what may, she would face it head-on. She told herself that she was no longer afraid, that she had left fear behind when she had fled the palace. If death was the sentence for crossing the partition and breaking the treaty, then she would willingly pay it.

The dark lord took a step nearer and peered at her closer.

Her dress was mulberry silk with hand-stitched embroidery, wildly expensive and indulgent. Her dark auburn hair was long and glossy, her skin glowed with good health, and she had an adequate amount of weight to her. These things screamed that she was from a family of means and her basic needs had not been neglected.

And yet.

The hem of her dress was filthy and torn, her feet were bare and caked with dirt and blood. Her hair was disheveled, her arms were covered in scratches.

He could hear her heart pounding in her chest and smell her fear and yet she stood ramrod straight, her chin thrust defiantly out belying the sheer terror he read on her scent. She was strong and determined. Traits he admired.

His gaze fell to her fists, clenched tightly at her side.

“Let me see your hands,” he commanded.

“What?”

“Your hands!” the man behind her shoved her for emphasis.

“There’s no need for that,” the man in front of her shook his head at the other before turning his gaze back to her and adopting a gentler tone, “Your hands please.”

She shakily lifted and then thrust both hands out toward him, palms up. Dirt and blood were caked under her ragged, broken nails, her fingertips were raw, her palms scraped.

His head tipped to one side as he studied them, his eyes flicking from her hands to her face before reaching out toward her, “May I?”

She nodded meekly.

He grasped her right arm, his fingers sliding across the velvety softness of her skin to run soothingly over the abrasions.

She shivered as his touch somehow eased the pain and sent little shocks of pleasure jolting through her.

“You did this climbing up the mountain?”

She nodded.

Liam Rys had lived a very long time. Not many things surprised or confused him anymore, but both those emotions washed through him as he studied the quaking girl in front of him.

She was scared, but not of him. She had left a privileged existence to scale a mountain at great physical cost to herself and now stood before him with an almost challenging air about her, seemingly unphased by her physical wounds.

“Why?” He asked quietly.

“To get away from my family,” she whispered, eyes finally dropping to the floor.

Liam felt something startling and unexpected fill his chest: protectiveness. Something unthinkable must have happened to her to make facing his wrath the better alternative.

This human woman was a stranger to him. Her mere presence in his lands was a violation of a treaty, a threat to a decades-long ceasefire. The delicate balance between the human lands below and his own was always precarious, this was an added wrinkle neither side needed.

She shouldn’t be here, and he couldn’t harbor her if she was running from some wrongdoing. He would be within his rights to execute her on the spot for her transgression and return her dead body to the humans. It would serve as both proof and a warning that the Dark Kingdom still honored the terms of the armistice.

He knew what he should do, but as he studied her oddly compelling mix of vulnerability and strength, he found neither the resolve to harm her nor the inclination to return her to the human realm, consigning her to whatever hell she was running from.

He found himself captivated by her bravery and deeply curious about her situation. He wasn’t ready to judge her yet.  

Information, he decided. He needed more information.                                                                                                                          

[costhursdays]

The party, pleased with their disregarding murder of the Ghoulified Durst parents, set to look at the room with large statue. The massive amount of skeletal remains frightened Chiaroscuro, who focused mostly on the wall to the one end of the room, noting the color didn't match the rest of the earthen stonework surrounding it. Before investigating it, Alexir informed the rest that the statue was of the Dread Lord Strahd himself, Master of the Land that they walked currently. Chiaro approached the wall, finding it to be a secret way, leading to a stairwell up towards a ladder, where upon a trap door was built into the ceiling, blocked from this side and easily opened. Chiaro went up and was astonished by a large snarling wolf, staring at his face, only to relax slightly as he realized it was stuffed. He hadn't been in this room prior, but he remembered the others speak of the den, and figured that he was on the ground floor, and he confirmed through window sight and also stepping out of the room to see the entrance to the hall. Trying for the door now that the Durst parents were dead, it was unfortunately still locked, and he had to return to the party to announce the only way out was further down.

The group took a brief swing around to look at the last few rooms they hadn't approached before heading further into the Cultist's lair, especially seeing how the chanting got louder each time they got closer to the stairs down. Reading the names upon the stone slabs, they came upon Gustav, Elizabeth, Rosavalda, and Thornboldt Durst's tombs. Kenshi opened Elizabeth's after several failed attempts from Nick and Cash to open a tomb, and upon sliding the stone off her coffin, took a step back as a Swarm of Centipedes scuttled out of the coffin and attacked. The Swarm suffered a loss, but not before severely damaging Kenshi and nearly downing Alexir, who had taken a Critical bite before the Swarm had a chance to be felled. Getting him back up with one of the four health potions in the footlocker from the Ghoulified Durst's bedchambers, the party decided to take a brief rest before heading down to the final layer of the House's Basement.

As they reached the final floor, they could all now hear the words of the chanting that had been an incessant hum throughout the dungeon prior, now a dizzying and electric chorus. "He is the Ancient. He is the Land." Surrounding them was a menagerie of macabre little artifacts, all confusing and the group speculated about them for a brief moment, wondering if the portcullis that they saw down the way in the thick, murky water was opened by some sort of mechanism there. The group saw elsewhere, however, down the hall to the other side of the portcullis, the jail cells that they cult used for prisoners, one still chained, robes tattered and body a desiccated skeleton, picked clean. Chiaro noted a secret door in the wall just across from the skeleton, and opened it to a massive Antechamber, a walkway surrounding the waterlogged room as a massive Dais and Altar rose from the center. To one side, a crumbling portion of the wall showed nothing at first but a pile of refuse, but as soon as the group entered the room, the chanting came to a sudden and deafening halt.

The group investigated the pile of trash to the one side, coming to realize that it was actually undulating slowly, rhythmically. As they came to realize it was alive, Kenshi took a step atop the Dais, jumping the water so as to not get wet. As soon as he landed, the cult's voice erupted once more, dozens upon dozens of spectral red figures standing around the dais, chanting a new, more perverse tune. "One must die. One must Die. One Must Die. ONE MUST DIE!" The party dismissed the idea, and upon this refusal, the massive beast beneath the trash pile awoke from his hundreds year long slumber.

The party had little issue with the writhing Shambling Mound, felling it quickly despite some problem with the water. However, the real trouble began as the House's demand for sacrifice was not met, and so they needed to escape, NOW.

Rushing up through the room with Strahd's massive Statue, the party came unto a very different scene as they climbed the ladder to the den. The fireplace had filled with smoke, hiding within it the taxidermized wolves that had begun to snarl and growl. Nick helped the party Sneak through, with Cash's Bardly Inspiration, undeterred, and the party made way for the Grand Hall, then Entrance. As they entered the Foyer, the came to their astonishment that the door had been bricked shut! The door behind them started to swing close but Nick once again helped everyone through the door before it closed on them for good. Heading through to the Dining Hall, they found a gored and bleeding man, screaming as he was bound to the table, the next meal for the skulking cultists who were crying out for food. Kenshi with deft precision cut through his jugular, also severing his vocal cords, giving the man a merciful death as was his Way. The man's spirit, following this, offered assistance with a challenge they faced coming after that, and the group attempted to figure out the next step to getting out through the windows as they were bricked up, but wasted far too much time, and had to forge onwards and upwards, the only way out is off the Balconies on the third floor.

Heading up the stairs, the party was affronted by the armor that had decorated the hall on the second floor, a miniature Phalanx with the four suits coming down to barrel them over. Nick, once again with Cash's Bardly Inspiration, leapt and swung from one balustrade to the other on this spiraling staircase, skipping the suits of armor entirely as they forced their way forward. As they reached the Third Floor, however, the Bathroom door had begun to buckle and break as a deluge of raw sewage water came rushing out and for the party on the stairs. Nick and the rest leapt once again onto the railing to keep themselves being swept away from the torrential force, the water hitting the Phalanx below them. Seems it wasn't the perfect defense after all.

Heading into the Master Bedroom, the party was stopped by spectral images of the Durst parents, Elizabeth furiously screaming at Gustav as she demanded to know why he would do this to her, to their family, to their legacy. Past her, the party could see their one chance at escape, the doorway blocked with spinning, scythe like blades that rotated inward. With every barb she threw at him, the party could see the blades spinning faster and faster. The party tried to deceive their way through, making her leave and cause the blades to stop, but she saw through their ruse and now the way was blocked, the blades would have torn the lot of them to ribbons had they ventured forth.

They had one final chance, however, the secondary balcony was in the nursemaid's room, and as they entered, a grisly site was shown. The nursemaid was being tended to by several other midwives as she attempted to deliver her baby, who was coming in breach. Much like the last room, the door out was blocked by spinning scythes, them turning in time to the nursemaid's excruciating contractions. Kenshi rolled up his sleeves, the mortician making the decision to bring a life into this world rather than see it snuffed out, and was able to assist with the birth, Walter screaming happily as the blades at the door stop, allowing the party through.

The House would not let them leave so easily, however, having one last plan up its proverbial sleeve, as the party stepping out on the balcony looked down to see a massive, thousand foot cliff. There's no way on earth they could survive a fall from that height. Alexir called out to Tyr, his deity, and with the help of the Evenhanded God, could see past the illusion that it was no massive drop, but the normal height of the building. With a bit of rope, the party climbed out of the balcony, and onto the street. Turning behind them as a large crack rang out in the night, they watched as the House, that had all of the afternoon and evening attempted at every turn to kill them, fell inward upon itself like a stacked house of cards. The Death House had been defeated.

[portlandwithyou]

DnD Dungeon (Dungeons & Dragons: HAT) cause the brainrot is real

No surprises on your request! Here's a bit from the middle of what I've written:

The cave narrowed as they continued deeper and deeper. The ceiling was low enough that any one of them could reach up and brush it with their fingertips. 

Simon stole a glance backward, but the entrance was so distant it was now nothing more than a speck of light in the darkness. When he looked back at his party, he could only see their immediate surroundings illuminated by Holga’s torch. Everything else was pure black. 

“I think I see something,” Doric’s voice was hardly a whisper, but it bounced off the rock and came back several times louder.

"What is it?" Simon asked.

"I think it's a gate," In the faint light, she could see a portcullis blocking their way. 

“We’re stuck,” Holga took long strides, reaching the block first. She cast her torch over it, “Enchanted steel,” she said. She tried to reach her hand through a space just bigger than her fist. “Ugh,” she cried, pulling her hand back, “cursed steel.” 

“What do we do now?” Simon asked, panic edging into his voice. 

Ed moved around to touch the steel himself. As his fingertip skimmed the surface, a shooting, stinging, electrical pain ran up his arm, “WHAT THE??” He shouted. 

Holga jumped into action, wrenching his arm away from the curse. 

Simon was yelling, “Oh no, oh no, why did you do that!” He scrambled for the tiny healing kit he kept in his bag. His fingers shook as he pulled out a tube of thick white cream a cleric had gifted them for their services a few weeks before. Working off the cap, he grabbed Ed’s hand and squeezed some onto the red blister forming on his skin. 

“Do you need some?” He offered Holga. She stood over him, a worried look on her face. 

“No,” she shook her head, “I’m fine. I didn’t touch it directly.” He held up her own arm, free of irritation or new marks. 

“Okay,” Simon felt his heart come under control, “no more touching the steel. He looked over his shoulder and caught Doric, “Ohhhh,” he groaned, “don’t you touch it either.”

Doric was looking at the portcullis, her face screwed up so close Simon was terrified her nose might touch the curse. “I’m not going to touch it,” she said, “I think there’s something on the other side.” She pointed into the dark just beyond. 

Struggling to his feet, Ed went to go look, careful not to get anywhere near the thing that stung him like a thousand lightning bolts. 

A few feet beyond the gate was a long, thin brass lever protruding from the ground. It sat close to the wall, almost completely shrouded from view by the vines and moss that clung to every inch of the cave walls. 

[lahilden]

Peckforton Castle

Peckforton Castle is located in Cheshire, England. The country house was built from 1842-1851 for John Tollemache, who wanted a medieval-style castle. The 2nd Baron Tollemache modified the castle in the last decade of the 19th century, adding electricity. In 1939, as WWII began, the castle was abandoned and passed to a secondary line who died with no heirs in 1955. The castle was used for shooting movies over the next few decades. In 1988, American, Evelyn Graybill purchased the castle and renovated and converted it into a hotel. The Naylor family purchased the castle in 2006. The castle once sat on 36,000 acres, but the property currently consists of 4,000 acres of forest. The 48-bedroom castle has a bell tower, an octagonal library tower, an octagonal dining room, two restaurants, a spa, and a private chapel. The property has the original gatehouse, a wrought-iron portcullis above the carriageway, a stable, and a dry moat. The castle boasts towers five stories high, with the rest of the castle three stories. It is considered one of the last well-built castles in England built in the medieval style. Peckforton Castle is a four-star hotel and a venue for weddings and corporate events. 

[sp00kworm]

Kinetic Siphon

Ollmoch

Demon x Reader

~~~

~~~

A whole week free from work. You smiled as you gazed up at the old battlements of the castle. It was built during the Orc revolt and held many of the old designs of the time. Reinforced stone and steel hidden within the heavy stone bricks. Mortar had been used in recent years to try and keep the original structure together and preserve the natural history of the land. The revolt was a trying time, that resulted in many deaths on both sides. It was firmly engrained in history, but now the Orcs had come to be far more beneficial allies. Modern medicines for bacterial infections were based on many old Orcish root remedies where they’d worked to isolate the key components. Now the world was a much more accepting place. You looked at the old stone as you stepped through the portcullis. There was no longer a drawbridge, but rather a new heavy stone bridge, but the old metal gates were still in place, restored and painted to protect it against the elements. Still, it looked like something you saw in fairy tales. Gazing up at the stone, you tried to keep your mouth shut as you entered through the battlements and gazed at the inner building. It was made from the same stone with several French influences for the pointed tower tops around a central cuboidal shaped tower. The old windows were still intact from the modern occupation and you looked on in awe at the giant structure.

 A winding staircase led you up to the castle doors and you waited in the small line before being allowed in to see the beautiful rooms, decorated to resemble the time period and filled with relics from many years gone by. The hunting room was grand, around a large, old desk, used by the head of the family for many years. It was sad to see blank spots where the barbaric practice of hunting other races had once decorated the room. You looked at the information board. Once an Orcish clan leader’s head had sat on one wall and various Fae and Goblins alongside them. Magic, species and race were all greatly misunderstood back then. You offered a solemn look to the missing heads and hoped they had been returned to their families, where they rightfully belonged. Still, the dragon teeth on the desk apparently didn’t count as the same thing. You left the hunting room and continued towards the dining room, then through to the drawing room, where guests were hosted. It was full of overstuffed chairs and fainting couches. You marvelled at the tapestries on one wall and the depictions of a battle with the Orcs. It was history, however sad it was. The castle was large, and you spent a few hours looking at the information and the history inside before you took to wandering the enormous, well looked after gardens.

The stairs out the back of the main castle lead into a well-designed garden, full of the area’s flora and flowers from abroad, of which were not common. The greenhouse was the far side of the castle, and you wrapped your scarf tighter as you headed towards it. It was particularly windy as you headed towards the large greenhouse. The signposts pointed towards the battlements and the internal corridors that ran beneath them. You looked at the wall and frowned at the sign. It pointed into an unusual door. It was heavy and wooden with a thick metal latch. You opened the handle and peered inside. It was lit up well with new electrical lighting, and you shrugged, entering the hallway before making sure to close the old door firmly behind you. The hallway lights dimmed and flickered as you stepped inside fully, and you scowled up at the ceiling as they started to blink, the bulbs making a soft ticking noise as they snapped on and off. After a minute, the blinking stopped, and you continued down the corridor.

“I’m pretty sure this is the wrong way.” You hummed to yourself as you followed the long pathway to the end. A set of stairs sat before you, “This is definitely not where the greenhouse is.” But still, there was no key card access and no locks. Curiosity got the better of you and you walked down the stairs, spiralling lower into another dim room, closing another heavy oaken door behind you as you entered.

 The room was huge and filled to the brim with works that were in the process of being restored for the castle. Vanities and huge dressers were positioned in places of high airflow and covered with sheets and wraps. It was amazing to see even suits of rusted armour placed around the room, their hinges and metal plating underway to being shiny and brilliant once more. You tried not to gape at the room of antiques as you moved past the furniture and into the carefully lined up and ticketed pieces of history. There was a statue of a female goddess, her sword raised to the sky, and you smiled as you squeezed between it and the wall in your attempts to really gaze at the riches of the rest of the collection. The vast expanse of antiques was arranged around a great rack of catalogued swords. You eased your way towards them and avoided knocking over giant vases as you weaselled towards the more interesting antiques. It was glorious. Long swords, sabres and broadswords were positioned with knives and daggers, some handles made to be in matching sets to the swords. You looked at a small tomahawk before you looked at the end of the rack and to a cloth wrapped scabbard that was discarded on the floor.

 The cloth wrapping was rotten and musty. You carefully picked up the scabbard and eyed the jewelled hilt with a sceptical eye. The ruby set in the end was dull. You wiped the jewel with your coat and coughed at the dust as you unwrapped the sword. It was intricately patterned, a form of tanned black leather pressed with runes and swirling lines. You ran your fingers over the pattern and unclipped the wrap from around the hilt, gazing at the tarnished metal before you sucked in a breath and slid the great sword free from its scabbard. There was nothing. You gazed at the blade and huffed a bit under the weight, but held it out from your body, looking down the length before you turned it flat. It was then that a great rumble sounded, shaking the ground beneath your feet. The shaking started in the walls before soon the whole room was moving back and forth. Vases and pottery clinked and shuddered in place as you grabbed for the sword rack and peered up. A great, high pitched whining noise made you flinch as something tore open a hole above your head. You gazed up as a black slit opened in the space above you and two clawed hands pierced the space. The red hands wriggled before clutching either side of the hole and clicking. The space opened wider and you watched two arms slide through before you were faced with the face of a monster.

 There, staring at you from the space, slowly sliding free of the hole, was a creature with six, rolling viper eyes. The golden orbs investigated your face as a jaw opened along its cheeks, just beneath its slitted nose. Great pointed teeth dripped with saliva as it unhinged its jaw and stretched its arms further. The great horns caressed the sides of the hole before it twisted it’s neck and slid free. Three pairs of horns curled from its head, the front most pair, and the tallest, forms a chitinous plate over its nose, framing its sideways blinking eyes. With a growl, it tore the hole wider with another click and tear of his claws and placed its giant talons on the floor, sliding the rest of its body free in a smooth ripple of muscle down its back and legs. It perched itself on the floor for a moment, looking around, chitinous back plates facing any danger as a pointed tail swung left and right. The beast was covered in more spines and spikes, hardened and sharp to the touch. Your gaze peered downwards, and you tried to hide the fact you had gazed at his crotch, where he was hidden with a simple covering of hanging cloth. The face looked at you again, eyes open wide before a tongue dipped out to lick at your face, tasting the skin before he flicked it, tasting the air, mouth and nose open wide. The monster stood to his full height and you gazed at his back where the plates formed a neat, intricate row down his spine. He curled his feet and you looked at him as he curled the talons into the stone. Two great plates curled over his shoulders and you swallowed at the sight of more great spikes lining them.

 “For what have I been summoned?” His voice was like thunder, vibrating the very air around you with power as he stretched his body and turned, his tail snatching you from the ground, dragging you closer to his six eyes. They moved independently for a moment before they all fixed on your terrified face, the lids sliding over them in pairs, down his face in turn.

“I…” He leaned closer to your face, his hands gripping you as he crouched near to the floor, his eight-foot frame ducking down, “I didn’t mean to summon you.” You confessed quietly, but the demon heard you, his pointed ears flicking. You watched the bone that pierced through them shake as he drew back and laughed, his tongue out and teeth exposed.

“Such jokes with your family.” He gripped you tighter, “Come now, I have no patience for your games anymore. Your ancestors may have bound me, but I could still tear you open and die with you.” He threatened, looming over you with unblinking eyes, his hands constraining your waist tight making you wheeze softly, “It would only take a moment.” He purred in delight, “Now, tell me your desires, little one.” His talons grazed your hair, “I grow bored.”

 You took another breath and dropped the sword, gazing up at the creature with tears in your eyes, “I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what you’re talking about but please, please let me go.”

The demon scowled, as well as he could with no real eyebrows and only plates covering his brow bone. He licked at you again and hummed, “I cannot taste a lie…” He mused as he stood up, his horns scrapping the ceiling before he properly situated himself, “Then…” Confusion clouded his face, “Where am I, human?” He asked as he crouched down with you in his grasp, “Why have the possessions been discarded here?”

“I… It’s the two thousands. This castle is owned by the last remaining members of the Hollack family but its open to the public.” You dared to look at his eyes, “When were you last, um, summoned?”

The demon tilted his head and licked at his lips, “Sixteen fifty-four.” He nodded and then took note of your clothes, “It…has been so long?” He questioned the air as he placed you on his plated thigh, “You are not of the Hollack family, are you?”

“No…I got lost. I’m visiting and I ended up here. I guess…I bit off a little more than I could chew?” You offered lamely as the demon anchored himself up with his tail, you perched on his leg as he idly set his claws over your legs, trapping you in place.

 The demon threw his head back and gave another round of thunderous laughter as his eyes blinked and closed in their downwards pattern, “Perhaps you have.” He confirmed before stretching up to his giant height. Carefully, he placed you back down on your feet and peered up at the cold rift.

“Where…where do you come from?” You asked quietly as you listened to the silence.

The demon ducked his red head and let out a rumble, “A pocket dimension…It is my cage, so to speak. I sleep until I am summoned…I feed only when I’m allowed out.” He offered quietly before his sharp teeth snapped together, “It has been so long. Even speaking is making me tired and ravenous.”

“You just sleep?” You offered before awkwardly shuffling, “Can you not break the contract?” You asked, feeling silly in the face of a creature so old.

He laughed again and you watched his tongue roll against his teeth before he reached to his chest and pressed one taloned hand against the skin. The red skin parted and revealed a great glowing eye. The golden eye blinked awake and starred deep into your own eyes before it began to glow. The demon snapped his fingers and wiped his hand over his chest again and the eye disappeared.

You suddenly felt tired, “What was that?”

“That was my power. It is weak. I consume energy, change it, or siphon it. My ability to control it is now tied to that…relic.” He hissed as you took hold of the sword again and peered at the metal.

 The length of the blade glowed with burning gold runes. It was a sight and the demon hissed at the word written down the length. You couldn’t read the runes and you frowned up at the demon.

“What are those?” You asked, “I can’t read them…”

The demon’s mouth unhinged in a maniacal smile, teasing you, “My name, written in the ancient mage tongue.” He hissed through his teeth again as he looked down at it, “The language is lost, little one.” He lamented, “No one has been able to read it since the dark ages.” He offered as he sat down on the floor and clicked his fingers again, the portal closing with a swirl and a great pop.

“If I could read it, what would that do?” You asked as you took the scabbard in hand and stood by his knee, “Would it release you?”

The demon laughed again, “It would transfer my contract to you. My bindings would be shifted from the Hollack family to you, but I have never met someone capable of bearing my burden. I am old, it would take a great deal of power to break such a curse.” He grazed his talons over the stone in a great raking motion, “I am... ravenous.” He purred before you, his golden eyes squinted with glee at his mischief.

“You need a lot of energy then?” You asked.

“Mmm.” He purred, “I used to rip open rifts and portals and consume leaks of energy within the continuum, but that was how I was trapped. They created such a great energy rift that I was attracted, such was the greed of my youth, and trapped with that cursed thing.” The demon stretched his plates again and snapped his fingers out, snatching the blade from your grasp, “If I could tear apart the very molecules of this sword and be free, I would.” He snarled in anger.

 You reached towards his hands and held out your hand for the blade, “Where would your name be?” You asked, “Is the blade named after you?” You asked and he held the hilt out towards you.

He scowled, “I do not remember…” But his eyes widened as you rushed back towards the door with the sword in tow. With a howl he was after you, disappearing before he reappeared in front of the door to the way out. His talons snatched you from the floor again as he opened his mouth threateningly, “You will not have that sword!” He hissed.

“I…” You wheezed, “The catalogue book.” You pointed and wheezed again.

The demon looked at the desk behind him and plucked the big logbook from the table.

Suddenly, he was very sheepish, his ears back and his lips pouted as he sat down with a thump again and placed you on his lap. He handed you the book, “Ah, yes. I apologise, little one.” His shoulders twitched as you smiled up at him, rubbing your ribs as you opened the cover and peered at the numbers. Everything was catalogued by value and item description with a numerical identity code attached to the item type name. Sword. You looked for the code, SW and flicked through the book quickly to the section. There wasn’t that many, most of them on the rack behind you and the demon. You tried not to scare as the demon wrapped his tail over you, his eyes peering at the pages as you ran your finger down them.

 “Here. Look.” You held the book to his face, “There’s only three with names attached, all of them have been translated too.” With a cheer you watched him hold the book in his hands.

He frowned at the words, “I do not remember.” He lamented as defeat flashed over his features. The demon gave you the book back, “Perhaps if you read them?” Lamely he turned his hand and with a scared nod you climbed from his lap and watched him dip to his knees and stretch his back straight, so his horns sat like a crown.

“Do I need to do anything?” You asked meekly.

The demon nodded and placed one of your hands against his head, right on the hot skin between his curved, three pairs of horns, “We must be bound for this to work.”

“Wait…I can’t be a vessel for you!” You flinched away but the demon held your hand firm.

Golden eyes looked at you with sadness, “Please.” He whispered before growling, “I have spent seven centuries in agony!” He caught himself before his fury could truly boil over, “You don’t have to see me again…I will disappear and feed and never bother you, so, please, just release me.” His other hand clutched your own on top of his head, “I do not beg mortals lightly, little one, but please help me.”

“How do I know you won’t kill me after this?” You whispered back.

“I will be bound to your soul. It would be impossible.” He placed a hand over his chest, “If I did, I too would suffer the same death.”

 You took a deep breath and looked at the three names before you in the book. You curled your fingers against the chitinous base of his horns and spoke.

“Maelstrom.”

The air was silent, and the demon continued to breathe quietly underneath your hand, radiating heat and anxiety as he clenched his chest and waited. After a moment you continued down the list.

“Azar.”

Silence again. You looked at the stones, expecting a rumble from them, but they remained still. You took a final breath and looked at the final name. It was old, and you didn’t understand the meaning as you whispered the name and then repeated it into the open air.

“Ollmoch.”

With bated breath, you waited. Like a crack of thunder, you heard the demon’s claws slam into the floor as the sword next to you vibrated violently. With an echo of metal, it slid free of the scabbard again and burned gold with power, the runes searing from the metal as the demon gave a grunt and slammed at the floor again, his teeth exposed in a pained snarl. His chest heaved as the great golden eye opened between his pectorals. The viper pupil burned with light as it bled from black to a bright red. The light grew brighter and brighter, until you were forced to close your eyes. There was a violent flash behind your eyelids before you felt your hand fall from the demon’s head.

 “Little one.” You heard him whisper next to you, “You can open your eyes.” A hand brushed your cheek and with a gasp you opened your eyes to gaze into his golden irises. They burned with pulsing red veins and you looked at his skin as it gave off wave after wave of burning heat.

“What happened?” You asked him, “Wait, you’re called Ollmoch?” You felt the floor swim in your vision as you looked down, and you gagged as your swung back and forth on your own feet. Ollmoch was quick to catch you in his giant hands, holding you before he tucked you carefully in one of his arms, holding you gently.

“Quiet now, little one. You are exhausted.” Ollmoch rumbled to you as his fingers snapped and his tail swung behind him. The ceiling swam and you closed your eyes to try and get rid of the feeling of nausea, panting heavily as you felt the blood rush around you. There was a crackle of energy around you, and your hair stood on end as you planted your face against Ollmoch’s pectoral, your eyes rolling open and closed before you passed out completely to the delighted howl of the demon as he leaped for the portal swirling overhead.

 Sunlight burned your eyelids as you slowly felt feeling return to your fingers and back. With a small gasp, you bolted upright in bed and clutched at the sheets as you rubbed your tired eyes and looked around the room blearily. It was still daylight. You looked closer and did a double take. It was morning. The sunlight peaked over the horizon weakly, bathing your room in a barely-there warm glow. It was early but the winter mornings had been getting darker and darker recently. You slapped at your table for your phone before realising you were still in your jeans and you reached into the pocket to take out your phone and gaze at the time.  It was barely eight o’clock and you sighed as you tried to remember how you had gotten home. It was then, as you yawned, that a hand slid under your covers. With a squeal, you jumped away and watched as horns rose over the side of your bed and a great, red skinned demon hauled himself out of a chugging, black portal in your carpet. Six golden eyes appeared next as the demon’s hands curled into your sheets, tugging them away from you as he rose up and stood over your bed.

 “Are you well, little one?” Ollmoch rumbled as he curled his talons into the cotton and carefully eased his hands up towards your legs.

“What happened?” You asked as you crossed your legs under you, looking up at the half nude demon as he dragged his hands back and caressed his own horns, stretching with a hum.

Ollmoch tapped the middle of your forehead, “Your brain gave in. I believe you fainted.” He offered before he opened his mouth and sniffed, pulling air into his mouth, over his tongue and into his nose, “You were drained. It is good energy has returned to you.” He raised his hand and licked at his palm which had grazed your skin, “You are very lively. Full of energy. Untapped potential.” The energy demon smacked his lips before he licked at his fingers again and hummed, “Not enough to truly command me.”

“Why would I want that?” You asked with a scowl, “You wanted to be free, so you can do that now, right?”

Ollmoch nodded his great head as he hissed and touched his chest, “Yes. It is a good thing because I am starving.” He offered before he raised your hand to his face, licking the back of it before he kissed the palm softly, “Thank you, mortal.” He blew a hot breath over the skin, “I am in your debt, and I am at your call, as is the rules of such a bargain.”

 Your mouth went dry before you carefully scratched between his horns. Ollmoch’s bone jewellery jingled and clinked as he accepted the touch before he pulled away and tucked your hand back against your side. His chest eye opened with a growl and you watched as your wall distorted. A sharp click snapped open a hole which the demon stretched with another movement of his hands. Ollmoch gazed into the abyss before he held up one talon.

“If you need me…Say my name, little one. I will be here.” He promised gently before grinning his sharp, shark-like teeth. You smiled back at him.

“Good luck, Ollmoch.” You offered as your cheeks felt hot, “I hope you fair better than in that pocket dimension.” Lamely, you let your hands fall to your side. Ollmoch looked at you, one pair of golden eyes focused on your face. Sadness.

He flicked his tongue and tasted the emotion on the air before he grabbed at your hand again, pressing it to the hot skin beneath the bright, burning eye in his chest, “I will come back, little one. I must feed, but I will be here.” He promised as he grazed his talons over the back of your neck, “What you feel, I will feel.” He whispered as he scratched the back of your neck and flinched himself, “We are linked. Nothing can take my binding from your very soul.” Ollmoch grinned as his talons gazed their way over your face, “Call, little one. Call and I will come.” He promised before he melted back into the wall, his talons and plating disappearing into the void of the in-between.

Your cheeks burned as you flopped back against the bed, looking at the ceiling as you felt the ghostly touches of talons over your skin.  

[ange-de-la-musique]

Photoset of my favorite performance photos (yeah, yeah, some of them are staged and they’re mostly of Christine but shhh).

1. Sarah Brightman, Think of Me, West End, 1986. 

2. Joke de Kruijf, Think of Me, Vienna, 1993.

3. Sae Yamamoto, Think of Me, Nagoya, 2010.

4. Lina Mendes, after the performance, Sao Paulo revival, 2019.

5. Holly-Anne Hull, after the performance, UK Tour revival, 2020.

6. Clara Verdier and Jonathan Roxmouth, Music of the Night (staged), World Tour, 2020.

7. Kim So Hyun, Angel of Music, Seoul, 2009.

8. Tamara Kotova and Ivan Ozhogin, the Mirror, Moscow, 2014.

9. John Cudia and Jennifer Hope Wills, through the mirror, US Tour, 2006.

10. Peter Karrie, the Mausoleum, Canadian Tour, 1997.

11. Sierra Boggess, "Through music, my soul began to soar!”, Las Vegas, 2006.

12. Sylvia Rhyne and John Ruess, All I Ask of You (staged), Canadian Tour, 1995.

13. Masquerade (staged), Sao Paulo revival, 2019.

14. Jeremy Hays, electric/magnetic portcullis, Broadway, 2015.

15. Giulia Nadruz, Point of No Return, Sao Paulo revival, 2019.

16. Maree Johnson, Point of No Return, Australian Tour, 1994.

17. Jun Sawaki, Final Lair, Tokyo, 1992.

18. Elizabeth Loyacano, "Tears of Hate!”, Las Vegas, 2006. 

19. Sae Yamamoto, "I gave my mind blindly,” Nagoya, 2010.

20. Sarah Brightman, Final Lair (dress rehearsal), West End, 1986.

21. Anthony Crivello, staged, Las Vegas, 2006.

[glassprism]

I've always wondered what would happen if accidents or fails happened on shows and I searched up some phantom fails and your videos came up. The Gary and Elizabeth flub was particularly hard to watch, I giggled (especially when Gary had to hide his face and his laughter was heard) but also experienced a serious case of second hand embarrassment 😆 but I cant seem to stop watching them. The japanese one was horrible too, and I felt so bad for the actors. Do you have any more flubs to share?

I think I’ve shared a lot more flubs apart from the ones on YouTube (those are just major ones captured on video that nobody else has uploaded), but never on a big list. There’s also a few that aren’t mine and a couple that are recent, so here’s a listing:

‘Magical Lasso’ flub - a very famous one where Buquet fails to come out for this scene, so Meg takes over the role

“Electric portcullis!” - one I’d read about but had never seen (and even missed on this video): the lasso does not work, so Raoul slams himself into the gate and pretends to be trapped there (note, video is very dark so it’s easy to miss)

Elissa dress flub - another I’d read about, where Christine’s dress in ‘Think of Me’ begins to fall; she just holds onto it through the scene

Unmasking mess-up - Christine pulls off the Phantom’s hood at the end of PONR, only to pull off his mask as well (too early, Christine!); he just picks it up and they carry on as normal, with her unmasking him again

Missing throne - check out the last gif, where the throne does not emerge in the ‘Final Lair’, leaving the Phantom with nowhere to sit and gloat (he just wanders about until he needs to pull out the lasso)

Flubs on audio - my very old, full of out-dated info blooper video featuring several flubs captured on audios but not video, from tiny line mess-ups to the show actually stopping

Singing mess-ups - another old list of actors messing up their singing, whether wobbling, cracking, or missing the note entirely

Pre-recording failing - just one version where the pre-recording of the title song does not work (there are others, here’s one of the pre-recording not playing at all, resulting in the actors singing it live but it being very quiet because their mics are not on for this scene)

Warring ducks - A most famous blooper, in which Peter Karrie forgets his lines for ‘Seal My Fate’ (which he insisted on singing live) and comes up with... something (for which he received a plaque with these words)

[medleymisty]

Some Assembly Required

Is a silly little text-only story. :) I hope you like it! I do.

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

Dr. Morrigan was a mad scientist. Everyone knew that.

His castle sat atop a hill overlooking the village. Tattered pink banners fluttered from gray turrets topped by crumbling crenellations. The drawbridge hadn’t been drawn up in centuries. Its chains hung loose, rusty and rotted. The two portcullises still worked, grudgingly. Dr. Morrigan’s assistant tested them weekly. It wouldn’t do to not have some sort of defense against mobs armed with torches and pitchforks, even if such mobs were unlikely. The villagers had gotten so used to the mad laughter and the crackling bzzzts of electricity and the tortured screaming that they didn’t even hear them anymore. The castle and its occupants had become part of the backdrop of everyday life.

Gunky GilsCarbo pulled on the chains to open the outer portcullis and wished he could be like the villagers. They were free. They were happy. They didn’t have to constantly bust their asses for a crazy dude who didn’t even remember to pay them half the time. The villagers even got to go out on dates, which was totally unfair.

He was in the midst of a dry spell. A dry spell that had lasted for years. It wasn’t that he was ugly, or anything. He wasn’t an Igor, with stitches everywhere and a hump on his back and one eye bigger than the other. It was just that he didn’t have time, and also living in the bowels of a dark dank princess playset really was not good for his complexion. Plus he kind of smelled like mold and electrified dead things.

Gunky checked the list Dr. Morrigan had given him. Electrodes, dry ice, tongue of newt, eye of a hot babe, a brain, and a pound of sugar. Easy peasy. He pulled his scooter out of the little storage shed by the end of the drawbridge and set off down the hill.

The Giant Wonder Box Store For All Your Mad Scientist And Evil Wizard Needs sat uneasily on the outskirts of the village. The huge neon sign buzzed fitfully, the red-lit letters blinking on and off. Weeds sprung up from the cracks in the empty parking lot. Gunky parked his scooter by the entrance and watched as a leaf skittered across the pavement.

He wasn’t sure how this place stayed in business. A small one mad scientist village couldn’t support a huge store like this. He’d never seen any other customers inside. But then, it was a magic store. Maybe the owners created fairy gold to pay off loans and rent and suppliers and stuff, or maybe they were vampires with centuries of investments and this was just a hobby, or maybe they had lots of customers but the customers were all invisible, or maybe something ate all the customers after they made their purchases. He wondered why he’d never been eaten.

He stepped through the glass door. The little bell attached to it jingled.

“Ah, Mr. GilsCarbo, we were told to expect you! Please, what does Dr. Morrigan require from us today?”

A gnome stood on a stool behind the cash register in lane 13. The lanes stretched down the front of the store, on and on and on. Gunky wasn’t sure how many there were. The others were covered with a layer of dust, their signs dark, their displays dead. Only lane 13 was alive, the register’s screen flickering with ads for love potions and death tokens and the Frankenator 9000 Plus, guaranteed to bring your monster to life within three thunderstorms or your money back.

“Uh, the list says electrodes, dry ice, tongue of newt, eye of a hot babe, a brain, and a pound of sugar.”

“My, what a list. I wonder what the old man is up to now! Well come on, don’t just stand around. Time is money, friend!”

The gnome jumped off the stool and headed into the dark recesses of the store. Gunky pulled a cart from the huddled cart masses by the entrance and followed him.

Dust was everywhere. It coated the lab coats, the chainsaws, the cathode ray tubes, the castle defense training games. The right front wheel of the cart squeaked. It was the only sound in the store.

Gunky fell into a daydream involving the eye of a hot babe, a pound of sugar, and the removal of his pants. It was just getting to the good part when the gnome screamed.

“Geez, watch where you’re going with that thing!”

“Oh man, I’m sorry. It’s just, it’s hard to see in here, you know? You guys ever thought about buying brighter light bulbs?”

The gnome stared up at him. Gunky was of the opinion that the gnome’s gaze lingered far too long on his pants.

“Yes, well, here we are, the electrodes Dr. Morrigan requested.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Gunky reached over the cart and the gnome and picked up the package of electrodes. He really wished the gnome would stop looking at him like that.

He dropped the electrodes into the cart. The metal clanged a bit, and as the echo died away he realized how silent it was in the store. Silent, and empty.

“I believe dry ice was on the list?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s in the theatrics department. This way!”

The gnome strode out of the aisle, dust rising up behind him. Gunky followed, determined to stay alert and not hit the little guy with the cart again, no matter how attractive the eye of a hot babe was. No eye of a hot babe could ever be attractive enough to cancel out the creepiness of an eye of a recently struck with a shopping cart gnome.

They passed by plastic tombstones, long black capes, large beehive wigs of black hair with one white stripe, green makeup, giant red buttons and levers, toy sharks with toy laser beams on their heads. All covered with dust. It didn’t look like anyone had been in these aisles in decades.

“Ah yes, here we go. I don’t know why it’s in this section. Yes, it can make pretty smoke, but if I know Dr. Morrigan he needs it to keep body parts frozen. Am I right?”

Gunky pictured Dr. Morrigan’s lab. The test tubes. The vats. The iron gurneys with leather straps. That one weird thing that he’d never been able to figure out, but it had all spikes and a furry bit. Oh, and the boy band posters.

“Yes. Body parts. He’s putting something together. Or I guess someone.”

“Oh ho. Do ask him to mind that this someone does not get loose in the village. I don’t want any mobs torching the store. Come on, let’s go get the poor thing’s tongue.”

The gnome dropped the dry ice in the cart. Again, there was the one lonely thump, and then silence. The silence was really getting on Gunky’s nerves.

“So why don’t you guys pipe some music in here? You know, some evil tunes or something to help shoppers get in the mood.”

The gnome stared at him again. He wondered if maybe he could substitute the eye of a creepy gnome for the eye of a hot babe.

“Come, this way to the organ section.”

As they neared the section with the body parts, Gunky noticed footprints in the dust. Someone had been this way recently. From the way the dust was scuffed up, it looked like they’d been in a hurry.

“Tongue of newt, tongue of newt, where are the newts? It’s so hard to keep fresh organs, you know. Our customers don’t want the preserved stuff. They want their organs ripe and juicy. I could have sworn we got a shipment of newts in just the other day. Oh yes, here they are.”

Gunky stopped just in time to keep the cart from slamming into the gnome. He’d been so busy looking at the odd patterns in the dust that he hadn’t noticed the aquariums and the cages.

He studied the frogs. He read the information listed below the gerbil cage and learned about beta tubulin isotypes in the gerbil organ of Corti. He thought that the salamanders were very pretty.

He didn’t notice any activity or sounds around the newts. Nope. There was nothing going on there at all. In fact, there were no newts. He focused on a stand with a roll of plastic bags, like the ones in the fruit and vegetable section at the village grocery store.

The gnome took one of the bags, dropped something that Gunky refused to see in it, and placed the bag in the cart.

“Freshest tongue of newt you can get! Tell Dr. Morrigan that he absolutely must use it within the next twenty four hours. I assume he’s prepared?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so. He’s already got most of the bits, you know. And there’s a storm coming tonight.”

“Good, good. Come on then. Next is the eye of a hot babe, I believe.”

The cages and aquariums were replaced with large jars and coolers. Gunky had been half expecting cages of live humans. He sighed in relief.

The dust was more stirred up here. Someone had been running fast, and there were other prints too.

“We just got this eye in yesterday. Dr. Morrigan is very lucky. It’s not every day that a hot babe comes in the store.”

The other prints weren’t human.

“She paid first, of course. I believe she was buying some materials to make torches. Oh, and she was also very interested in the pitchforks. We have an excellent selection of pitchforks.”

The other prints appeared to be large paws.

“Oh, but of course you’re not interested in pitchforks, are you? No, no, I imagine you would be much more interested in the flame resistant castle curtains. Well, here is your eye of a hot babe.”

The gnome dropped a small plastic box into the cart. Gunky, pumped full of adrenaline and on high alert, could hear liquid sloshing around inside it. There was another sound, out on the far edge of hearing. It sounded like something breathing.

“Let’s see. Next on the list was a brain, I believe?”

“Yep! That’s the most important part. You gotta have a good brain. The last time he tried this, he used Old Cockeye’s brain. Do you know Old Cockeye? He used to go around the village yelling about what the witches were doing to the soil and how the government was covering up a fae invasion. That didn’t work too well. We ended up having to kill that monster and use it for parts.”

Gunky babbled, hoping to sound normal, hoping to sound like someone who could just pay and leave and put the bags into the basket on his scooter and ride back home, back to the lovely princess playset castle and Dr. Morrigan. If he got out of here he would never say anything bad about Dr. Morrigan again.

The gnome walked up and down the aisle. The breathing sound got louder.

“Oh yes, of course, a good brain is very important, and we do so value Dr. Morrigan as a customer.”

The gnome looked through the coolers. The breathing came closer.

“I don’t remember when we last got a brain. We might not have one. Certainly not a fresh one. No, no. And of course it must be a human brain. Newt brain won’t work, not for this.”

The gnome looked up. Gunky could almost feel hot breath on his neck.

“Sir, do you mind paying now?”

Gunky took a second to process the meaning of that question.

“Oh hell naw!”

The gnome couldn’t have his brain! He needed his brain! He needed it to think, and be alive, and stuff!

He turned and ran, kicking up the dust. Running just as the hot babe had, following her trail. Maybe the gnome had only taken her eye. Maybe she’d gotten away, and now she was hiding in the store somewhere. Maybe it was her breathing.

“Cerebrallus! Fetch that brain!”

Or maybe not. ———————————————————-

The gnome put the electrodes, dry ice, tongue of newt, eye of hot babe, and the nice fresh brain of a mad scientist’s assistant into the scooter’s basket. He couldn’t believe his luck. He was finally getting out of that nasty store. He’d get to work for Dr. Morrigan. Dr. Morrigan, the most respected of all the mad scientists, the one working on the cutting edge of monster creation. The newt’s tongue was a really clever innovation, and he’d love to see the look on the faces of the other mad scientists at the MadFranken convention when they saw the eye of the hot babe.

And of course the brain of the assistant. He was quite proud of that. It was his own gift to Dr. Morrigan, his way of saying “I can work with you. I’m smart enough, I’m good enough, and doggone it, my monster dog is really well trained to not injure the parts I need.”

The scooter was a little big for him, but he managed. He drove off towards the castle. ———————————————————

Rain came down in sheets. The wind knocked a few more blocks off the crumbling crenellations. The castle shook with thunder.

Dr. Morrigan stood by the huge red lever, waiting. His new assistant had procured the perfect brain for his creation. Everything was ready. Just one lightning strike, and he would be the talk of the world. He would get a full feature in Monsters Makers Weekly. He would receive a grant from the Institute of Crazed Scientists. All the hot babes at the MadFranken convention would fall at his feet.

The lightning strike came. Adrenalin rushed from his kidneys as he pulled the lever. This was it!

“Rise, my monster! Rise!”

Nothing happened.

He looked at the lever, confused.

Nothing continued to happen.

He looked at his new assistant, the clever little gnome. The gnome looked back at him.

A sudden horrible thought struck him.

“Did you forget the pound of sugar?”

[monswoon]

The Trade

Their panic and grief was nauseating in volume. It pounded on the guards around Gaff’s mind like tidal waves, unrelenting in their onslaught. He coldly turned his gaze from the survivors. Focusing on the door, he pushed up the shutters around his mind and allowed only a tendril of his consciousness to stretch out through a crack. He let it drift without lingering over the ones that didn’t matter, probing for the only one that did.

She had to have made it. 

More people came through, an endless stream of bodies missing limbs and eyes and teeth. Bloodied, tattered uniforms and haunted, forgettable faces. Dia would be taking up the rear, Gaff reasoned, as the time stretched out unbearably. She’d be herding her flock home while keeping vigil, always the last out of every fray. It took all he had not to shove everyone aside and yell through the door for her to hurry it up. These ones didn’t matter, they were replaceable. It wasn’t the thought of the punishment waiting for him if she didn’t make it that made him will for her to return unharmed. 

Then he felt her, like a bright spark at the end of a lengthy fuse. She was dim, her emotions tempered as she strove for self-control, but Gaff could feel her exhaustion. He could feel the weight of the failure and the lives that had been lost dragging her down. Her self-loathing was consuming, her grasp on the last dredges of composure tenuous and fragile. As he felt her near, Gaff drifted forward, ready to receive her and take on some of that load.

She didn’t look at him as she stepped through the door. It was like she didn’t even register his presence, barking sharp directions at her lost flock as she sealed the doorway behind her. She didn’t bleed –she never bled– so he knew, rationally, all that red must be someone else’s. It still made his heart clench. 

Her shoulders sagged wearily when the last of her squad disappeared around the bend, wandering like lost souls clinging to each other for strength and comfort. Now that they could not see her she sank to the ground like her spine had given out. Gaff stared at her bowed head in muted shock. Seeing Dia as anything less than an infallible, untouchable force of nature was like seeing your father weep. 

He extended his hand, palm up. She shook her head just barely, knowing without looking what he offered. Her shoulders trembled with stifled sobs, so he reached for her anyway, bracing for the tidal wave that would come once he tore down the barriers and allowed it to. Instead he flinched back as she slapped his hand away. 

“Dia-” 

Her eyes, when she turned them on him, were fierce and furious, rimmed red with rage. He softened his voice.

“Let me take some.” 

Even as he said the words, he could tell they’d been a misstep. Her mask slammed back down like a steel portcullis, lips thinning to a severe line and eyes dark with anger. Like he’d scorned her agony rather than offered to ease it.

“Don’t touch me.” She rose slowly, like each movement pulled at unseen stitches. “I earned this.”

Gaff let the walls around his mind lower until he could glimpse what she was feeling. It was barely a peek, but it was crippling and awesome. A black electric storm that could shred sanity like paper sails. She had some strange code of honour that eluded him; he’d seen her mow down men without a care, but she had a thing for those under her watch. Those deaths were unforgivable. Those deaths were a personal failure.

[mostly-history]

California Midwinter International Exposition (1894):

Bonet Electric Tower in Golden Gate Park.

View of Golden Gate Heights past the Electric Tower, Music Concourse and Administration Building.

Flower girls with photographer, Firth Wheel and Scenic Railway.

Guard standing outside the Horticultural and Agricultural Building.

Panorama from Strawberry Hill during the day, with Stow Lake in the foreground.

Panorama from Strawberry Hill at dusk.

The Scenic Railway, an early roller coaster that was later moved to Merrie Way above the Sutro Baths.

Eastward view over the Grand Court of Honour, to the Manufactures and Liberal Arts Buiding in the distance.  Electric Tower on the left and Mechanical Arts Building on the right.

Elevated view of Heidelberg Castle, showing the main entry with portcullis.

Heidelberg and Deutsches Dorf (German Village).

[darkelfshadow]

Session Summary - 66

AKA “The Return Of An Old Friend”

Adventures in Taggeriell

Session 66  (Date: 13th July 2019)

Players Present:

- Rob (Known as “Varis”) Elf Male.

- Bob (Known as “Sir Krondor) Dwarf Male.

- Travis (Known as “Trenchant”) Human Male.

- Paul (Known as “Labarett”) Elf Male.

- Arthur (Known as “Gim”) Dwarf Male.

Absent Players

Nil

NPC

- (Known as “Naillae”) Elf Female. <Controlled by DM>

- (Known as “Nac”) Half-elf Male. <Controlled by DM>

Summary

- Oathday, 4rd Pharast in the year 815 (Second Era). Spring.

- The party begin this session, in the hours just after midnight, still in Castle Naerytar having just killed with a group of Cultists last session.

- Knowing that the sound of battle would have alerted the occupants of the castle, the party quickly spring into action. The unconscious and badly burnt body of Naillae is somewhat healed by Nac, allowing her to walk but still somewhat dizzy and confused, having nearly died.

- As the party rush over to the near by long hall, they see a large plume of glowing smoke raising into air from the front of the castle.

- Trenchant looks at the smoke and says, “I think our Lizardfolk friends are attacking the Bullywugs outside. I wonder who is winning.”

- Varis is the last to enter the long hall, as he had quickly searched the near by inner tower. As he enters he hears a loud clanking of chain and then a sharp bang of metal on stone from outside. The Ranger enters the long hall and shuts the door behind him as he hears the sound of a large number of approaching foot steps, “I think someone has closed the portcullis, we’re stuck in now.”

- “Could be worse,” replies Trenchant.

- “And I heard patrols walking around the courtyard,” added Varis.

- “It’s worse,” snapped Nac. “Get those doors locked now, we’re need time to heal up!”

- The party quickly search the bodies of the dead Cultists in the long hall and find a key, allowing them to lock both doors into the room, before the they hear the sound of a large patrol walking outside and trying the now locked doors.

- The party listen and wait for the patrol to move on before continuing to search the long hall. A large amount of coins and gems are located. Apparently the Cult was using this hall to assess, record and temporarily store the stolen treasure into plainly made labelled chests. A ledger on a table shows the Cult has accumulated a very large treasure hoard, enough to buy a small kingdom. But the hoard is not here in this room.

- The party rest up for a short time, allowing Nac to cast a Prayer Of Healing. Naillae, feeling better now, tells the party what she saw earlier. She had entered the small inner tower, finding it empty but then heard the voice of Azbara Jos outside saying, “Quickly Rezmir, the castle is breached by unknown forces. We can not afford to let our plans or your Black Dragon mask be captured. To the portal!” Naillae heard running footsteps outside and she quickly looked outside to see the Archmage Azbara running away, holding a large full sack. Next to him ran a large black Half Dragon, large black tail waving, wearing purple robes. A black great sword strapped to their back and a Black Dragon mask strapped to his belt. That must have been Rezmir The Black Wyrmspeaker of the Cult of the Dragon Queen.

- When Naillae moved out of the tower to follow them, she was struck by two fire orbs hurled at her and she was knocked to the ground unconscious and badly burnt.

- A side door is examined and within is found a sleeping Halfling cook in a small kitchen warmed by a stove. The cook wakes up when Trenchant attempts to sneak over. The cook’s name is Tharn and he is a friendly fellow. He is a slave, captured by the Cult and forced to serve them. He is happy to help the party in any way and does give them some information about the ground level of the castle.

- Varis uses he Primal Awareness to check on the many moving patrols in the castle and if there are any Bullywugs in the inner courtyard, and finding it clear, the party decide to head out. Labarett, Nac, Varis and his animal companion Shadow head out via one door, and Gim heads out via the other. Sir Krondor and Naillae wait inside the long hall.

- Gim walks outside into the inner courtyard and is surprised to see that the dozen dead bodies of the Bullywugs the party killed previously are now standing and shuffling about as Zombies.  Surprised Gim exclaims softly.

- A shaved head of a Red Wizard of Thay leans out from a lit second story window and looks at Gim, “Kill him.” The zombie Bullywugs begin to shuffle towards Gim.

- Gim sees the face and recognises it. Long ago, at the ruins known as the Old Owl Well, the party encountered a Red Wizard of Thay called Kost. Kost and his twelve zombies were digging out the ruins looking for something. At that time, the Cult had not launched their war, and the party were not aware of what the Red Wizards were up too, so they had not attacked Kost but instead spoke to him in a friendly manner.

- Gim quickly calls out, “Kost! It’s me! Remember, the Old Owl Well. We spoke and you told us where to find the Orcs Lair.”

- Kost narrows his eyes and smiles, “Oh yes. I remember. So it’s you again.” Without losing the cold smile, Kost says in a loud voice, “Kill him.” Then Kost disappears out of view, moving away from the window.

- The Bullywugs move to attack Gim. The others, Labarett, Nac, Varis and Shadow have now rounded the inner tower and arrived at the other side of the inner courtyard. The zombie Bullywugs are easy to dispatch but harder to keep down but eventually the party manage to dispatch them all, just as a patrol of twelve Bullywugs run into view, hurling spears at the party. The party turn to face this new threat and quickly dispatch the foes easily.

- The party quickly decide what to do, knowing that more patrols are searching the castle. They decide to enter one of the closed doors in the inner court yard. As the door is opened half a dozen arrows shoot outwards from the waiting Elite Cult Enforcers within, one Dragonclaw and four Dragonwings.

- This fight turns out to be more deadly than the previous ones. The Cult Enforcers attack the party without mercy and are relentless. Naillae climbs up to the second story window where Kost had been, but has to quickly jump back down to avoid being struck by an orb of electricity that flies out, smashing the window into pieces.

- The party are trying to force their way into the building, when four more Enforcers, Dragonsouls, appear. One begins hurling orbs of electricity down at the party from the second story window and one appears at the top of some inner stairs.

- The battle is proving deadly. Soon Naillae is dropped to the ground, unconscious and bleeding to death. She is soon followed by Varis and Sir Krondor, both dying on the ground. Varis’s animal companion, Shadow, is cut down and killed instantly by the Enforcers.

- Still the party pushes on, killing the Enforcers one by one. Nac is moving about, healing and reviving the downed party members and bringing them back into battle. Gim is struck by one of the orbs of electricity and is badly injured but this also charges his Bracers Of Thunder that he then uses to blast three of the Enforcers back, badly injuring them.

- Another Enforcer drops to the ground, asleep thanks to a spell from Trenchant, after he gave up trying to control them via his Crown Of Thorns spell as the fanatical Enforcers are too mentally strong to control.

- With the party very badly injured, Varis kills the last Enforcer with an arrow to their throat. The battle was won but only just, with the party nearly defeated.

- Rushing inside the building the party quickly shut and bar the door before another patrol finds them. Varis casts a spell of Healing to aid the party whilst they catch their breath from the battle. The room, apparently a chapel of Tiamat, is searched and an elaborate dagger is found hidden within a stone statue of Tiamat.

- Trenchant uses his lute to make himself Invisible via magic, and then moves up the stairs, to see what awaits. He stops moving forward when he can hear the faint sound of someone breathing in a room beyond, possibly Kost, as he has not revealed himself again. Trenchant goes back down to inform the party.

<And as the party decide what to do, in the dangerous and relentless Castle of the Cult, that is the end of the session.>

XP Allocation

Group - Combined (This is equally divided by the number of players who were involved)

Quests (Only quests that are completed or rendered undoable, during this session, are shown here)

- Nil

Creatures Overcome

- Zombies = 600 XP

- Bullywugs = 600 XP

- Dragonclaw (1st Rank Cult Enforcer) = 200 XP

- Dragonwings (2nd Rank Cult Enforcer) = 1800 XP

- Dragonsouls (4th Rank Cult Enforcer) = 11600 XP

Individual (This is only given to that person and is not divided amongst all players)

Special Bonus (Outstanding Role Playing)

Nil

XP Levels and Player Allocations

Player : Start +  Received = Total  (Notes)

Rob : 73422 + 2114 = 75536

Arthur : 54692 + 2114 = 56806

Travis : 64955 + 2114 = 67069

Paul : 55049 + 2114 = 57163

Bob : 60390 + 2114 = 62504

NPC (Naillae) : + (1057)

NPC (Nac): + (1057)

[a-table-of-fics]

The Man from Utah, Chapter 3, Draft 1, Part 6

It was taking some time for Daniel to come back. From his position in the idling truck, he couldn’t even hear signs of any violence. How could the AAHW miss a behemoth like him? No matter; he had to stay vigilant. This was his best shot at getting them off his trail, and besides that, he knew Augustus and Dan trusted him to stick with this.

Finally, he heard gunfire, and Dan’s deep laughter. He shifted into drive, looking through the mirror in time to see Dan running back, gunfire bouncing off his back.

“Lower the portcullis!” he shouted. “Now, before they reach the throne room!”

Liam waited. Ducking just enough so he could still see the mirror, he just needed Dan to be close enough to follow him in.

“Liam! The gates!”

Bullets flew over Liam’s head, one hitting the mirror and shattering it.

Suddenly, the whole truck lurched upwards with a loud bang coming from the bed. Liam turned back to see Daniel’s visor.

“Move, damn you!”

The truck roared to life, surprisingly quick to advance past the tripwires and under the electric net. One quick turn, and he was out of the line of sight and fire. Liam could hear the familiar sound of someone being shocked. He doubted Agents had the same instincts he did from his old career, but he couldn’t rest just yet.

“The dissenters have some kind of electric fence!” one of the Agents called out to his colleagues. “Wait here; they’ll have to come out sooner or later.”

Liam reached for the revolver he still had, and carefully crept forward. He yelped as a hand lifted him up. Dan had effortlessly slung him over his shoulders, and nodded.

“A noble intention, but you’ll need cover.”

To be fair, that helmet looked and felt sturdy enough to deflect all but the most persistent bullets. All the damage he could see on it were scuffs and scratches. Once he got himself situated, he put his hand above the knight’s forehead and prepared to aim.

Even though his aim was still unsteady, Daniel the Mighty was buying him a lot of time, and the doorway was narrow enough that any potshot he took hit an Agent. Most fell backwards instantly, though the fifth one fell right into the fence and got cooked.

“Was that all of them?” Liam asked.

“Those were the ones I did not slay,” Dan replied. “You did well.”

“But… you could have taken the rest out…?”

“I wished to test your defensive measure, and allow you to prove yourself as a friend of King Augustus.”

“…Makes sense, I guess…”

“…Is it over?” Augusus’ voice asked, echoing all around the throne room.

“We have triumphed!”

“Ah, yes, well done…”

Augustus crawled out of an alcove on the far side of the room.

“You have once again, erm, proven yourself a worthy night, Sir… Daniel. Well done. And thank you, Liam, for your defense here…”

[clio2626]

Phantom of the Opera on Broadway (28/04/2018)

So I’ve seen a few people posting reviews lately, and since I had the chance to see Phantom on Broadway last Saturday, I thought I’d share my thoughts about it here! Under the cut, because man, I have a lot of thoughts! 

This was the first time I saw Phantom on Broadway (I’ve also seen the restaged US tour) and I pretty much started crying the moment the curtain went up. I don’t think I realized until that point how much this show mattered to me. :P 

I’m still dying about this so my messages/inbox are open if you want to chat!

I saw Ben Crawford as the Phantom, Kaley Ann Voorhees as Christine, and Rodney Ingram as Raoul.

I’ll start with my impression of Ben:

First, I’d like to say that his voice is just as good as it sounds in the audios. DAMN. It’s smooth and rich and deep and I could listen to it for hours.

His stage presence is electric. From the moment he first appeared behind the mirror I couldn’t look away. His movements are so fluid, except when Erik becomes more agitated or emotional, at which point he crouches down a bit. But Seductive Erik is… ouf. He prowls and slinks across the stage.

Loved his sinister laughs during Il Muto.

He managed to hit almost all the higher pitches perfectly, although I noticed in the AIAOY reprise that he had the same problem with “wing” and “sing” as is audible in the recordings — he hit them a little flat, it seems, but straightened them out pretty quickly.

Overall, his emotionality is VERY convincing. His Phantom shifts between two extremes, with almost no middle ground: seductive and smooth, and just full-on breaking down. Going back to the AIAOY reprise, he’s just completely shattered and does not hide it. At the end of Wandering Child, as Raoul and Christine are escaping, he sort of gasps out “no, don’t go—!” which is so crushing. I know it’s there in the audio, but what you can’t hear is that he sort of staggers toward them and hunches over in despair. Good stuff, Ben Crawford!!

Rewinding to Stranger Than You Dreamt It: his “Oh, Christine” is gorgeous and sad. Also, acting note: he doesn’t crawl toward her. He literally drags himself across the stage on his belly. It’s wretched and affecting. Between his last line there and the flute melody coming in, he reaches out as if to touch Christine and she flinches away - they’re really close by this point - and he just collapses into himself. I die.

A few things (very few things) about his performance I did not love (and these might be due to the fact that I saw him barely 2 weeks after his first performance and some things still need to settle): he does not react AT ALL either time he’s unmasked. He just kind of lets it happen and then freaks out later when he’s singing. It’s an interesting choice but ultimately one I don’t really care for.

Also, I wasn’t entirely convinced of his love for Christine. It came through strongly during his more vulnerable and emotionally anguished scenes (especially Stranger, the first AIAOY reprise, the second one during PONR, and his last few lines) but everywhere else I just didn’t see it. When he reveals the Mirror Bride and Christine faints, he literally does not react. He just kind of watches her fall and then steps around her to get his cloak and cover her with it. I have a hard time believing a man, even a man as extra and deranged as Erik, would show zero concern for the woman he loved falling in a dead faint. This could possibly be explained away as a deliberate choice - to show that Erik doesn’t truly love Christine but rather wants to possess her and use her voice - but meh, that bores me. To each their own, though.

Also, I don’t like the blocking in Down Once More/Track Down This Murderer when Raoul appears behind the portcullis and Erik just lounges on his throne. This is 100% just a personal thing and afaik it’s a normal part of the blocking, but I feel like Erik would be too agitated or manic to be able to lounge and be all sassy during that part.

Some thoughts about Kaley:

I had actually been hoping to get the chance to see Kaley, the alternate Christine, so I got my wish! This is because I find Elizabeth Welch (u/s) to be, vocally at least, more suited to playing Carlotta than Christine, and I also think her pacing is weird. I would have liked to have seen Ali Ewoldt (principal), although I find her vibrato to be a little overpowering, because from what I’ve heard, she's a very solid actress. It would be interesting to compare hers and Kaley’s performances.

In my opinion, Kaley’s voice is the strongest of the current Broadway Christines — it’s clear and balanced, she enunciates well, she hits the highest pitches pretty much flawlessly, and her emotionality is compelling. However, her acting — at least, during the performance I saw — isn’t totally convincing. In terms of her physicality, she’s a little wooden, and her facial expressions seem to cycle between fear, excitement, and, weirdly, just straight-up blankness. That last one was really jarring in some places where I expected her to show more reaction. So, because she made some weird acting choices and I often couldn’t tell what she was going for, I didn’t feel that she fully “earned” the emotion in Wishing or the final lair, although she performed both beautifully. Her Aminta, while vocally pretty much perfect, was a little twitchy. 

When she wakes up in the Phantom’s lair after Music of the Night - especially when she sings “and in the boat there was a man” - she seems excited and pleased to find that her teacher is actually a sexy, enigmatic masked guy, and that part oddly stood out as one of her more convincing bits of acting. I quite liked it. 

I’m sure a lot of this can be attributed to direction and choreography, but especially in Down Once More/Track Down This Murderer I found the blocking left a lot to be desired. During the final trio, there’s a solid ten seconds at least where Christine just stands between Raoul (struggling with the noose) and the Phantom and they all kind of just sing at each other agitatedly. I found the lack of movement awkward. There was a lot of aborted lunging between Christine and the Phantom. 

The kisses were really good! They were long and tender. Ben had some good wavy Phantom arms, and during the second kiss he curled his arms around Kaley and just barely put his hands on her before pushing her away. I liked it. Christine returning the Phantom’s ring was well-acted by Kaley. She ran off-stage sobbing. 

Oh, something else I liked — during their Angel of Music duet, Christine and Meg held hands. I thought that was lovely. And Kara Klein as Meg was a joy.

Last but not least, Rodney:

RODNEY!!! So since I’m dumb and I forgot that there’s no performance on Sundays, I did not realize until Kaley started her speech after their bows that it was his last performance. He started crying almost immediately. I started crying almost immediately. I’m pretty sure most of the audience was at least tearing up. SAD.

I knew I was going to love Rodney almost right away. Even before he sang his first line in the auction scene, he was visibly shaking and crying. I’ve never seen such an affected Old Raoul. Shivers.

He also has some very sassy eyebrow quirking going on throughout the show, usually when dealing with the managers and Carlotta! He kind of tilts his head and raises his eyebrows in challenge. I liked it.

HIS VOICE. HIS VOOOOOOOOOOICE.

He and Kaley play the relationship between Christine and Raoul very well. He’s very confident in the dressing-room scene, but not to the point where he’s cocky. They’re really affectionate and a little playful at times during AIAOY, and they keep kissing and trying to be close to each other during Masquerade. A+.

I was so worried when he had to jump off the bridge into the “lake” (I’ve heard some of the stories haha) but it was fine! That’s the first time I’ve seen that live and oh dear god.

I just can’t articulate how perfectly suited Rodney was for this role. I’m crushed that he’s gone.

Also, Rodney is a lovely person. He was the last to come out at the stage door, and when he saw us he apologized and literally asked if he could sign our playbills and gave us all hugs??

Some more general notes:

Carlton Moe. He plays Piangi. He chatted with me at the stage door and guys, he is SO NICE. He seems to really enjoy talking to fans. We had a great conversation about Piangi’s backstory and his relationship with Carlotta. I can’t even express how genuine this guy is about his role and the show itself. I love him.

Raquel Suarez Groen gave a beautiful performance as Carlotta. She’s really short IRL but when she’s onstage as Carlotta, she’s so commanding. Her voice is clear and gorgeous and she and Piangi play off each other really well. (Also I’m convinced that Raquel is a real life fairy or something. She’s so sweet!)

Notes I had a VERY slow tempo. Like, the slowest I’ve ever heard. Maybe I’ve been spoiled by the RAH production, because that one’s Notes I zipped along, but I found that this one really dragged. They seemed to speed it up in Notes II a little bit more, but still it wasn’t as fast as I would have preferred. Sort of takes away from the patter.

There was a small flub in Point of No Return when Christine pulls Erik’s hood off - it caught a bit on his face.

I got to speak with Jeremy Stolle and Laird Mackintosh, two very excellent human beings and performers. They also let me take pictures with them, and that was pretty much when I died. 

If you’ve made it to the end of this, thank you for reading! :)

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[deathlygristly]

Dr. Morrigan was a mad scientist. Everyone knew that.

His castle sat atop a hill overlooking the village. Tattered pink banners fluttered from gray turrets topped by crumbling crenellations. The drawbridge hadn’t been drawn up in centuries. Its chains hung loose, rusty and rotted. The two portcullises still worked, grudgingly. Dr. Morrigan’s assistant tested them weekly. It wouldn’t do to not have some sort of defense against mobs armed with torches and pitchforks, even if such mobs were unlikely. The villagers had gotten so used to the mad laughter and the crackling bzzzts of electricity and the tortured screaming that they didn’t even hear them anymore. The castle and its occupants had become part of the backdrop of everyday life.

Gunky GilsCarbo pulled on the chains to open the outer portcullis and wished he could be like the villagers. They were free. They were happy. They didn’t have to constantly bust their asses for a crazy dude who didn’t even remember to pay them half the time. The villagers even got to go out on dates, which was totally unfair.

He was in the midst of a dry spell. A dry spell that had lasted for years. It wasn’t that he was ugly, or anything. He wasn’t an Igor, with stitches everywhere and a hump on his back and one eye bigger than the other. It was just that he didn’t have time, and also living in the bowels of a dark dank princess playset really was not good for his complexion. Plus he kind of smelled like mold and electrified dead things.

Gunky checked the list Dr. Morrigan had given him. Electrodes, dry ice, tongue of newt, eye of a hot babe, a brain, and a pound of sugar. Easy peasy. He pulled his scooter out of the little storage shed by the end of the drawbridge and set off down the hill.

The Giant Wonder Box Store For All Your Mad Scientist And Evil Wizard Needs sat uneasily on the outskirts of the village. The huge neon sign buzzed fitfully, the red-lit letters blinking on and off. Weeds sprung up from the cracks in the empty parking lot. Gunky parked his scooter by the entrance and watched as a leaf skittered across the pavement.

He wasn’t sure how this place stayed in business. A small one mad scientist village couldn’t support a huge store like this. He’d never seen any other customers inside. But then, it was a magic store. Maybe the owners created fairy gold to pay off loans and rent and suppliers and stuff, or maybe they were vampires with centuries of investments and this was just a hobby, or maybe they had lots of customers but the customers were all invisible, or maybe something ate all the customers after they made their purchases. He wondered why he’d never been eaten.

He stepped through the glass door. The little bell attached to it jingled.

“Ah, Mr. GilsCarbo, we were told to expect you! Please, what does Dr. Morrigan require from us today?”

A gnome stood on a stool behind the cash register in lane 13. The lanes stretched down the front of the store, on and on and on. Gunky wasn’t sure how many there were. The others were covered with a layer of dust, their signs dark, their displays dead. Only lane 13 was alive, the register’s screen flickering with ads for love potions and death tokens and the Frankenator 9000 Plus, guaranteed to bring your monster to life within three thunderstorms or your money back.

“Uh, the list says electrodes, dry ice, tongue of newt, eye of a hot babe, a brain, and a pound of sugar.”

“My, what a list. I wonder what the old man is up to now! Well come on, don’t just stand around. Time is money, friend!”

The gnome jumped off the stool and headed into the dark recesses of the store. Gunky pulled a cart from the huddled cart masses by the entrance and followed him.

Dust was everywhere. It coated the lab coats, the chainsaws, the cathode ray tubes, the castle defense training games. The right front wheel of the cart squeaked. It was the only sound in the store.

Gunky fell into a daydream involving the eye of a hot babe, a pound of sugar, and the removal of his pants. It was just getting to the good part when the gnome screamed.

“Geez, watch where you’re going with that thing!”

“Oh man, I’m sorry. It’s just, it’s hard to see in here, you know? You guys ever thought about buying brighter light bulbs?”

The gnome stared up at him. Gunky was of the opinion that the gnome’s gaze lingered far too long on his pants.

“Yes, well, here we are, the electrodes Dr. Morrigan requested.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Gunky reached over the cart and the gnome and picked up the package of electrodes. He really wished the gnome would stop looking at him like that.

He dropped the electrodes into the cart. The metal clanged a bit, and as the echo died away he realized how silent it was in the store. Silent, and empty.

“I believe dry ice was on the list?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s in the theatrics department. This way!”

The gnome strode out of the aisle, dust rising up behind him. Gunky followed, determined to stay alert and not hit the little guy with the cart again, no matter how attractive the eye of a hot babe was. No eye of a hot babe could ever be attractive enough to cancel out the creepiness of an eye of a recently struck with a shopping cart gnome.

They passed by plastic tombstones, long black capes, large beehive wigs of black hair with one white stripe, green makeup, giant red buttons and levers, toy sharks with toy laser beams on their heads. All covered with dust. It didn’t look like anyone had been in these aisles in decades.

“Ah yes, here we go. I don’t know why it’s in this section. Yes, it can make pretty smoke, but if I know Dr. Morrigan he needs it to keep body parts frozen. Am I right?”

Gunky pictured Dr. Morrigan’s lab. The test tubes. The vats. The iron gurneys with leather straps. That one weird thing that he’d never been able to figure out, but it had all spikes and a furry bit. Oh, and the boy band posters.

“Yes. Body parts. He’s putting something together. Or I guess someone.”

“Oh ho. Do ask him to mind that this someone does not get loose in the village. I don’t want any mobs torching the store. Come on, let’s go get the poor thing’s tongue.”

The gnome dropped the dry ice in the cart. Again, there was the one lonely thump, and then silence. The silence was really getting on Gunky’s nerves.

“So why don’t you guys pipe some music in here? You know, some evil tunes or something to help shoppers get in the mood.”

The gnome stared at him again. He wondered if maybe he could substitute the eye of a creepy gnome for the eye of a hot babe.

“Come, this way to the organ section.”

As they neared the section with the body parts, Gunky noticed footprints in the dust. Someone had been this way recently. From the way the dust was scuffed up, it looked like they’d been in a hurry.

“Tongue of newt, tongue of newt, where are the newts? It’s so hard to keep fresh organs, you know. Our customers don’t want the preserved stuff. They want their organs ripe and juicy. I could have sworn we got a shipment of newts in just the other day. Oh yes, here they are.”

Gunky stopped just in time to keep the cart from slamming into the gnome. He’d been so busy looking at the odd patterns in the dust that he hadn’t noticed the aquariums and the cages.

He studied the frogs. He read the information listed below the gerbil cage and learned about beta tubulin isotypes in the gerbil organ of Corti. He thought that the salamanders were very pretty.

He didn’t notice any activity or sounds around the newts. Nope. There was nothing going on there at all. In fact, there were no newts.

He focused on a stand with a roll of plastic bags, like the ones in the fruit and vegetable section at the village grocery store. The stand seemed so normal. So out of place here.

The gnome took one of the bags, dropped something that Gunky refused to see in it, and placed the bag in the cart.

“Freshest tongue of newt you can get! Tell Dr. Morrigan that he absolutely must use it within the next twenty four hours. I assume he’s prepared?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so. He’s already got most of the bits, you know. And there’s a storm coming tonight.”

“Good, good. Come on then. Next is the eye of a hot babe, I believe.”

The cages and aquariums were replaced with large jars and coolers. Gunky had been half expecting cages of live humans. He sighed in relief.

The dust was more stirred up here. Someone had been running fast, and there were other prints too.

“We just got this eye in yesterday. Dr. Morrigan is very lucky. It’s not every day that a hot babe comes in the store.”

The other prints weren’t human.

“She paid first, of course. I believe she was buying some materials to make torches. Oh, and she was also very interested in the pitchforks. We have an excellent selection of pitchforks.”

The other prints appeared to be large paws.

“Oh, but of course you’re not interested in pitchforks, are you? No, no, I imagine you would be much more interested in the flame resistant castle curtains. Well, here is your eye of a hot babe.”

The gnome dropped a small plastic box into the cart. Gunky, pumped full of adrenalin and on high alert, could hear liquid sloshing around inside it. There was another sound, out on the far edge of hearing. It sounded like something breathing.

“Let’s see. Next on the list was a brain, I believe?”

“Yep! That’s the most important part. You gotta have a good brain. The last time he tried this, he used Old Cockeye’s brain. Do you know Old Cockeye? He used to go around the village yelling about what the witches were doing to the soil and how the government was covering up a fae invasion. That didn’t work too well. We ended up having to kill that monster and use it for parts.”

Gunky babbled, hoping to sound normal, hoping to sound like someone who could just pay and leave and put the bags into the basket on his scooter and ride back home, back to the lovely princess playset castle and Dr. Morrigan. If he got out of here he would never say anything bad about Dr. Morrigan again.

The gnome walked up and down the aisle. The breathing sound got louder.

“Oh yes, of course, a good brain is very important, and we do so value Dr. Morrigan as a customer.”

The gnome looked through the coolers. The breathing came closer.

“I don’t remember when we last got a brain. We might not have one. Certainly not a fresh one. No, no. And of course it must be a human brain. Newt brain won’t work, not for this.”

The gnome looked up. Gunky could almost feel hot breath on his neck.

“Sir, do you mind paying now?”

Gunky took a second to process the meaning of that question.

“Oh hell naw!”

The gnome couldn’t have his brain! He needed his brain! He needed it to think, and be alive, and stuff!

He turned and ran, kicking up the dust. Running just as the hot babe had, following her trail. Maybe the gnome had only taken her eye. Maybe she’d gotten away, and now she was hiding in the store somewhere. Maybe it was her breathing.

“Cerebrallus! Fetch that brain!”

Or maybe not. ---

The gnome put the electrodes, dry ice, tongue of newt, eye of hot babe, and the nice fresh brain of a mad scientist’s assistant into the scooter’s basket. He couldn’t believe his luck. He was finally getting out of that nasty store. He’d get to work for Dr. Morrigan. Dr. Morrigan, the most respected of all the mad scientists, the one working on the cutting edge of monster creation. The newt’s tongue was a really clever innovation, and he’d love to see the look on the faces of the other mad scientists at the MadFranken convention when they saw the eye of the hot babe.

And of course the brain of the assistant. He was quite proud of that. It was his own gift to Dr. Morrigan, his way of saying “I can work with you. I’m smart enough, I’m good enough, and doggone it, my monster dog is really well trained to not injure the parts I need.”

The scooter was a little big for him, but he managed. He drove off towards the castle. ----

Rain came down in sheets. The wind knocked a few more blocks off the crumbling crenellations. The castle shook with thunder.

Dr. Morrigan stood by the huge red lever, waiting. His new assistant had procured the perfect brain for his creation. Everything was ready. Just one lightning strike, and he would be the talk of the world. He would get a full feature in Monsters Makers Weekly. He would receive a grant from the Institute of Crazed Scientists. All the hot babes at the MadFranken convention would fall at his feet.

The lightning strike came. Adrenalin rushed from his kidneys as he pulled the lever. This was it!

“Rise, my monster! Rise!”

Nothing happened.

He looked at the lever, confused.

Nothing continued to happen.

He looked at his new assistant, the clever little gnome. The gnome looked back at him.

A sudden horrible thought struck him.

“Did you forget the pound of sugar?”

Making evil purchases at the supervillainmarket

[firewritten]

Some Assembly Required

Dr. Morrigan was a mad scientist. Everyone knew that.

His castle sat atop a hill overlooking the village. Tattered pink banners fluttered from gray turrets topped by crumbling crenellations. The drawbridge hadn’t been drawn up in centuries. Its chains were rusty and rotted. The two portcullises still worked, grudgingly. Dr. Morrigan’s assistant tested them weekly. It wouldn’t do to not have some sort of defense against mobs armed with torches and pitchforks, even if such mobs were unlikely. The villagers had gotten so used to the mad laughter and the crackling bzzzts of electricity and the tortured screaming that they didn’t even hear them anymore. The castle and its occupants had become part of the backdrop of everyday life.

Gunky GilsCarbo pulled on the chains to open the outer portcullis and wished he could be like the villagers. They were free. They were happy. They didn’t have to constantly bust their asses for a boss who didn’t even remember to pay them half the time. The villagers even got to go out on dates, which was totally unfair.

He was in the midst of a dry spell. A dry spell that had lasted for years. It wasn’t that he was ugly, or anything. He wasn’t an Igor, with stitches everywhere and a hump on his back and one eye bigger than the other. It was just that he didn’t have time, and also living in the bowels of a dark dank princess playset really was not good for his complexion. Plus he kind of smelled like mold and electrified dead things.

Gunky checked the list Dr. Morrigan had given him. Electrodes, dry ice, tongue of newt, eye of a hot babe, a brain, and a pound of sugar. Easy peasy. He pulled his scooter out of the little storage shed by the end of the drawbridge and set off down the hill.

The Giant Wonder Box Store For All Your Mad Scientist And Evil Wizard Needs sat uneasily on the outskirts of the village. The huge neon sign buzzed fitfully, the red-lit letters blinking on and off. Weeds sprung up from the cracks in the empty parking lot. Gunky parked his scooter by the entrance and watched as a leaf skittered across the pavement.

He wasn’t sure how this place stayed in business. A small one mad scientist village couldn’t support a huge store like this. He’d never seen any other customers inside. But then, it was a magic store. Maybe the owners created fairy gold to pay off loans and rent and suppliers and stuff, or maybe they were vampires with centuries of investments and this was just a hobby, or maybe they had lots of customers but the customers were all invisible, or maybe something ate all the customers after they made their purchases. He wondered why he’d never been eaten.

He stepped through the glass door. The little bell attached to it jingled.

“Ah, Mr. GilsCarbo, we were told to expect you! Please, what does Dr. Morrigan require from us today?”

A gnome stood on a stool behind the cash register in lane 13. The lanes stretched down the front of the store, on and on and on. Gunky wasn’t sure how many there were. The others were covered with a layer of dust, their signs dark, their displays dead. Only lane 13 was alive, the register’s screen flickering with ads for love potions and death tokens and the Frankenator 9000 Plus, guaranteed to bring your monster to life within three thunderstorms or your money back.

“Uh, the list says electrodes, dry ice, tongue of newt, eye of a hot babe, a brain, and a pound of sugar.”

“My, what a list. I wonder what the old man is up to now! Well come on, don’t just stand around. Time is money, friend!”

The gnome jumped off the stool and headed into the dark recesses of the store. Gunky pulled a cart from the huddled cart masses by the entrance and followed him.

Dust was everywhere. It coated the lab coats, the chainsaws, the cathode ray tubes, the castle defense training games. The right front wheel of the cart squeaked. It was the only sound in the store.

Gunky fell into a daydream involving the eye of a hot babe, a pound of sugar, and the removal of his pants. It was just getting to the good part when the gnome screamed.

“Geez, watch where you’re going with that thing!”

“Oh man, I’m sorry. It’s just, it’s hard to see in here, you know? You guys ever thought about buying brighter light bulbs?”

The gnome stared up at him. Gunky was of the opinion that the gnome’s gaze lingered far too long on his pants.

“Yes, well, here we are, the electrodes Dr. Morrigan requested.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Gunky reached over the cart and the gnome and picked up the package of electrodes. He really wished the gnome would stop looking at him like that. 

He dropped the electrodes into the cart. The metal clanged a bit, and as the echo died away he realized how silent it was in the store. Silent, and empty.

“I believe dry ice was on the list?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s in the theatrics department. This way!”

The gnome strode out of the aisle, dust rising up behind him. Gunky followed, determined to stay alert and not hit the little guy with the cart again, no matter how attractive the eye of a hot babe was. No eye of a hot babe could ever be attractive enough to cancel out the creepiness of an eye of a recently struck with a shopping cart gnome.

They passed by plastic tombstones, long black capes, large beehive wigs of black hair with one white stripe, green makeup, giant red buttons and levers, toy sharks with toy laser beams on their heads. All covered with dust. It didn’t look like anyone had been in these aisles in decades.

“Ah yes, here we go. I don’t know why it’s in this section. Yes, it can make pretty smoke, but if I know Dr. Morrigan he needs it to keep body parts frozen. Am I right?”

Gunky pictured Dr. Morrigan’s lab. The test tubes. The vats. The iron gurneys with leather straps. That one weird thing that he’d never been able to figure out, but it had all spikes and a furry bit. Oh, and the boy band posters.

“Yes. Body parts. He’s putting something together. Or I guess someone.”

“Oh ho. Do ask him to mind that this someone does not get loose in the village. I don’t want any mobs torching the store. Come on, let’s go get the poor thing’s tongue.”

The gnome dropped the dry ice in the cart. Again, there was the one lonely thump, and then silence. The silence was really getting on Gunky’s nerves.

“So why don’t you guys pipe some music in here? You know, some evil tunes or something to help shoppers get in the mood.”

The gnome stared at him again. He wondered if maybe he could substitute the eye of a creepy gnome for the eye of a hot babe.

“Come, this way to the organ section.”

As they neared the section with the body parts, Gunky noticed footprints in the dust. Someone had been this way recently. From the way the dust was scuffed up, it looked like they’d been in a hurry.

“Tongue of newt, tongue of newt; where are the newts? It’s so hard to keep fresh organs, you know. Our customers don’t want the preserved stuff. They want their organs ripe and juicy. I could have sworn we got a shipment of newts in just the other day. Oh yes, here they are.”

Gunky stopped just in time to keep the cart from slamming into the gnome. He’d been so busy looking at the odd patterns in the dust that he hadn’t noticed the aquariums and the cages.

He studied the frogs. He read the information listed below the gerbil cage and learned about beta tubulin isotypes in the gerbil organ of Corti. He thought that the salamanders were very pretty.

He didn’t notice any activity or sounds around the newts. Nope. There was nothing going on there at all. In fact, there were no newts.

He focused on a stand with a roll of plastic bags, like the ones in the fruit and vegetable section at the village grocery store. The stand seemed so normal. So out of place here.

The gnome took one of the bags, dropped something that Gunky refused to see in it, and placed the bag in the cart.

“Freshest tongue of newt you can get! Tell Dr. Morrigan that he absolutely must use it within the next twenty four hours. I assume he’s prepared?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so. He’s already got most of the bits, you know. And there’s a storm coming tonight.”

“Good, good. Come on then. Next is the eye of a hot babe, I believe.”

The cages and aquariums were replaced with large jars and coolers. Gunky had been half expecting cages of live humans. He sighed in relief.

The dust was more stirred up here. Someone had been running fast, and there were other prints too.

“We just got this eye in yesterday. Dr. Morrigan is very lucky. It’s not every day that a hot babe comes in the store.”

The other prints weren’t human.

“He paid first, of course. I believe he was buying some materials to make torches. Oh, and he was also very interested in the pitchforks. We have an excellent selection of pitchforks.”

The other prints appeared to be large paws.

“Oh, but of course you’re not interested in pitchforks, are you? No, no, I imagine you would be much more interested in the flame resistant castle curtains. Well, here is your eye of a hot babe.”

The gnome dropped a small plastic box into the cart. Gunky, pumped full of adrenalin and on high alert, could hear liquid sloshing around inside it. There was another sound, out on the far edge of hearing. It sounded like something breathing.

“Let’s see. Next on the list was a brain, I believe?”

“Yep! That’s the most important part. You gotta have a good brain. The last time he tried this, he used Old Cockeye’s brain. Do you know Old Cockeye? He used to go around the village yelling about what the witches were doing to the soil and how the government was covering up a fae invasion. That didn’t work too well. We ended up having to kill that monster and use it for parts.”

Gunky babbled, hoping to sound normal, hoping to sound like someone who could just pay and leave and put the bags into the basket on his scooter and ride back home, back to the lovely princess playset castle and Dr. Morrigan. If he got out of here he would never say anything bad about Dr. Morrigan again.

The gnome walked up and down the aisle. The breathing sound got louder.

“Oh yes, of course, a good brain is very important, and we do so value Dr. Morrigan as a customer.”

The gnome looked through the coolers. The breathing came closer.

“I don’t remember when we last got a brain. We might not have one. Certainly not a fresh one. No, no. And of course it must be a human brain. Newt brain won’t work, not for this.”

The gnome looked up. Gunky could almost feel hot breath on his neck.

“Sir, do you mind paying now?”

Gunky took a second to process the meaning of that question.

“Oh hell naw!”

The gnome couldn’t have his brain! He needed his brain! He needed it to think, and be alive, and stuff!

He turned and ran, kicking up the dust. Running just as the hot babe had, following his trail. Maybe the gnome had only taken his eye. Maybe he’d gotten away, and now he was hiding in the store somewhere. Maybe it was him breathing.

“Cerebrallus! Fetch that brain!”

Or maybe not. -

The gnome put the electrodes, dry ice, tongue of newt, eye of a hot babe, and the nice fresh brain of a mad scientist’s assistant into the scooter’s basket. He couldn’t believe his luck. He was finally getting out of that nasty store. He’d get to work for Dr. Morrigan. Dr. Morrigan, the most respected of all the mad scientists, the one working on the cutting edge of monster creation. The newt’s tongue was a really clever innovation, and he’d love to see the look on the faces of the other mad scientists at the MadFranken convention when they saw the eye of the hot babe.

And of course the brain of the assistant. He was quite proud of that. It was his own gift to Dr. Morrigan, his way of saying “I can work with you. I’m smart enough, I’m good enough, and doggone it, my monster dog is really well trained to not injure the parts I need.”

The scooter was a little big for him, but he managed. He drove off towards the castle. -

Rain came down in sheets. The wind knocked a few more blocks off the crumbling crenellations. The castle shook with thunder.

Dr. Morrigan stood by the huge red lever, waiting. His new assistant had procured the perfect brain for his creation. Everything was ready. Just one lightning strike, and he would be the talk of the world. He would get a full feature in Monster Makers Weekly. He would receive a grant from the Institute of Crazed Scientists. All the hot babes at the MadFranken convention would fall at his feet.

The lightning strike came. Adrenalin rushed from his kidneys as he pulled the lever. This was it!

“Rise, my monster! Rise!”

Nothing happened.

He looked at the lever, confused.

Nothing continued to happen.

He looked at his new assistant, the clever little gnome. The gnome looked back at him.

A sudden horrible thought struck him.

“Did you forget the pound of sugar?”