#from the indoor festival set apparently

[vulpiximisa]

I don’t play the game so I’ve never seen these outfits before but they’re pretty cool! I’d love to see them more but this is from a really old set, so I doubt they’ll ever bring it up again when they can just make new outfits 😅

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 4 - Prompt: Evoke @pandalilymicrofics

February Daily Series - 963 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Lily eyed the four blokes blocking her way suspiciously. This impasse started about ten minutes ago and three aisles over with Remus distracting her from reshelving the returns with a long-winded story about a pair of “lost ships.” He clearly thought that it was the perfect allegory for missed opportunities, but it sounded particularly absurd to hear from his lips.

Then, Sirius appeared from nowhere and steered the conversation toward social media stalkers, which was apparently a little too on the nose for Remus. When she’d finally slipped past them, James stopped her in the next aisle to ask if she was attending the Yule Festival tonight, and when she said “yes,” he proceeded to incorporate her into their collective plans. Lily managed to duck into the last aisle and reshelve the remaining four biographies in her hands, only to find all four of them blocking her exit afterwards.

“What‘s this then?” she demanded, propping her hands on her hips. “I haven’t seen you here in weeks,” Lily pointed out to Remus before eyeing Sirius and James, “and the two of you are rarely indoors for more than twenty minutes.”

She gestured vaguely at the small stack of books in Regulus’s hand. “He’s the only one who seems to know what a bookshop’s purpose is.”

“I don’t know why they’re here, but I wasn’t going to turn down a chance to buy books,” Regulus admitted with a shrug. He glanced between Sirius and Remus curiously. “Why are you here?”

“We,” Sirius said, gesturing between himself and Remus, “are here to visit with Lily. Since I’m only in town for a few more days, I thought it would be nice to spend some time together. Evoke a little friendly comradery.”

James nodded avidly, which wasn’t at all suspicious. “Right, and I’m here to buy Regulus books for the ride home. I just figured you might want to join all of us tonight.”

“All of you? And how many is that meant to be?” she checked.

“My parents, Sirius, Remus, Regulus, me, Peter, and Pandora,” James replied, ticking the names off of his fingers. “Yeah, I think that’s it.”

Lily frowned as she went through the list internally. “So, is that four couples? And me?”

“Oh, no! Pandora is my flatmate from London, and she’s coming to meet James,” Regulus assured her. “I haven’t even met Peter yet.”

“He’s a friend from uni,” Sirius replied quickly. A little too quickly.

“Remus? What’s going on here?”

Remus rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “A coincidence?”

“If you say so.” Lily flailed her hands at the blockade until Regulus ducked behind James and Remus stepped out of her way. “I have work to do. Can whatever you’re plotting wait until tonight?”

“So, you will join us?” James asked, rocking on his heels like a small child.

“I’ll be at the festival. If I run into the lot of you, so be it, but I’m not committing to wasting my whole night following you idiots around,” she said, rolling her eyes at Sirius’s scoff. Spinning on her heel, she glared at Remus pointedly. “If I find out you’re trying to set me up again, and I will find out, you will not like the consequences, Remus John Lupin.”

“Definitely not,” he agreed.

Sirius looked gobsmacked. “John? Remus John?”

Lily strode away with her head held high and her arms swinging at her sides. She was confident in two things after that confrontation: Remus wouldn’t dare attempt to replicate the Gideon and Fabian incident from uni and the combination of James and Sirius was asking for trouble. As if she didn’t already know those two were as brilliant as they were foolish. She just wished that they didn’t drag Remus into their nonsense.

And me. Leave me out of this. Whatever “this” is.

She busied herself straightening the display tables out front until the quartet of chaos left. The last thing she needed was to be caught up in one of their “incidents.” The Potters may be dear friends of Mr. Lupin, but their son and his friends set off her red flag alarm. Individually, they were fine, but together? Pure chaos.

“Lily? Phone call for you!” Alice called, waving from the back office.

She waved back as she reached for the handset at the register. “Thank you, Alice!”

“Hello, this is Lily, can I help you?”

A long silence followed. It wasn’t one of those creepers that breathe into the receiver, or even the empty mechanical silence of a telemarketer who hadn’t connected yet. This was…shy.

Lily toyed with the old, misshapen cord that connected the phone to the wall. Mr. Lupin refused to replace it with a cordless or headset because he was afraid they’d lose it. The man could be such a dinosaur for only being fifty-five.

“Hello?”

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t expecting…I mean, you caught me off-guard, that’s all.” The voice was both timid and defensive, but slowly lifting in volume.

“Alright, what can I do for you?” she repeated, keeping her tone as professional as possible.

“I was looking for a book about…never mind, you probably don’t have it.”

The call ended abruptly and left Lily staring at the archaic device in confusion. It stung a little to be dismissed so quickly, which was stupid. She hung up the phone and shook her head clear.

Leave it. Just a weird one, that’s all.

Except it nagged at the back of her mind the rest of the day. The woman’s voice was strong, but she’d rambled as though her thoughts were scattered on the floor and puzzling them together was too much effort. The hang-up was likely from her own embarrassment for being caught daydreaming, and yet…she couldn’t help wondering who she was.

Next Part>>>

[chrysoula]

Kazuha was not exactly arguing. He’d already repeated his casual anticipation of nighttime rain to three different, increasingly nervous Firehearts, and now he was doing it for a fourth time for Eclest.

Eclest sounded grave as it said, “The day is far too long for it to rain tonight, as it normally goes. Are you confident in your information, friend Kazuha? Steps must be taken immediately if so, and those steps will be rather disruptive.”

He spread his hands. “I’m a stranger to this land. All I can say is that everything I sense promises rainfall, perhaps including lightning—but the Great Storm makes that uncertain.” He’d been a little surprised that the Firehearts, with their own strange senses, hadn’t picked up on the many little signs of nature tuning itself for a downpour.  But he was genuinely concerned by their distress. “Is there danger involved with rain here?”

“As long as we shelter indoors, all is well. But the rain is usually so predictable, and there are special rules we must follow while we shelter— Nothing to concern yourself with, though. I don’t believe humans suffer notably from the rain, although that prankster Rago does sometimes— But at least we should be spared that concern with your party— Ah, Cerise! Play a new song, please!” Eclest seemed genuinely perturbed for the first time in Kazuha’s experience. “The village must be warned. Yes, yes, I know, so many are busy with festival projects, but they must simply take them indoors. It’s a bad night to be subject to raindreams.”

Albedo’s group approached, with Albedo well in the lead. With a strained voice, he said, “Kazuha. What’s happening?”

“Our hosts have their own customs around rainy weather, that’s all.” Kazuha hesitated, and then added, “And apparently rain tonight is out of season.” He had mixed feelings on the wisdom of calling out the unusualness of the weather, but Albedo either already knew or would figure it out soon; the only question was how much it would worry him.

But Albedo relaxed a little at the news. “Oh yes, I wondered about that, but concluded there are far too many variables involved with changes in the weather to draw any conclusions yet. They seem quite concerned, though.”

A ripple passed through the gathering crowd of Firehearts as Albedo calmed, a flicker like an eye adjusting to bright light. It happened so quickly that another man might have doubted his eyes, but not Kazuha.

“My friend,” said Eclest, returning its attention to the bearer of bad tidings. “May I ask you to take over the song once the overcast thickens? You need only maintain it until the rain falls, and after that we will sing in our homes for the duration of the storm.”

“I’d be happy to do so.” Kazuha eyed the sky, which was already developing a faint haze. “I think you have perhaps an hour or so until that point. I’ll fetch the harp. Shall I warn Firehearts along my path?”

“Warn them? No, no.” Even as he spoke, the song changed to something heavier and more ominous. The inverted bell ornament over the song pavilion shivered and released a low note that lasted uncomfortably long before fading out. “But do feel free to display your instrument as you return; it might comfort some.”

“Very well.” 

As Kazuha set out, he noted Xingqiu having an intense conversation with Mibrite, even as Albedo said, “Ah, so the song is intended to coordinate village activity—”

The new song had a visible effect on the villagers Kazuha passed on his short trip to the lodge, although the range of reactions went from disbelief to exasperation to mild panic. At the lodge, Kazuha looked around and then said quietly, “Xiao?”

The yaksha appeared in front of him, holding out the harp Kazuha had left on the table inside.

Kazuha accepted it, but also said, “Do you think there’s anything to be concerned by in this unseasonable weather?”

Flatly, Xiao said, “Rain is nothing you need worry about.”

Kazuha gazed at the yaksha, who looked stoically back at him. He and the yaksha hadn’t spoken much privately, but this was more a result of their similarly quiet personalities rather than any lack of sympathy between them. So he coughed politely before saying, “I too dislike worrying my companions unnecessarily, so I believe I understand where you’re coming from. However—”

“I also will shelter from the rain within the lodge,” Xiao interrupted. “Does that soothe your mortal anxieties?”

Kazuha thought back to the night before, when Xiao had joined the men’s tea table, and understood. Whatever concerned Xiao about the storm, he was still more concerned about Albedo’s potential responses.

“I look forward to your company,” Kazuha said, glancing up at the dimming sky. “And thank you for the loan of your harp.”

Xiao’s face twisted into the sort of scowl Zielle often prompted, but Kazuha paid no attention as he turned away. As he returned to the song pavilion, he passed Hu Tao and Klee going the other way, with Klee talking happily about rainy day dinners, most of which they simply didn’t have the ingredients for. But they still had plenty of noodles and dried fish, at least. If nobody else could assemble a warm meal from that, he certainly could once he’d finished his task. But he doubted Klee, at least, would last that long, and he trusted the others to provide what she needed.

At the song pavilion, Albedo and Xingqiu stood together still, talking quietly. Only Eclest and Cerise, the current musician, remained at the pavilion, leaving it far emptier than Kazuha had usually found it even at night. He went to verify his role with the village elder.

“Eclest. Is there a particular piece or type of music I should play? I noticed you had Cerise switch to a new song that seemed to better fit the circumstances.”

“Oh, what a lovely instrument that is,” said Eclest absently, the slight warmth of its flame’s focus flicking over Kazuha’s hands. “Strings, too. That alleviates my concern about your ability to sustain a performance for more than a song with that flute.”

Kazuha smiled. “I’m glad.” The Firehearts were familiar with wind instruments, but seemed to have serious concerns about the human requirement for breathing, and how that interfaced with breath-powered music. This had mildly amused him, but he had to admit he had very little experience with sustained, unbroken performances. The advantage of music as a hobby was that he could usually pause, stop, and rest whenever he pleased. He wasn’t nearly as proficient with the harp as his flute, either, but this would be an excellent chance to refine his skills. 

“As for the kind of music, play as your heart dictates. As long as your feelings are genuine, that will be enough for us. Ah, yes… I can certainly see the clouds extending from the Great Storm now. Cerise, if you would play a little longer, I’ll see to the belongings you left in the water garden.”

Once Cerise had indicated slightly uneasy agreement, continuing to attend to the glass harmonica that it specialized in, Eclest departed and Kazuha joined Albedo and Xingqiu.

Xingqiu said, “Apparently it’s the aurora that causes problems. When it rains, Firehearts who aren’t under a roof can hallucinate dangerously. Rain-dreaming, Mibrite called it. But since rainfall is so predictable, it doesn’t seem to be something they worry about most of the time. I figured I’d stick around in case you end up needing a break.”

Kazuha asked, “Oh, do you have experience with the flute or harp?”

“Oh, well, I had music lessons as a child, of course, but I didn’t bring a zither or anything. I can whistle like a pro, though!”

“Ah…” Albedo said diffidently. “I can probably play the harp as well, if it becomes necessary. I observed you last night and it seems reasonably straightforward, especially since I have a bit of experience with a lyre.”

Kazuha chuckled. “I think I’ll be all right for an hour or so, but I welcome the company.” He looked over at Cerise again, and then glanced at the sky. The thickening clouds, although still white and puffy, were growing visibly, amplifying the twilight.

“If you wish, I can take over now,” he suggested to the Fireheart. “As you can see, I have support. We’ll keep it going.”

Cerise played for a phrase more, barely-detectable flickers of flame brushing over each of the bowls, her own globe spinning slowly, before saying, “After this piece, then.”

Kazuha seated himself, and paid attention to the music. Albedo and Xingqiu stayed respectfully silent, which he was sure was unsettling for the Fireheart musician. It had been genuinely hard for Kazuha to tell if there was a practical reason for the village’s endless concert, because it was so deeply woven into the village life. The song pavilion was the heart of the village, where friends met and arguments were displayed for the public (sometimes through lyrics). While solo performers seemed to be the base state, additional Firehearts wandered in and out of the song, entering for a chorus or a harmony or a counterpoint. Sometimes it altered to suit the mood or the circumstances; sometimes it was a whisper of intimate chamber music, easily overshadowed by events around it, and seeking to be. Sometimes, it swelled to join a hubbub; sometimes, it expressed the performer’s own heart and the village paused to listen in acknowledgement of that.

He’d been forced to conclude that, whether or not it served a worldly function, the song was a holy thing. They’d let him carry it for a few minutes the day before, but they’d paid attention in a solemn silence he knew his performance didn’t deserve. It seemed clear to him that humans joining a performance was welcome—the pavilion had benches the Firehearts didn’t use—but letting one carry the song alone was extremely rare; he was grateful enough for their kindness not to seek the spotlight again.

But he’d noticed that the song pavilion almost never lacked nearby conversation. His own weak effort, and a few other brief instances over the past few days, that was all. And all of those other times, there had at the very least been an attentive audience. But Cerise, right now, was alone in an abnormal situation. He couldn’t make the situation more normal, but he could at least free it from its duty smoothly. So, when he felt ready, he began to play alongside the Fireheart, and allowed it to fade out at its own pace. After it did, it remained still and quiet, listening as he transitioned to playing his own song. Then, with a nervous bob, the Fireheart fled, and Kazuha understood it wasn’t a personal critique.

Albedo sat down next to Kazuha, with Xingqiu sitting on Albedo’s far side. “That was… unusually unfriendly for the locals. They really are concerned about the song stopping, aren’t they?”

“I wonder why…” mused Xingqiu. “They don’t seem to want to tell us, I’ve noticed.”

“I’d like to respect that,” said Kazuha firmly, his fingers resting naturally for two beats. 

Xingqiu said hastily, “Right, right.” Ducking his head, he glanced sidelong at his neighbor.

“Maybe they don’t know,” said Albedo, oblivious to Xingqiu’s nudge. “I admit to feeling a twinge of concern that we might cause unknowing harm, but I suppose if they entrusted the ritual to outsiders, it must not be that important.”

That told Kazuha quite a lot about Albedo’s current state of mind. Meanwhile, Xingqiu corrected Albedo. “They didn’t ask a random outsider; they asked Kazuha.”

“That’s true,” conceded Albedo. “Kazuha is his own special case.”

A silence fell, other than Kazuha’s playing, but it felt natural and appropriate, and he deeply appreciated it. He listened instead to the wind as it began to pick up, making cloth banners somewhere in the village snap in the wind. Although it hadn’t yet started to rain, spray lifted from the nearest pools of water to scent the air.

Abruptly Xingqiu announced, “You know what, you two don’t need my whistling and I’m apparently still a growing boy, so I’m going to head back and try to get in on Klee’s pre-dinner snack. Make sure to come back before you get too wet!”

With a wave, he ran off, and Kazuha thought wryly that Xingqiu had too high an opinion of him. Albedo said pleasantly, “Well then. I’d hoped he wouldn’t do that.”

“I don’t mind,” Kazuha offered. It was an opportunity, perhaps, although not the one he would have chosen. Yet again.

After a hesitation, Albedo said, “All right.”

After another lull, with the sky growing truly dark under the blackening clouds, Kazuha began  a familiar section and said, “I mentioned that I hadn’t smelled rain since leaving Teyvat. I didn’t realize the dread I’d awaken.”

Albedo’s gaze lifted to the clouds. “You gave them that much more time to prepare, though. It sounds like it could have been much worse.” 

After plucking another few phrases, Kazuha admitted, “I keep thinking of the Scythewind.”

“The potential for danger, you mean?” Albedo’s calm was that of a mirrored lake.

“Not that.” He concentrated on a tricky fingering before continuing. “The wind, the rain, in many ways, they paint the world for me. They shape so much. And yet, their effects here are… unfamiliar.” He sighed, and shifted to a simpler song. “I feel very far from home, at times.”

Albedo remained quiet for a time, but it was a silence so pregnant with unspoken thoughts that Kazuha was unsurprised when his companion finally stirred and said, “Your home betrayed you, did it not?”

An Inazuman folk song now, one he’d known since birth, about the farewell of the Thunderbird. “I don’t know. Maybe, although I don’t usually feel that way. The Shogun… is the one betraying Inazuma.”

The sky darkened and the clouds churned, but no lightning flashed overhead. Nobody was on the streets now, but the buildings started lighting up. Kage, his feathers glimmering, flashed by overhead on his way to the lodge, spiraling into a rising wind. 

Kazuha laughed quietly, and then said, “As you can imagine, that isn’t a popular opinion there. I am… undoubtedly a criminal to my countrymen. But the ancient slopes, the great trees, the little shrines, the sandbars and misty mornings; as long they remain… Inazuma is my home. Despite everything, it haunts me still.” He half-shrugged, and concentrated on his playing, rather than his companion, or his thoughts.

After a moment, Albedo said, “You seem to have something on your mind, but I must admit I don’t quite understand why you’re discussing this with me.”

Kazuha breathed in and out, readying himself before saying, “You already know it all, don’t you? Every little stain on my heart. I thought perhaps you might have advice for me.” Despite his preparation, his playing stumbled as he felt the dream cell around him; felt Albedo’s fingers against his skin.

(Just a memory.)

As Kazuha regained control over the music and his own reactions, Albedo stood up abruptly, and then sat back down again. “I— What I know and what I understand are two very different things, Kazuha. Wasn’t this apparent in our earlier conversations?”

“Yes. It was.” He made his fingers gentle against the strings. “But I’ve always valued your wisdom and perspective, Albedo. I’d quite like to receive the benefit of it when you’re not actively trying to break me.” He grimaced and shook his head, instantly regretting his harsh phrasing but unwilling to soften it. His fingers were playing the simplest of tunes now, finding the notes on their own according to his heart.

Then he reconsidered and said, “No, what I ask for has no value if you don’t wish to give it. I’ll drop it and we can enjoy the last twilight together instead.”

“Kazuha—” Albedo’s voice sounded strangled, until he cut himself off. Then, more rapidly than Kazuha had ever heard him speak, he said, “My situation is somewhat different. I never had a home, only a master. One day, I woke and she was gone. She’d left me a few items, some instructions, and that was all. I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again. I’m afraid of what will happen if I do. I used to long for a reunion, and now—” He dragged in a breath, and regained some of his composure. “My emotions feel complicated, but yours seem quite simple to me, which I suspect means I understand nothing at all.”

“Try me,” invited Kazuha, half-closing his eyes and remembering the autumn moon over Yashiori as his fingers moved. It was a peaceful, lonely image. Although the scarlet maple leaves faded in shadow, the heavy, cold moonlight gave them razor edges. The hills became the silhouettes of sleeping giants, black against the shining cosmos (save for the glint of bone). He remembered feeling like he was present at some rare alignment of the world. It had been an exhilarating moment for his twelve year old self. 

Albedo exhaled and then said, like he was reading a fact sheet, “You love your homeland and despise the Raiden Shogun. You’ve decided your sword is meant to protect, even though you’ve slain dozens of your own countrymen. You struggle with the intersection of desire and responsibility, over and over. And you’re afraid of what the future will bring if you follow your heart. That much, at least, we do have in common. Your next step seems obvious to me but as you pointed out, my perspective is different and I cannot cleanly adjust for my own bias.”

After letting Albedo’s observations settle into his heart, Kazuha said, “Thank you.” Then he played some variations on his earlier theme, watching and listening as the clouds swirled silently overhead and the wind became fitful. In the west, the aurora began to shimmer over the forest, lighting up the clouds in a reflecting display Kazuha knew would disorient him if he focused on it too much. Albedo didn’t seem to have that problem, watching the jarring display with half-closed eyes as if interpreting something else through it.

Kazuha left him to it, focusing on his music, so that he could time the song’s end to that moment of atmospheric balance before the clouds opened up. When he lifted his fingers from the strings and held his breath, a bubble of silence wrapped itself around him. Beyond it came musical murmurs from with the Fireheart homes, but next to his skin, he could feel the perfect stillness of the air, and the song still echoing in his heart.

Thank you, said the silence, before it was punctuated by the first drops of rain, and merged into the swell of the village chorus.

“You’re welcome,” said Kazuha, standing up and tucking the harp away from the wet. Albedo stirred and then glanced at him curiously, so he added, half-smiling,  “Come on, let’s get back before we get soaked in the process.”

“Of course.” Ever-graceful (even when puzzled), Albedo rose. As they stepped out into the still-light rain, he asked, “You stopped early, did you not? Will you tell me why?”

Kazuha shrugged, lifting his face to the sky “It felt like a melody that ended with silence, not rain. And the village chorus had been coming together for a while.” He smiled again, remembering. “I think our performance was acceptable.”

“Our performance?” Albedo’s pace hitched a little.

A raindrop landed in Kazuha’s nose. He sneezed and shook his head. Then he clapped Albedo on the back. “My friend, I could not have played that song without you beside me.” 

Albedo brooded on this for a few steps, replaying the song in his memory. Then he said, “Kazuha, I am certain that you in particular can’t forgive me so easily as that. What I did….Your mind is literally still recovering—”

Kazuha wasn’t patient enough to wait for all that, so he cut in politely. “I think that’s one of the ways we’re different. Perhaps I can explain it to you another time. But you’re on the wrong trail here.”

“Enlighten me, then.” Albedo’s voice was neutral. 

Kazuha shrugged. “Very simply, I’d rather be angry at a friend than a stranger.” 

“…Ah,” said Albedo, after a moment. Kazuha was happy to let him sit with the thought.

As they approached the lodge, water puddled on the road as the rain intensified. Abruptly Paimon darted out from the basecamp door and halfway across the road. Putting her fists on her waist, she called, “Hey, Kaeya, you look pretty cool out here brooding.”

Kaeya, who had been leaning on the building across the street again, glanced up as Paimon kept talking. “But you also look kinda pathetic. So why don’t you come be warm inside? I’ll even chase Xiao out of the shadowy corner for you.”

The two stared at each other. Then:

“Fine, fine,”Kaeya said, straightening up. “I was just taking a break from the noise.”

Paimon glanced down the street, saw Albedo and Kazuha, and waved. “Come on, you two. Lumine saved you some dinner. We got fresh supplies from the teapot!”

“Oh good,” said Albedo. “Tubby is doing well.”

“It’s totally a party now,” Paimon said happily, as they joined her. “Everybody’s in there but us, even Xiao and Kage.”

Joining them, Kaeya said, “Uh-oh, maybe we should let Xiao keep the shady corner.” 

But when they got inside, Xiao was sitting on the floor across from Klee, a chessboard between them. Once Klee saw them, she stopped carefully placing pieces and ran over to tell Albedo all about how she was going to teach Master Yaksha how to play just like her mom taught her.

Albedo’s brow furrowed as he looked across the large room at Xiao. The yaksha remained expressionless as he met Albedo’s gaze. “It’s kind of him to agree to play with you…”

Klee’s smile spread across her face. “He asked me to teach him!”

At a complete loss, Albedo said blankly, “Well, don’t keep him waiting.”

Kazuha chuckled as Klee happily skipped back to Xiao. “It looks like some card games are assembling. Perhaps Xiao chose this to avoid being drawn into a bigger game.”

“Ah,” said Albedo. “Perhaps so.” He clearly had very little interest in entertainment at the moment.

Dainsleif moved to greet them. “Xingqiu is organizing a bluffing card game he calls Cheat. I’m wary, personally, and Mona has asked me to come up with an alternative where she won’t, ah, ‘ruin the fun.’ I thought a game of skill and calculation might work. You three can join us. Paimon, Lumine is expecting you.”

“Of course,” said Kazuha promptly.

Lumine was in fact waving cheerfully at Paimon, so Paimon said, “Whoops, be right there. Kaeya, kick their butts.”

Without saying anything, Kaeya watched her fly over to Lumine. Then his gaze moved to Mona, who was trying to lurk behind Dainsleif and failing miserably. He said, “Sure, I’ll play.”

“Hmph,” said Mona, but she focused on Albedo, her gaze intent. 

The alchemist stared at the ground for a moment before saying, “All right, I’ll give it a try.”

Xingqiu’s group carved out a place amidst the pillows and bedding in the sleeping area, while Xiao and Klee played quietly near the shadowy corner, aided by a lamp Albedo created. At the table, Dainsleif taught the rest of them the basics of a complicated trick-taking game, and then ruthlessly beat them all in a practice hand despite stacking the deck against himself. After that, he distributed amber toothpicks to the group, reserving only two for himself. 

“These are your points. They can be spent in a few ways, but the most common and important one is continued survival within the game, even when things go poorly. There’s several variants, but we’ll keep it simple tonight.”

Mona sniffed. “I see we each have seven, while you’ve given yourself only two.”

“Ah,” said Albedo. “A handicapping mechanism. Interesting.”

“When I’ve lost my points, perhaps we can step up to an intermediate complexity,” said Dainsleif blandly.

Kaeya drawled, “You never were very popular at parties, were you, Dain?”

“That depended entirely on the kind of party.” Looking up from shuffling, Dainsleif flicked his gaze over Kaeya, up and down. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, if this is too much for you, say the word.”  

Holding up his hands, Kaeya said, “Hey, I’m just saying you could afford to be a little more subtle about your utter lack of respect for us.”

“But doing that would be entirely counterproductive,” Dainsleif replied, dealing out the first hand.

“See, I just knew you were going to say that,” Kaeya said accusingly. “I knew you’d have some ‘reason’.” His voice contained air quotes.

“Yes, I wanted a challenge. Now pick up your hand and try, if you can, to defeat me.”

As they played, shrieks emerged from the other group n the sleeping area, and Paimon’s cackle of triumph was the loudest of all. Rapid, nearly incoherent arguments broke out between Xingqiu, Hu Tao and whoever else they could rope in. Zielle was repeatedly used as a bellwether despite her earnest attempts to keep her facial expressions under control. Lumine baited the others repeatedly into ridiculous claims, and then laughed as much as Paimon when she was exposed.

Outside, the rain tapped insistently against the walls and skylight cover, a steady rhythm that should have been soothing but also muffled the sound of anything else beyond the walls. Occasionally, a gust of wind would rattle the shutters, and the Fireheart’s floating lights flickered intermittently despite being shielded from the storm.

The game at the table was meant to be a game of skill and calculation, not reading the others, and Kazuha thought he’d enjoy playing it that way against members of the other group. But he had no qualms about recognizing that, at the current table, he was completely outclassed. So he used his personal gifts to guess at the strategies of the others as long as he could, and then went down gracefully, offering himself as a learning example for the others. He was just as happy to return to the role of observer, deriving the same pleasure from watching the play as the other four did from taking tricks and winning hands.

True thunder reverberated through the walls, a low growl that felt much closer than the Great Storm. The rain intensified, slashing against the building in waves, as if the storm outside were growing impatient.

Mona went out next, due to Dainsleif’s unexpectedly aggressive persecution. Kazuha was surprised; the sword-master had never given the impression of being cruel, and Mona was clearly taken aback by Dainsleif’s focus on driving her out of the game. But as the game progressed, Kazuha thought he understood. Mona had been startled, but prosaic about her loss. But Albedo responded to the attack on his friend by calmly making Dainsleif his own target. His gameplay improved notably within several hands, until Dainsleif finally had to toss in his first point. 

Kaeya played quietly, without interfering in Albedo’s revenge, but he paid sharp attention to the various strategies both the other men used. While Albedo took Dainsleif’s second point, it was Kaeya who won the hand that knocked Dain out of the game.

“Well done,” said Dainsleif, leaning back and stretching his fingers. “There are a few extra mechanics in two-player hands, to keep things interesting. I’ll teach them to you now.”

Kaeya gathered up the deck and began to shuffle it. “And now it all makes sense. Go for it.”

Albedo said nothing, but his unreadable gaze remained fixed on Dainsleif. Without acknowledging the stare, Dainsleif concisely took them through the complications and then sat back to watch, with apparently deep interest.

It didn’t end as quickly as Kazuha half-expected. Once he was Albedo’s only opponent, Kaeya seemed to wake up. He made decisions that surprised Albedo while making Dainsleif nod in recognition. There came a moment where Kazuha saw hesitation in Albedo’s gameplay and wondered if this had become a rematch of whatever had happened in Albedo’s dream cells.

But it felt different, although Kazuha couldn’t say how he knew that. Before the dream-cells, Kaeya’s interactions around and with Albedo had been infused with a wry affection. That was gone now, just like the rest of Kaeya’s warmth. Instead, he played absolutely ruthlessly, and Albedo responded to it by first losing his hesitance and then proceeding to crush his final opponent as methodically as he’d defeated Dainsleif.

After that final hand, Kaeya leaned back. “All right, now I can forgive you for always holding back in sword drills.”

“That was a good game,” said Albedo, stacking the cards. “I’d be happy to play again. Is there an advanced version?”

Watching him, Kazuha thought that the alchemist wasn’t simply being polite. He was far more relaxed than he’d been the night before. Although he’d flinched in the beginning from the laughter of the other group, that had faded as the game progressed. And when Klee had come to visit when Xiao had begged a brief break from her version of chess, Albedo had boosted her into his lap and made her giggle with his silly description of the gameplay. He’d gotten a point off Kaeya that way, too, before Dainsleif had sent his ‘cheat code’ back to Xiao again.

Now Dainsleif accepted the deck from Albedo as he said, “Indeed there is. In the advanced version, we defeated work together to destroy you. Perhaps teamwork can succeed where individual effort failed.”

Albedo’s eyes widened briefly before he said composedly, “That sounds interesting. I’d like to give it a try.”

Kaeya said sardonically, “Of course you would. Well, I’m game. I think we can still surprise you.”

Mona shot a sidelong glance at Kazuha, as if trying to determine his reaction. He gave her a reassuring smile and added, “I would too. I think I can contribute a little more this time. That is, if the rules aren’t changing too much.”

 “Mona?” asked Dainsleif, reshuffling the cards. “Will you be joining us, or would you prefer to sit on the sidelines and observe?”

“Come on, Mona,” wheedled Kaeya. “Join the fun.”

After skeptically regarding first Kaeya and then Albedo for a moment, Mona huffed out a sigh. “Yes, I’ll play.” Then she muttered under her breath, “Fun? But I’ve watched quite enough, thank you.”

Dainsleif smiled, but said only, “ All right, let’s get started. To start with, Albedo gets all the points…”

As Dainsleif explained and play began, a hint of Albedo’s long-missing satisfied little smile began to show, if only in his eyes. Although slowly, he really was beginning to enjoy himself, and Kazuha felt a sense of warmth settle over him. It had been too long since he’d been able to take pleasure in the camaraderie of his traveling companions. Although the storm was loud outside, he had solid walls and a dry roof protecting him from the weather. Within, light and laughter surrounded him. It had been another long day, but he was delighted to stay at the table as long as the others wanted, cherishing the sense of normalcy the expedition had finally, finally reclaimed.

[sleepyselkiesims]

Part 45

The time for toddler cuteness was reaching it's end for this particular legacy generation. Tragic as that was, at least it wouldn't be the strangeness of having all teens and adults...

For the first time in Snow White's life, a huge storm was attacking Henford-on-Bagley! Everyone was absolutely terrified as thunder boomed and lightning crashed. How festive.

Gasp! Oh no, my toddler is a genius!

Half the family had just awoken from nightmares when they gathered in the kitchen for a birthday dance party.

Snow Jr. was completely unbothered. Wish I could sleep like that.

First up was Moss! Sorry it's such a panic-inducing day.

Woah woah woah!! Snow what the plumbob are you doing?!?!?!

Lookit how upset he is! How could you do this to him???

Wow, ok....

How could Snow be so cruel, when even the older sims in the house were freaking out??

Attina! You're gonna scare the toddlers on their first day of childhood!

Attina opted to sit out the rest of the party, using homework as an excuse. Even though, y'know, she can't see without her glasses.

Oak and Lark were terrified of mom dumping them out in the storm as well, but the birthday candles must be wished upon.

Ok Snow, he blew out the candles, now just set him down inside...

Girl. Why.

As Oak scampered back inside, Moss made his way back out, still unaged. He'd gotten out of the rain first thing, but apparently couldn't age up indoors??

Well, he made it in the end. Poor guy.

Sage was unbothered. Thriving.

Ok, last toddler ever. Let's hope she gets through the storm quickly at least.

Oh, Lark gets to be put down inside?!?! What kind of sick game are you playing, Snow?!?

Furious at the unfair treatment, Lark immediately marched out the door.

Ah, like her older sibling I see.

Oh? Going even further than Attina had? Ok...

Oak hadn't managed to age up indoors either. No one was pleased with this.

Oop, she's still going.

Aw man, someone ate the cake! RIP Strawberry cake; you were older than some of the kids.

Lark is stiiiiiiill going....

Aha, there we go! Man, that was a huge walk to age up!

Gasp, oh no, it's like you spent ages walking around in a giant storm.

[2n2n]

What's your theory about what the twins' mother was like after she claimed he wasn't the real Tsukasa? Do you think she abused Tsukasa or just didn't pay attention to him and was strict with him? We know well that she firmly believed he wasn't the real Tsukasa, so I doubt that despite the priests saying there was nothing wrong with him, she just forgot about it. I have a feeling she must have broken up the family because I'm sure she looked crazy to others.

well, Tanabata happens, and Tsukasa is simply there, and is not visibly harmed at the least-- he is apparently permitted to go out, and Amane himself is not too defensive of him, or acting like he's hiding a secret or anything. He has a nice matching Yukata with Amane, which must have been bought by someone (papa? Amane's own lunch money?), so there is that. In the other shots we see of them, Tsukasa is engaging in life like Amane. Tempering the impressions with this, while understanding the home life can be anything in terms of treatment... I would sooner suggest neglect than 'abuse'.

There's honestly too many possibilities, anything could be true. It could be that the Yugi's mother is sent away for some time under assumption of mental health problems, and their dad raises them alone for a period of years (and who knows, maybe she returns to the household only around middle school). Those perceived as ill would generally as far as I've read, been medicated into complete placidity and kept indoors by the family effectively quarantined out from society OR in a facility, so it could be that their mom is neutralized in that way. Or maybe she just went, I Do Not See It and went on not interacting with Tsukasa, or maybe she devised some superstitions to work around him, who knows.

I do suspect she caused the family to be broken up-- or rather, the family broke up around the issue of Tsukasa. I'm under the impression that their dad is science/education aligned, and their mom is more tradition/spiritually aligned-- so I'm not sure how he'd handle a fixation on something superstitious…

In this way, if dad is aligned to sciences, he might favor Amane naturally, and want to push him towards certain careers, futures, procure him a telescope, that sort of thing. Amane seems very upset at the concept of the future … he rips up all those papers regarding the moon landing … I think maybe Amane was feeling as if he was being guided to abandoning Tsukasa, who he wouldn't have wanted to leave alone with the family. I always wonder if something about summer break was significant, since the shinjuu happens just before. The boys do not live to see another school festival....

If Tsukasa problems cause mom to become ill fit to raise children or anything suchas that, it could lead to Tsukasa being resented in the household, even by dad. If neglect set in, then all the more reason for Amane to step up as Tsukasa's only diligent ward, and all the more reason for him to see HIMSELF as Tsukasa's protector…. more attached, more responsible for him, eager to accept and forgive everything about him, even as nobody else wants to have anything to do with him, even as nobody wants to think of Tsukasa's future at all. It could be possible (for dad) to provide the bare minimum of a place to sleep + a fridge for the kids, while not really being present … it could be Amane taking up the mantle.

I wonder what happened to make Tsukasa go from seemingly passive to whatever is going on at 13. Maybe after dealing with mom, dad just doesn't want to deal with it-- stupid crazy family, lol. Checked out, done.

Whatever the case, always important to remember that nobody is treating Amane's wounds, and nobody is reporting whatever is going on to injure him so. At the very least, at some point, NEITHER parent seems to care what is happening between the Yugi, and BOTH appear neglected. Were it not for Tsuchigomori, the wounds would not even be covered or cleaned.

Just my thoughts, though.

[thedaveandkimmershow]

It's just a cool photograph, is all.

The kind you see in music magazines or the biography of a famous band.

That's Linzy across the stage to the right on keys, by the way. 😊

She had quite the weekend, did Linzy. One of the bands she's in, Midnight High, for which she handles keys and vocal harmonies, performed in Carnation Friday night for the official launch event in anticipation of Timberfest, the Pacific NW outdoor music festival that arrives in July and at which they'll also perform. 🌲🌲🌲

The next night, Saturday night, she performed with The Little Lies, the Fleetwood Mac tribute band for which she handles keys, acoustic guitar, and Christine McVie's vocals.

The band performed at The Spanish Ballroom in Tacoma, opening for Queen Mother, the Queen Tribute band, at an all-ages celebration, an absolute dream of a night for fans of Classic Rock.

And their kids, apparently. 🤔

There were girls down near the front of the stage by Linzy who really took a shine to everything Linzy was doing, being even more amazed as she set keys aside and whipped out her acoustic guitar.

Future musicians, perhaps?

That would be pretty cool if they took that kind of inspiration from one great show. ❤️

Now, The Little Lies have played for larger audiences than the one at the Spanish Ballroom. The maximum capacity of the venue is 700 people and it was a sold-out show that night.

There's a difference, though, between playing outdoor concerts to thousands and playing to that 700 packed from back to front right up to the lip of the stage.

Indoors.

The energy's crazy in a way you can't help but feel. 🤯🤯🤯

After the show, the headliner, Queen Mother, asked if the band would be down to open for them again.

Linzy asked her band leader if it was because Queen Mother liked their show.

Truth is, they liked how The Little Lies helped them sell out the venue.

Which is a very good reputation to have. 😁😁😁

So yeah. Linzy sent me a snap of The Little Lies in performing mode at The Spanish Ballroom Saturday night. I half forgot that's she and her bandmates up there. It's just a cool photograph, is all.

And when you're there the experience blows you away in exactly that way you get in big arena shows with major artists.

It really is a helluva thing.

🤔🤯😊😁☺️

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (716): Sat 2nd Mar 2024

After work I headed over to Roker on my bike for a reunion with Kingy and Dexter for the first time since December when we set up our own Gay Pride festival because we couldn't wait a whole six months for the proper one in June and had to be hospitalized with hypothermia because our outfit choices of hot-pants and nipple tassels provided insufficient protection against the snowstorm. It was nice to catch up with these two mad heads after so long. Back in 2009 I never thought it would ever get to the stage where we would need to have a catch up to see what we'd all been up to because we were hitting the town nearly every week and so Kingy and Dexter already knew what I had been up to…I'd been getting shitfaced...with them. As soon as I got there Dexter asked to see my Bottom tattoo and I pretended to unbuckle my trousers and he shouted "NO NOT THAT BOTTOM YOU DAFT CUNT!". The evening mainly consisted of Kingy looking on the internet for things he couldn't remember. For instance at one point he couldn't remember a line that The Rock apparently once said in a promo and feverishly combed every clip of him on YouTube in order to figure out what it was. The only time I've ever seen anyone more determined than Kingy was to remember this line is in the movie 127 Hours where the guy tries everything to get his arm unstuck from the boulder even if if means cutting it off. Dexter suggested that we should do a podcast which I would be up for but I predict that any podcast we put out would just be an hour of me and Dexter trying to move the conversation along and Kingy insisting we can't move on until he's remembered the name of the chocolate bar he used to eat at break time at school that was a bit like a Boost but wasn't a Boost. Dexter also told me that during COVID he spent time working as a carer for people with severe mental health issues and that one evening he was told that a patient had an axe in his room and was threatening to use it and that Dexter had to go and confiscate it from him. He said if the patient had tried to use the axe on him he would have had to take it off him and use it himself. He also said that if this happened he would have called me and Kingy to get us to help him move the body which to be fair would be easy because it would already be in pieces. Bizarrely and quite out of nowhere Dexter asked me and Kingy if we would rather have to contend with World War Three, a zombie apocalypse and an alien invasion. Dexter and I chose zombies quite quickly (mainly because Dexter already knows a guy with an axe) but Kingy was adamant that WW3 would be the easiest scenario to overcome because "once a zombie bites you, you're dead" and I had to point out to him that you wouldn't be able to overcome World War Three by staying indoors and waiting for the enemy to starve to death like you could during a zombie apocalypse. I was only supposed to pop over for a couple of hours but I ended up staying until half one in the morning. Time really flies when you're talking bollocks. It was great to finally see these two after so long and it was especially nice to discover that even though our lives have gone in very different directions we haven't really changed and deep down we are still the same lunatics we always have been and the Backwarders will never truly grow up.

[hi-intrepid-heroes]

Hi! I hope this isn’t bad to ask but I’m going to the Netherlands in a couple of weeks (first time traveling outside the US) and I was wondering if u have any recommendations on things to do/foods from the area I should try?

hi anon!

I've been thinking about this for a while, cause I wanted to give you some tips that aren't also in any google search, so here they are, sorted into an activity, food, and general tips to survive the country section (it's mostly focused on Amsterdam and Utrecht, cause that's where I have the most experience)

Under the cut cause I had a lot to say apparently

Activities:

In Amsterdam, I love the Hortus, which is a botanical garden dating from the 17th century! It's partly outside but there are several indoor parts that are really pretty!

This probably is in the google searches but the Amsterdam Light Festival is going on, and it's really fun. There's a walking route and boat tours, but you can also just keep your eyes open when moving through the city and spot the art works that way

The Hallen in Amsterdam is a really fun place to go if you want to do something a little more lowkey, there's a few cute stores, expositions, a market hall-style food place and a cinema, as well as some events that they host certain days!

I haven't done this myself but the Adam Tower (in Noord, so you can take the ferry from central station which is fun) has a lookout deck where you can see the whole city! There's a swing set where you can book a place to swing over the edge I think (Europe's highest swing let's go). My brother did this a few years ago and thought it was really fun!

If you like books Savannah Bay in Utrecht is one of my favs, one of the top bookstores I've ever been to in my life in general I think

When in Utrecht pls hit the Miffy stoplight, it takes 5 minutes and she's a national icon (it's literally just a stoplight with a Miffy figure and it's adorable)

This may not be worth it if you're only here for a short period of time but if you have a day where you want to escape the city, Dutch beaches are beautiful even in the winter! The practice of uitwaaien (lit. outblowing), or walking into the wind to feel more invigorated (specifically a winter thing and popular among the Dutch especially on Boxing Day or New Years Day), is really nice to do sometimes, and a beach walk can be nice for a change!

Food:

Stroopwafels are on every list BUT I'd specifically recommend getting a hot one somewhere, cause they're much better than the packaged ones! They sell them at outdoor markets and I'm sure there's also some stores that have them!

Everyone also always talks about hagelslag but I personally prefer vlokken, which is a similar concept but thinner so they're nice and crispy would recommend

If you want a quick lunch, Bagels & Beans is a small chain that's got places across the country, they have nice bagels and I have it on good authority the coffee's also good!

If you want to get takeaway food, I would highly recommend Surinamese food. These generally don't really have restaurants and the places I've been to haven't really differed in quality so I'd just pick a nearby one but you simply must eat roti (a dish popular across the Caribbean so not specifically Surinamese but delicious) it rules so hard

Editing this cause I just walked past an oliebollen stall and you should absolutely try one of those if you’re here on time they’re a traditional Dutch new years treat!

General tips:

Always look every way when crossing the street even if it's one-way cause bikes can and will come from everywhere

In a similar vein: some tourists think bike bells are rung simply for fun, they are not, they have the same function of a car horn! If you hear one please do get off the road lmao it'll save you a lot of cursing from the locals

Pretty much everyone here speaks English really well, but a general rule of thumb for non-English speaking countries is that it's really appreciated if you learn at least hello and thank you in the local language (hallo and dank je wel in Dutch)!

Finally, a request more than a tip: please don't rent a bike cause it's genuinely dangerous. 99% of tourists can't bike that well and even those that can aren't used to the type of traffic here, as it's incredibly chaotic because of all the bikes, and tourists on bikes are even less prepared for that than ones that are walking (I know it looks fun I get it but the amount of times I've almost gotten into an accident bc a tourist made a weird swerve is so high I just had to put this in)

I hope you have a lovely trip anon, enjoy!!! <3

[maleficarwarden]

ZevWarden week 2022 Day 7 – Seasons of the year (holidays, weather, etc.)

Pairing: Zevran/Nellan Surana (M/M), Rating: T, with suggestive flirting. Set post-origins, as Nellan and Zev travel around Thedas looking for adventures.

Summary: Zev is not used to the horrid mountain climate. Unluckily, his dear Warden is intent on going to a festival in a snow-covered village. Luckily, his fiance is a fire mage.

Read on ao3.

“So what is this festival supposed to be again?” Zev asked, raising his eyebrow, barely visible from under the hood he regrettably had to wear so as not to freeze his ears off in the harsh mountain climate they were in. And he thought Haven had been cold. Foolish, really.

“I think they called it Cheeseweek.” Nellan didn't seem affected at all, confidently leading them through the snow, not even wearing his gloves. Damn Fereldens and their resistance to the cold. “As far as I've been told, it's primarily about eating lots of pancakes and pastries made of or with cheese. And playing various games.”

“How curious,” Zev muttered, pulling his coat collar higher to hide from the cold a bit more. “And do you, perhaps, also know the meaning of the festival? And whether it would be considered an offence should we decide to spend it indoors with a fire going instead?”

“From what they've told me, it's about seeing the winter off and welcoming spring.” Nellan stopped and turned to Zev, his gaze almost annoyingly tender as he stepped to the assassin.

“May I point out that winter by no means seems gone yet?” He grumbled, freezing in place when the mage cupped his cheek gently. His hands were warm, though, and Zev leaned into the touch, cherishing the affection as much as the unexpected warmth. Nellan chuckled.

“That's why they need the festival. To show winter out like a guest overstaying their welcome.” He sighed. “I'm very curious about the festival, since it's not like any I've seen before. There are some games the locals like, apparently, and I want to see what they are. But I don't want to drag you along if you'd rather stay in the inn.”

Zev felt his heart soften. He covered Nellan's hand with his own, clad in a glove from the pair that his lover had given him within days of them meeting for the first time. Turning his face just enough to nuzzle into the mage's hand, he left a chaste kiss on his palm.

“I am sorry for complaining this much. It does sound interesting, amore, and I'd love to experience it with you. I am merely not accustomed to the cold, which is proving somewhat complicated. But  it is of no concern.”

“Perhaps, I can try and warm you up?” Nellan's playful expression was intriguing.

“What do you have in mind, my Warden?”

“Oh, just this,” with that, he was pulled into an open-mouthed kiss that could likely warm him up from the dead. He could swear that Nellan's tongue was hotter than usual, and a wave of heat went through his entire body as the kiss went on. He no longer felt cold; his fingers prickled with a far more familiar feeling of sweltering wind washing over him, reminiscent of his homeland. Only then did he realise that the warmth was accompanied by an underlying softness, an almost honeyed sweetness, that made its way all throughout his body. He inhaled sharply at the realisation of what was happening, kissing his beloved with more fervour, gripping the hand on his cheek.

When he pulled away, he didn't move far, giving Nellan the sweetest grin he was capable of.

“So this is one of the benefits of being engaged to a fire mage?” His partner laughed at that.

“One of them, yes. Feel better?”

“Certainly,” Zev leaned closer to kiss Nellan's cheek. “I've still not gotten used to how lovely your magic feels.”

He could swear there was a hint of a pleased blush colouring Nellan's face. Elated, Zev took the mage's hand off his face and left a kiss on his knuckles.

“So,” he spoke again, delighting to no end in his beloved's quiet giggle at the praise and the kiss, “shall we go and see what this festival is all about? Now that my nose is not in danger of freezing off, I am rather interested in finding out what games the locals have.”

“Thank you,” the mage smiled sweetly as he leaned in for a quick peck on the lips.

Nellan intertwined their fingers, lowering their hands, and stepped backwards with a grin, tugging Zev to follow. Not that the assassin had any other idea, happily following his beloved even when the man turned around and walked faster. That just made Zev pick up his pace to walk next to the mage.

The festival turned out to have more food than the village could reasonably eat. Zev particularly liked little griddle cakes said to be made with farmer's cheese. Nellan was a fan of sweet pancakes, stuffed with a filling of berries cooked down with some honey. The games turned out to primarily be for those looking for a partner, which they found out after the one of the games started without them even being invited. Perhaps there was something about feeding each other sweet treats, kissing regularly, and Nellan wearing an earring that looked like a regular ring on a chain, that gave them away as an engaged couple, although Zevran couldn't imagine how it would.

There was one game they were invited to participate in, though. After the first half a dozen games, where quite a few people paired up, thin firm breadsticks were handed out to couples, and they were supposed to bite on the breadstick from either side at the same time, not letting it fall or break. As someone explained, if a part of the breadstick fell, that meant the couple would have an “unhappy union,” and if it broke, the couple was destined to have many disagreements. While if their lips met over the breadstick, they could kiss on the spot, as that was supposed to mean that their union would be a happy and harmonious one.

Looking at Nellan's excited face as he listened to the rules, Zev knew they wouldn't sit that one out. But as long as it made his beloved happy, he was happy to participate.

Their eyes met as the breadstick was placed between them and they both bit on their respective ends. Nellan looked focused and determined, perhaps taking the game a little too seriously. Zev exhaled in amusement, both of them waiting for a signal.

Someone yelled, “Go!” Diligently, Zev focused on the game, barely noticing how both Nellan and he got to the middle of the breadstick. And then there were lips on his own, and he closed his eyes, kissing Nellan softly, enjoying the moment and not deepening the kiss.

There were cheers of the crowd, but they seemed far away, especially as Nellan's arm made it around Zev's waist, his other hand setting under the hood on the back of the assassin's neck. He, in turn, wrapped his arms around his beloved's shoulders, not minding the crowd growing louder.

Too soon for Zev's liking, Nellan pulled away, giving him a soft smile. He looked Zev deep in the eyes for a few moments, before clearing his throat and speaking.

“Thank you for coming to the festival with me. I never got to go to anything like this, growing up in the Circle and all, and this... this was special.”

Zev smiled at him gently.

“I am happy to go to as many festivals with you as you wish, amore mio.” He paused, looking at Nellan, before his smile grew into a smirk. “Especially if they have games like this one. Or, perhaps, dirty ones.”

Nellan laughed, leaning in for another brief kiss.

“I don't know about the festivals, but we can play a few of our own in our room. I've seen what I wanted of the festival, so...” The mage bit his lower lip, looking at Zev meaningfully.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let us head back now, amore, please.” He knew from Nellan's laugh that he would not be refused.

“Let's go then.”

Zev grinned to himself as they said their goodbyes to the locals, heading through the snow towards the inn they had a room in. Even with the atrociously cold weather, it had been a nice day, all things considered.

[a03bkdk]

no quirks bkdk fic rec list (p 2)

thirsty gay wingman fic by lalazee

((smut-14130-1/1))

Oct 11, 2019 "Thinkin abt besties-since-birth BkDk goin to college together, Dk begrudgingly bein Bkg's wingman w/chicks & lamenting his big gay crush. One nite, Bkg cant get laid, hes drunk in a shitty mood, so Dk propositions him, which turns into the best night ever & the WORST consequences."

My tweet got 366 likes & 66 reblogs, so that was more than enough reason to write about it.

romeo and romeo by supercrunch

((10473-1/1))

There’s a nasally howl from the neighbour’s place. Izuku looks up – it’s the very loud, very blond guy living in the unit opposite. They’re technically in separate blocks but their balconies are close enough they can see into each other’s living rooms. He’s dancing around in his pyjamas. Yodelling at the top of his lungs off-key, swinging his Pomeranian around by the armpits like a furry ragdoll. “You’re a dog! You’re a fluffy little yellow dog and you’re a pain in the ass but you’re still my favourite shit-stain, yeah!”

Izuku bursts out laughing. The neighbour’s head whips around. He yelps when he sees him, tossing the dog on the couch and scrambling out of view to hide in the hall.

Izuku drops the watering can and runs back inside to find his phone.Small Might: Guys. I've decided i have a crush on my neighbour.

(quarantine baking: a balcony romance)

mechanical bull by warschach

((smut-27573-1/1))

Katsuki has a track record of bad choices, it's a condition, but Izuku might be the one choice that's right.

battle of the bands by roadtripwithlucifer

((smut-168158-26/26))

'The rules are simple. Battle of the Bands. Local bands send in a single track to the radio station, and ten tracks are selected. Over the coming month, the songs play on the station and listeners vote on the top five. The top 5 play a live concert as part of a music festival, then the top 3 at a larger, indoor venue. The top two have the honor of opening on the first stop of All Might’s retirement tour – here. In Izuku’s home town. And finally, the winner gets the ultimate prize. Getting to spend the rest of the tour, forty cities, across the country as All Might’s opener. Three months. Same tour bus. Shoulder to shoulder with the greatest musicians the world has ever known.'Izuku Midoriya is a broke college student presented with the opportunity of a lifetime. But winning isn't gonna be easy, especially when one band's aggressive blonde frontman seems to be dead-set on making Izuku's life a living hell.

oh my god! they were roomates! by phatye

((smut-79108-57/57))

“Don’t go through my shit, and if there’s a tie on the door, then fuck off!” Katsuki growled. “...what?” he asked. Katsuki glared at him. “This is fucking college, and I plan on getting laid a lot! I don’t need some nerd cockblocking me! And what is with all the fucking toys here!” Katsuki had moved over to his shelves. “Are you a fucking child or something?!” This was not what he was expecting.

shades of blue by young_crone

((smut-22525-1/1))

Echoes filtered down the white hall as he descended the stairs toward the locker rooms, reverberating from the pool. A whistle, the sound of breaking water. He swiped the towel over his face, paused. The sliver of cerulean catching the sinking sun pouring through the skylights, the red and white lane buoys, the burn of chlorine.Izuku ran a hand through his curls, snagging on a knot. The clock on the wall reminded him how late it was. A minute wouldn't hurt. He worried his lip. Just a glimpse.

k-9 by warschach

((smut- 18304-1/1))

Izuku takes in a stray on one rainy night, except it's not a dog, it's a dog shifter who goes by the name, Katsuki. After the initial wave of panic and embarrassment, Izuku thinks his new pet/roommate is pretty cute.

sucker punch by warschach

((smut-41551-1/1))

But, whatever, Disney Boy over there was—

Prettying up real damn good that Katsuki got kind of distracted—totally understandable, like god those CGI pine eyes—and didn’t see the straight path he made for the metal trash bin in the center of the area until he was tipping forward and waist deep in discarded bottles, plates, balled up tissues sticky with he prayed was chocolate ice cream and nacho cheese.

Mina howled behind the gate. “Look, Katsuki returned to his home.”

(or Katsuki works security at Six Flags and moonlights as a derby dude and continuously looks uncool around Izuku)

may I take your order, dipshit? by supercrunch

((6373-1/1))

So, like, maybe Bakugou wasn’t really the best choice for this whole pizza delivery shindig.

(Midoriya in love, Bakugou in denial, and way, way too much cheese.

A BakuDeku romance in thirty minutes or less. )

raise me so high (your sins become my pedestal) by stardust_painter

((smut-10804-2/2))

After his boyfriend cheats on him, Izuku wants to do something stupid. The question is how stupid does he want to be.

The answer is very stupid apparently.

eye for an eye or whatever by tobiyos

((smut-4049-1/1))

“I’ll make it up to you!” Izuku says brightly, lifting his head from Katsuki’s lap.

Katsuki’s eyes narrow but he isn’t still pushing Izuku away so. Progress. “Fuck are you gonna do to make it up to me?”

“Hmm…” Izuku says quietly, tapping at his chin. “Oh! You’re still a virgin, right?”

Katsuki chokes on his own spit and promptly renews his efforts of pushing Izuku away by the forehead. “Fuck off,” he wheezes, “get out of my room.”

leap of faith by ladyofsnails

((28771-4/4))

Midoriya Izuku is just a random kid who loves art, analyzes everything, and is obsessed with the (in)famous hero Mighty Spider. He's got a loving mother, a great uncle, and maybe not too many friends that aren't those two but he's working on it.

And then a random cute boy shows up at his school, a spider bites him, he meets his hero under the worst possible conditions, and it all goes to hell. Now he's got villains on his tail, a promise to keep to a dead guy, and a washed-up hobo as his mentor.

Here goes nothing.

green is the warmest color by gloriousporpoise

((smut-12287-2/2))

“Woah, someone call the fire department,” Eijirou says, elbowing Katsuki squarely in the ribs. “That guy is smokin.’”

“I literally hate you.”

Here’s the thing, though. Eijirou’s a certified dumbass, but his current observation isn’t even a little bit wrong, much to Katsuki’s displeasure.

“Think you can get his number?”

Or, Bakugou is a painter without a muse.

you and i collide by ethereals

((smut-20442-9/9))

And not that Bakugou’s the type to sexualize a potentially dead body; especially one that he just accidentally murdered, but the man has some pretty solid DSL’s. He would hit it, with more than just his car.

OR

in which rich fratboy! bakugou is a badass who accidentally hits poor med student!izuku with his car and chaos ensues therefore.

97.6 FM by jamjars

((smut-32249-3/3))

Izuku can’t stop listening to the radio host with the deep voice who sounds like he’s stuck in 2010. It’s a harmless crush. That is until he starts calling into the show under the pseudonym Deku.

Or Radio Host! Baugou x Listener! Midoriya

give me that sweet love by xsxuxgxax

((smut-32768-9/9))

Things Katsuki needs to excel at: be hot, be clever and pretend to be nice, let Izuku kiss him publicly, let Izuku fuck him privately…

(sugar baby katsuki and sugar daddy izuku pretty much)

dance with me by astralchaos

((30161-10/10))

Mina pulled up a video of a young man, seemingly teen, dancing to a popular new hit, and Izuku felt his heart drop to his stomach. His skin prickled and felt clammy as he started sweating nervously, not daring to move or make a noise. His eyes were glued to the screen but he didn’t see anything – his brain was too busy going into overdrive and freaking out.

Because Mina was showing him a video of himself. The one he uploaded last night.

How on Earth did she find this? He had barely a few thousand views, he wasn’t popular, and it’s not like he was even any good, especially compared to her or Kacchan–

“That move was sexy as hell,” Kacchan said, and that was when Izuku realized that his childhood friend – his longtime crush – also leaned in to watch the video Mina was showing him.

puppies puppies by Esselle

((15491-2/2))

"So after doing all that," Katsuki says, "you're just going to settle here? Tatting up wannabe bad boys?"

"You think all guys who have a lot of tattoos are wannabes?" Midoriya asks, so smoothly that it throws Katsuki.

"Wh—no, I mean—maybe!" Katsuki says. "You'd know best, wouldn't you? Are you a bad boy?"

The words are out of his mouth before he even realizes it, and he regrets them immediately. There's a figurative list of things that one should never do, and probably high up on it is asking dark-haired sailors with ocean green eyes and black swirls of ink all across their barely concealed muscles if they are bad boys.

--

Katsuki thinks he has everything he needs in life: a successful pet shop, an occasionally reliable assistant, and the unconditional love of the twenty puppies he’s raising for adoption. But when the tattoo parlor next door hires Midoriya Izuku, a hot sailor with an affinity for dogs, it makes Katsuki wonder if he might need something more.

Like… a piece of that ass. Maybe. He’s figuring it the hell out as he goes.

im gonna make a part 3 later ergaegrggjnjuvuh

[tenspontaneite]

The Ceracurist (Chapter 3/?)

Even after these past months, she wasn’t yet used to it. Another Full Moon spent alone.

(Chapter length: 10.4k. ao3 link)

---

“Did you go to the game night?” Was Ethari’s first question when she called him the next day.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yes, Ethari.”

He looked delighted. “Did you make friends?”

She hesitated, thinking about it. “…Well, I did beat them all at Antiquitora,” she said eventually. “And you were right, they did appreciate that.” She paused, and added “I’m probably going back, I think.”

She spent the next ten minutes having details pried out of her so warmly and kindly it hardly felt like an interrogation at all. Ethari was good at that. Finally she secured her escape via the need to leave for training, and was farewelled with considerably less fretting than usual. When the call dropped, she was about to shut down the Sunbeam module entirely, but then-

New Contact Requests, said the alert in the corner. Rayla blinked, nonplussed, and opened it, already having a decent idea of what she’d find. Sure enough, there were three new requests from codes she recognised: Kazi, Nihatasi, and Callum. She lingered there for a while, feeling bizarrely overwhelmed, then finally accepted all three of them.

She didn’t linger by the computer, after that – she had training to get to. Rayla paused at the door to perform a final once-over of her armour, then grabbed her swords and left.

 ---

 Rayla stumbled back into her room in late afternoon, covered in about three different kinds of mud and her body aching all-over in the aftermath of prolonged exertion. She spent the next two hours with rigid discipline: cleaning herself, cleaning her armour, checking her weapons. She cooked unenthusiastically and ate, then finally felt justified in utter collapse. She landed face-first into her bed and fell asleep immediately.

Three hours later, she woke to a stirring of magic in her veins, prickling over her skin, all the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, and pushed herself up; every hint of soreness from training was completely gone. She turned her eyes to the window, staring at the Moon rising full and resplendent past the horizon. Something deep and instinctive in her delighted at the sight of it. But something else twisted, sharp with the pang of homesickness.

Even after these past months, she wasn’t yet used to it. Another Full Moon spent alone. She sighed, and tried not to think of the festivities that would surely be beginning back home. It was moonrise; Ethari and Runaan would be at the Circle by now. Had the dancing already started? With the Moon this high, it must have.

She stared unblinkingly out of the window, turning thoughts over and over in her head. It wasn’t right to be alone at Full Moon. It wasn’t right to spend it all indoors, either. She couldn’t do much about the first thing, but the second…

Silent, Rayla slipped outside. A few of her wingmates were out in the common room, chattering drunkenly with each other near the table. She blinked, slowly, and exhaled. When she passed, they didn’t see her; only started with surprise at the open and close of the door. She crept through the streets like a ghost, visiting each of the parks and training grounds in turn until she finally found one unoccupied: a small stand of well-kept trees, and a fountain that reflected the full body of the Moon in its burbling waters. It would do.

It was no Circle. There were no runes in the ground – nothing here that awaited the careful precision of the lunar dances, nothing that would light up at her passing. But it was better than nothing. Rayla pulled at the moonlight until she was nothing but shadows flickering in the shadows of the trees, and danced.

There were plenty of moondances that could be done alone, and she circled the fountain with all of them, one by one. A tracery of magic hummed in the air at her passing, whispers of light following her; magic summoned by her motions, without the guidance of a Circle’s shaping. Even formless and aimless, it was beautiful. So, for the pleasure of it, she spun through those motes of moonlight and held them flickering in the shadows of her skin; light and dark woven together.

When she was done, she felt…not joyous, maybe, or exhilarated, as a celebration back home might have left her. But she was satisfied. Calm, and a little less sad. With the Full Moon still high above her, its magic brimming in her veins, Rayla headed home once more.

She didn’t bother to hide herself this time, and when she came through the door and passed by the remaining wingmates still up and awake, they saw her perfectly well: skin night-dark, eyes glowing, the edges of her form blurring into the shadows. They were all of them Sunfire and Skywing, and went a little quiet as she went by them; she wondered if they’d ever seen one of her kind at Full Moon before. Somehow, she doubted it.

Finally, Rayla arrived at her door, disarmed its security, and closed it behind her. She sighed, standing for a moment in the moonlight through her window, and considered it. Sleep would be a lost cause for another few hours, probably. So, somewhat inevitably, she ended up checking the computer. Browsing the mageskein was probably the best way to kill a few hours, and it wasn’t like she had anything else to do, this time of night.

Except: her Sunbeam module was still on, humming inside its casing, and…when she looked, it had projected a few message alerts onto the screen. Hesitantly, she checked them.

One was from Ethari, wishing her a good Moon, and entreating her once again to visit a Circle for it. Somewhat belated, that. One was from Kazi, confirming the time of their rematch tomorrow, as well as the address. Nihatasi had sent another, packed with effusive praise for her gaming excellence, insistence that she return, and an offer to come by the house whenever she wanted. Rayla shook her head at that, reluctantly amused. It wasn’t as though she’d met many nomads before – not in a social setting, anyway – but so far, Nihatasi more than matched their reputation for being aggressively sociable.

The last message was from Callum, and she steadfastly pretended that she wasn’t any more interested in it than the rest. He’d cheerfully thanked her for coming to the game night, said he hoped she’d come again, and then made an inquiry about her gaming tastes. Did she play computer games? If so, which were her favourites?

With the slow, halting uncertainty of the socially awkward, Rayla responded to all of them except Ethari’s. Kazi’s was easy enough, she just had to say ‘thanks’ and ‘see you tomorrow’. The other two took more doing. To Nihatasi, she expressed her thanks, and her assurances that she intended to come to a game night again. She said nothing about the house visit. To Callum, she reiterated her intentions to return, and admitted that, yes, she did like computer games, but hadn’t had the opportunity to play many of them, for lack of the necessary modules or a computer with the right specifications.  

Given the hour, she certainly didn’t expect any response, so she switched active modules to the mageskein to start browsing. News headlines on the home site vied for her attention: something about the outcome of the latest Katolis-Evenere expedition into the wastelands; the most recent public appearance of the Dragon Prince with his esteemed parents; a gossip piece about some Katolian royal’s birthday. She checked the second one for images, and sure enough, there he was: the young prince Azymondias, still tiny in comparison to his queen mother…and, in the background, a few Dragonguard standing at the ready. Rayla spotted her parents and smiled. She clicked to transfer the picture through its Sunbeam link and waited.

The other module hummed, her computer making distressed noises as it attempted juggling the inputs of Sunbeam and Mageskein at once. The unit at home wouldn’t have had any trouble, but this one…she sighed, and waited, and was eventually rewarded when her Sunbeam successfully imported the image and displayed it full-fidelity, with all the depth and nuance of lighting that a flat picture could never convey. She filed it away, and was about to switch back, when she saw the alert.

A new message. At this hour? It had to be at least two in the morning by now, surely. She checked her clock to be sure, and, yep. 2:14am. She eyed the icon with consternation, then opened it.

Callum had responded. She stared, brow furrowing as she read. Hey, glad to hear back from you! He opened, cheerfully failing to acknowledge the fact that it was currently stupidly late. The rest of it was perfectly normal too; commiserating about her lack of access to proper computing, commenting that yeah, I didn’t get to play any EX games until I moved here, and you know what WX graphics are like, and which ones did you get to play? Any I’d know about?

Rayla reread its entirety several times, mildly flummoxed. At Full Moon her emotions were all closer to the surface than usual, so there was an undeniable thread of glee in her chest about this unexpected late-night contact, but…well, she was curious. In her limited experience with the ways of other students, the only reasons a non-Moonshadow would be up this late would be ‘partying’ or ‘insomnia’. Or ‘last-minute coursework’, but that was unlikely to apply when term was already over. So: You’re up late, she wrote, without thinking about it, and sent it back without responding to any of his actual questions. She’d begun composing a belated second message, but apparently Callum was a lot speedier with typing than she was.

Haha, yeah, I kind of lost track of time. Gaming, incidentally. She thought he must be used to significantly faster systems and transfer times than she was, because that was the entirety of that message, and then he sent another one: What about you? What are you doing up?

Rayla blinked, then settled herself a little more comfortably in her chair, since it seemed like, well. Like there might be a conversation happening, here. She brought the keyboard further forward. It’s Full Moon, she responded to him, a little dryly. Her computer took its sweet time about sending the message, as usual.

Oh. It is? After a pause, during which he presumably looked out of a window or something, he said Huh. So it is. Does it keep you awake?

She paused. Kind of, she wrote, slowly, and then wasn’t quite sure how much more to divulge. Eventually, she wrote It’s kind of hard to sleep through when it’s still high. I’ll be okay in a couple hours.

That must be so cool, he answered, which seemed a weird thing to say to a statement of Moon-induced insomnia. I’ve used artefacts to cast moon-magic before, but it must feel totally different when you’ve got the arcanum. What’s it like?

Rayla stared at her screen. She recalled the implications of him being a mage student, and was suddenly brimming with curiosity. I don’t know, I’m not a mage, she wrote, and then paused. Do you cast a lot of artefact magic, or was that a one-time thing?

She probably should have just outright asked about the mage student thing, rather than trying to be cagey about it. He probably wouldn’t have minded. Except, that turned out to be unnecessary, because the next thing he wrote, as if it were perfectly natural and unsurprising, was Well, I’m doing a thaumaturgy / thaumatology masters, so I definitely cast a lot of magic, yeah. Then, while she was still gawping at that, he followed it up with Listen, do you want to call?

What? She sent back, astonished, still in the middle of trying to process the concept of a human thaumaturgy student. She couldn’t quite get her head around it. How did that even work?

It’s okay if you don’t, he clarified. But your Sunbeam seems to have kind of a lot of connection lag, so it’d probably be faster to talk, you know?

Rayla was, in fact, using a fairly old edition of the Sunbeam module, which did have to establish a new connection for every individual message it sent and received. It was what was cheapest, and the lag was just…an unavoidable side-effect. She called more often than she messaged anyway, so it was rarely relevant. Except, apparently, now. It’s two in the morning, Callum, she sent to him, bewildered.

And we’re both awake, he pointed out, as if it was perfectly reasonable to call someone you’d only met twice before in the middle of the night.

Her first instinct, fuelled by bemusement and social anxiety, was to say no. Her second instinct was quick to the scene, with some very definite opinions about interacting with Callum, even at as weird an hour as this. She hesitated, wavering.

In the end, it was a glance at the Moon through the window that decided her. Rayla was emphatically not a mystical person, but even so, there were things that were deeply culturally ingrained. And one of those things was Full Moon is community time. Family, or friends, or a wider community – it didn’t really matter, but you weren’t supposed to be alone. This…probably counted.

Yeah, okay, she typed in the end, foot tapping under the desk with a frisson of tension. But only for a bit.

He didn’t waste any time about it, just sent the call request. Rayla took a quick moment to check she hadn’t made a mess of herself dancing, realised it was something of a moot point when everything attached to her was veiled in shadows, and finally accepted the call.

Callum’s room was startlingly brightly-lit when it appeared in the monitor, and it hurt her eyes a bit. She blinked rapidly, fighting the urge to squint, and glimpsed what looked like a well-appointed loft room with an unexpectedly dense population of easels. She could see at least three of them, most of which occupied by some sort of paper or canvas. She blinked, nonplussed, then steadfastly did not react when his face came into view. It moved around jarringly as he adjusted the lightcatcher, then finally settled.

He grinned at the screen, looking sleepy but in good enough humour, and said “Hey! Wow your room is dark.”

Rayla opened her mouth, closed it, then blinked. “Oh, right, your eyes,” she said, embarrassed. She generally only ever called her family, whose night vision was perfectly equal to hers. Humans, as well as most other elf races, were not nearly as well-suited for the dark. “Can you even see anything?”

“I can see your eyes,” he volunteered helpfully, looking amused. “They’re glowing. Really brightly, actually.”

“Yeah, that’s the Full Moon,” Rayla told him, already standing to go for the switch of the wall lamp over her desk. She’d never actually had cause to use it before, other than testing it when she first moved in, so the soft blue light it produced was almost wholly unfamiliar. “Is that better?” She asked, moving back to her chair.

“Well, I can actually see your room now, so-“ he started, then cut off abruptly as she settled back down in front of the lightcatcher. “Oh, wow,” he said instead as he stared at her, eyes wide.

Rayla ignored the self-conscious twinge in her stomach and frowned at him, folding her arms. “What?” she demanded.

He startled, as if only just realising what he’d said. “Oh. Um, sorry?” he attempted, weakly. “It’s just – I’ve never seen a Moonshadow elf all, er…” he waved expressively at her, contrite. “You know, Full Moon-ish?”

Oh. She eyed him, determined that he wasn’t messing with her, and relaxed a little. “What, not even in the Honour Games?” She asked, after a moment.

“Well, I mean, sometimes. But that’s usually in broad daylight, you know, and from a distance, and broadcasted.” He shrugged, a light dusting of pink rising in his cheeks, like he was embarrassed. “Kind of different to…” he nodded to her via the lightcatcher, smiling sheepishly.

“Suppose it is a tad different to a close-up Sunbeam call,” she conceded, lips twitching.

“I should’ve expected it, really, considering it’s full moon and everything,” he said ruefully. “Sorry, I’m not exactly at my brightest at two in the morning.”

Oh, that was right. It was the middle of the night. She squinted at him. “Then shouldn’t you be sleeping, instead of sunbeaming random Moonshadow elves?”

“Well, you’re up,” he said, as if this was a perfectly logical reason for him to be awake too. “And it’s not like I have to be up early.”

Lucky for him. She thought of the training and the Antiquitora rematch she had scheduled for the day, and suppressed a sigh. It was sometimes truly inconvenient to live in a mixed-race city that didn’t automatically expect the day after Full Moon (and the day of and before New Moon, of course) to be a rest day. “Wish I could say the same.”

He winced sympathetically. “Can you not cancel whatever it is?”

She opened her mouth to say no, stopped, and frowned. She hadn’t yet missed training even once. But…it wasn’t like attending every session was compulsory. And she did train three other times a week…and besides, a Sunday morning short session had never fallen on Full Moon recovery day before. “Probably, honestly,” she admitted. “My – uncle wouldn’t even tell me off for it. Moonshadow elves aren’t supposed to work the day after a Full Moon.”

“Because none of you can get to sleep the whole night?” He asked with interest, as if the cultural habits of her kind were genuinely intriguing to him. “Makes sense, I guess.”

Rayla huffed and shook her head. “Kinda. Mostly it’s because, traditionally, we’re supposed to spend moonrise to moonset with – family, or the community, or whatever. And we’re not much good for anything except collapsing once the Moon’s gone. So we all take the next day off.”

He blinked at her curiously, but if he wondered why she wasn’t currently out spending the Moon with her rightful community, he was tactful enough not to ask. “You should skip your thing, then. Whatever it is,” he determined, after a moment. “Get some actual sleep.”

“Says you,” Rayla said, wry. “You don’t even have a stupid magical reason to be up this late.”

“Does a technomantic game count as a stupid magical reason?” He grinned at her, his smile lopsided and full of humour. Her stomach did a weird flip-flop. “I mean. It is magical.”

Despite herself, she snorted. “And it is stupid,” she allowed, lips twitching. “As far as reasons to be sleep-deprived go, anyway.”

“Worth it,” he claimed, cheerfully. “I don’t have work till the afternoon anyway, so I’m fine.”

Rayla nodded at that, then a moment later actually recalled what his job was, and practically felt her face heating. Thank the Moon – literally – for her skin currently being too dark to show it.

He noticed some sort of reaction, though. Maybe her shoulders had hunched a bit. He tilted his head at her, a little rueful, and said “Yeah, er, about that. I wanted to apologise, for the others talking about it, yesterday? Couldn’t have been super comfortable.”

Abruptly hyper-aware of the weight and presence of her horns, Rayla did her best not to sink into the chair. “…It’s fine,” she muttered, embarrassed. “It’s not like you told them about it, they just guessed.”

“Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t tell them about who my customers were unless my customers said something about it first,” he assured her. “Not really professional, you know? We’re supposed to be confidential about it.” Suddenly, he smiled again. “Then again, it’s not like I usually end up meeting my customers at game night, so that part tends to be easier to manage.”

“Usually?” she asked dryly, ruthlessly suppressing the urge to lift her hands and hide her face behind them.

“No, yeah, you’re definitely the first time that’s happened,” he admitted. “It was kind of a surprise.”

She thought about how she’d reacted to seeing him appear through that door yesterday. “Just a tad.”

“A good one, though!” he claimed, cheerful. “It was nice to meet you properly.”

Rayla was tempted to say something along the lines of you know, where I come from, touching up someone’s horns is considerably more than a ‘proper’ meeting, but that was too mortifying to express, and he probably knew it anyway. She couldn’t imagine anyone becoming an experienced ceracurist without learning all the assorted implications that sort of thing had. “Even though I kicked your Archdragon across the board?” She questioned eventually, when she found her voice again.

“Even though you totally kicked my butt, yeah,” he agreed readily, looking far too pleased about it. “It was a great match. You’re crazy good at that game.”

An involuntary smile pulled at her lips. “Well, Kazi’s better,” she said, pleased despite herself. “They’d have had me easily, if they weren’t playing Ocean.”

He didn’t argue with her. Clearly, he understood the game plenty well enough to know the truth of that. “Still the second-best player I’ve met,” he insisted staunchly. “Is Antiquitora one of the computer games you said you did play? You must’ve put in some serious practice time.”

Rayla snorted. “I wish. No, the only games I ever actually got to play were on a gameship, just the one time, when I was…” she frowned, trying to remember. “Thirteen, maybe? Good long while ago.”

He perked up, expression brightening. “I love gameships,” he enthused. “There’s one that comes by Gullcrest twice a year, and I swear, all the students in the entire engineering department just disappear on board until it leaves. It’s crazy.” After a moment, he admitted “Well, to be fair, I disappear on board too, so, you know. It’s not like I can judge.”

She blinked, and leaned forwards. “What clan is the ship?” She asked, with considerable interest.

“It’s a joint management. Serat-Demani,” he said, watching her knowingly.

“Moon above,” she swore, and he grinned.

“Right?” Looking exceedingly pleased with her reaction, he took that as his cue to go into extensive, exacting detail about the wonders that a fully-stocked, state-of-the-art Demani entertainment airship had to offer. She listened raptly the entire time, interjecting with questions about the rates, the facilities, the games. If it was a Demani ship, it had to have Skycrawler, surely? What was it like? Was the gameplay everything it was said to be?

In the end, Rayla didn’t think she could really be blamed for losing track of time.

Callum was in the middle of enthusiastically praising Scion of Shadow, with particular attention to its unusually enjoyable stealth mechanics, when out of nowhere a yawn cracked through his sentence. He seemed fully ready to keep on talking once it was done, but Rayla sat up a little straighter, and for the first time in a while remembered that it was the middle of the night. She consulted her Moon-sense, and then the clock, and then buried her face in her hands.

He cut off mid-sentence, inquisitive. “What?”

“Callum, it’s nearly four in the morning,” she informed him, lowering her hands to stare at the clock, consumed with a baleful sense of having been betrayed by the passage of time.  “The sun’s probably not even far off rising.”

He blinked, looked to the side, then blinked again. “…Huh,” he observed, a little sheepish. “Yeah, that’s…later than I usually stay up.”

“It’s later than I usually stay up, even on Full Moons.” Technically true, for the ones she’d spent at university. At home, though…moonset was, after all, later than sunrise in summer. Full Moon celebrations usually concluded once everyone’s skin was back to normal, but not always.

Callum shot her a weird look, long and appraising, before he spoke. “You’re still all…Moon-shadowy, though.”

“That won’t stop for a while yet,” she informed him, and shook her head. “I can probably get to sleep by now, anyway. Or another hour off, at most. You…” For a moment, she inspected him, spotting the signs of tiredness in his bearing. “You won’t have that problem, I think. You look knackered.”

He offered a rueful smile. “I’ll probably pass out the second I lay down, yeah,” he admitted. “I kind of lost track of time. Again.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Well, I’ll just go now, then, so you can’t get distracted again.”

Hastily, he sat bolt upright. “But there was something I wanted to-“

“Tomorrow,” she told him, firmly. “Or…today, technically. Later, anyway. Whatever it is can wait.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, then smiled sleepily at her. It looked far more endearing than it had any right to. “Well, okay then.”

Rayla nodded to him, said “Thanks,” then leaned in and shut the call down without a further word. Sunbeam’s active connection died down, Callum’s face disappearing from the screen, and she leaned back in her chair to fix the ceiling with a long-suffering stare.

On one hand, Ethari would’ve probably been delighted to hear she’d spent a couple hours of her Full Moon socialising, as a proper Moonshadow elf ought to. But on the other….Ethari could absolutely never, ever find out about this. If he knew she’d been up chatting with someone, losing track of time, for actual hours…she’d never hear the end of it. To say nothing of how he’d react if he got wind that she – that she might sort of-

“Ugh,” Rayla grumbled to herself, wiping a hand over her face.

She stared at the ceiling for a good long while, experiencing a variety of emotions that she wasn’t keen on thinking about too hard. She also spent a not inconsiderable amount of time thinking about the conversation, running it over in her head, thoughts stubbornly fixed on Callum. This was how she ended up realising that she’d never actually asked about the mage-student-thing, and she still had no idea how that worked.

“Ugh,” she said again, more emphatically, and finally left her chair. She left her room to perform some necessary ablutions in the bathroom she shared with the next room over, then returned to draw the curtains. Without the direct moonlight through her window, the magic in her skin started to stutter a little. In ten minutes or so, she’d be back to normal again…and, with luck, she might be asleep by then.

Begrudgingly, Rayla peeled herself out of her clothes and threw them haphazardly onto the floor, not even bothering to watch the magic desert them, and climbed into bed. A suboptimal amount of time later, she was asleep.

 ---

 “Goodness, you look tired,” said Kazi, welcoming Rayla in. Rayla, for her part, was a little too exhausted to feel particularly awkward, which was nice. “Was the Full Moon particularly trying?”

Rayla’s lips twitched. At least this one knew when Full Moon was. “No more than usual,” she said dryly, bending to remove her shoes when Kazi made noises about it. “Just, you know, getting enough sleep is kind of a lost cause.”

“Oh, I know the feeling. Or at least somewhat,” they commiserated, leading her through to a small and cosy-looking living room lined with bookshelves, and then through to a somewhat larger dining room, whose table was…occupied. Very thoroughly occupied. Rayla tried not to look at it too closely until she had a chance to inspect it properly. “There was a solar flare a few years ago, and of course I and the other Sunfire elves couldn’t sleep for days. It was quite the experience! And I’m sure you know how the Skywing elves get when there’s a particularly powerful storm abound.”

She had, in fact, had occasion to see what Skywing elves looked like when they were storm-drunk. It had been funny, up until it got annoying. “Probably more of a pain for them and you, really, since none of you take anything like moondust,” she volunteered after a moment, mouth turning up with wry sympathy. She’d hate to be a Skywing and be subject to random, unpredictable bouts of their equivalent of being moonstruck. “You all get the full effect of it.”

Kazi looked a little curious at that, but didn’t ask. “Yes, I suppose so. We should be thankful our magical overload is not so consistent as it is for you. In any case-“ they gestured towards the table. “Please take a seat wherever you prefer! Would you like any stimulants?”

Rayla blinked. “…Could you repeat that?”

“Tea,” they clarified, eyes merry with humour. “Or perhaps reveillant, or coffee, by your preference. I have all three, in some measure.”

For a moment she’d wondered if she was being offered something illegal, which…looking at Kazi, she was quite sure had been on purpose. She shook her head, reluctantly amused, and said “I could try some reveillant? I’ve only had it once.”

“It is not especially common, in a Skywing city like this,” Kazi allowed, already heading in the direction of one of the doorways. They kept speaking as they disappeared through it, still perfectly audible to her ears. “But I always keep a supply. It’s the only one that tastes particularly good cold, after all, unless you are very creative with your teas.” There was the sound of a cupboard opening, and then a good bit of rummaging.

During the wait, Rayla cautiously selected a seat at the table and settled there, finally letting her increasingly wide eyes rove over the board set up across it. She was still gawping conspicuously when Kazi returned, brandishing three brown paper packets of what she assumed to be reveillant.

“Do you prefer unflavoured, citrus, or mixed berry varieties?” they inquired mildly, hiding a smile when they saw her inspecting the board.

“Er, berry?” Rayla offered, only half paying attention. She was too busy looking at the intricate detail on the hand-carved and probably hideously valuable Antiquitora board. There were no pieces on it yet, but even just the tiles…it was astonishing. All of the terrain had been dyed and varnished in different colours, with careful attention to the different biomes. It all gleamed. The ocean tiles had even been coated in some kind of resin, making them look wet. The artisan had even mimicked the effect of the edge of an underwater continental shelf seen from above, with an area of lighter ‘water’ closer to the ‘coastline’.

“Berry it is,” Kazi said, sounding quite smug. Rayla didn’t have the chance to see what their face looked like, because they’d already disappeared back into what she assumed was the kitchen. She spent the next five minutes of beverage preparation time inspecting the game board with undisguised admiration. Rayla wasn’t one to usually pay much attention to art, but…this was game related art. It was different.

“The set you brought to the game night wasn’t your one set, then,” Rayla finally commented, when Kazi reappeared. She accepted her cup with exacting care, not wanting to risk a drink spillage near a board like this. She was honestly surprised Kazi allowed drinks so close to this thing.

Kazi smiled, disproportionately small for the amount of self-satisfaction in it. “Yes, it’s my more portable set,” they said pleasantly, and took a seat across the table from her, setting down their own glass. “This one…well, I certainly do not take it out of the house.”

“I can imagine,” she expressed, uncertain whether to be jealous of the board or just plain impressed. She wouldn’t even want something this pricey. She’d constantly be worrying about damaging it somehow. But, even so…the hint of avarice remained. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The various tile-pieces and figures are quite a sight themselves, I think,” they said, evidently extremely pleased with themself. Rayla wondered how many people they invited round for Antiquitora for the express purpose of showing off this set. “Have you decided your faction for today? Once we have that settled, we can begin setting up.”

Rayla snorted, lips turning up into a half-smirk. “Depends what you’re playing as.”

Kazi beamed back. “Do you have a preference? I am perfectly open to suggestions.”

She considered it. Allegedly, Kazi was most beastly when playing Earth or Sun. Rayla herself was best at Moon and Sky…and Sky was exceptionally poorly matched against Earth. Sun’s best counters were Earth and Ocean. Moon wasn’t great against Sun, but not terrible either. “Take Sun,” she decided, eventually. “I’ll do Moon. I want to see for myself how much you wipe the board with everyone when you get to play properly.”

If Kazi had been smiling before, they looked positively frightening now. Not that their smile had widened, or anything; they just seemed to have a way of looking disconcertingly menacing while beaming pleasantly at you. “I will do my best to arrange that,” they said, and reached for three boxes: Moon, Sun, and the tiles and dice and cards.

Setting up would have gone more quickly if not for Rayla’s interest in inspecting the various gamepieces, and Kazi’s interest in flaunting them. Most of the units, from citizens to mages, were all carved in beautifully varnished wood. The Hero and Archdragon figures, though… “Is that gemstone inlay?” Rayla asked with disbelief, inspecting her Lunar Archdragon and turning it this way and that.

“The Lunar Archdragon has mother-of-pearl inlay, in fact,” Kazi said pleasantly. “And, yes, some very small gemstones for the eyes.”

She shook her head at that, half-impressed, half in disbelief. “Where did you even get this?”

“It’s an heirloom,” they elaborated, which made sense. The only other way for someone to have a set like this would be by being ridiculously rich, or by knowing an insanely skilled craftself. “Hence why it has the standardised continent shape. It does need fairly careful maintenance, though. I paid to have some of the varnishing redone recently, for example. But for me, the joy of owning a set like this is well-worth the upkeep.”

Rayla nodded. It wasn’t her sort of thing, personally, but she understood well enough. “I bet you try to get people over to play you every chance you get,” she said, amused. “With a board like this…”

“It would be quite a shame otherwise, yes,” they agreed. “I must thank you for obliging me! This board so rarely sees a high-level game.”

She huffed, amused, and kept unpacking the gamepieces one-by-one. Kazi had to know that they were the better player. If she’d barely beaten them when they were playing Ocean and underestimating her for most of the game, she certainly wasn’t going to win now. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Eventually, when everything was set up, they rolled the starting conditions and began playing. Kazi very obviously knew what they were doing with the primary advantages of the Sun faction – agriculture, population, and military might – but Rayla was perfectly well acquainted with a proper Moon playstyle as well. She leaned into the espionage and intrigue skillset as heavily as she could manage, wreaking political strife in Kazi’s territory wherever she found an opening. When Kazi could find them, her units died; but that certainly wasn’t always.

Even so, the outcome was something of a foregone conclusion. The game lasted a while, because Rayla knew that her main defence against the Sun armies was if they couldn’t find the Moon cities, and planned accordingly…but Rayla hadn’t succeeded in assassinating the Archdragon, and hadn’t managed to get the Sun citizenry to demand a leadership duel either. So, unsurprisingly, Kazi eventually managed to field an assault that broke through the illusory barriers protecting Rayla’s stronghold, striking at her Archdragon precisely on the turn before New Moon. It died of its injuries the turn later.

Rayla considered the board carefully after that. Her best chances of winning against Sun would be crop poisoning, Archdragon assassinating, leadership disputes, or revolution. She’d managed the first and had been making decent headway on the latter two, but, in the end…it wasn’t close enough. She smiled ruefully, and said “Moon concedes.”

They nodded, having expected that, and smiled beatifically. “It was a marvellous game,” they said warmly, already reaching over to begin clearing the pieces. “Thank you very much for it.”

“I don’t know, it was a pretty solid victory for you.” Her voice was dry as she reached out to help, handling each of the intricately-carved figures with care. “You’re obviously the better player, here.”

“Yes,” they agreed, neither modestly nor boastfully, simply as the fact it was. “But nonetheless, you are certainly the best player I’ve encountered in-person in a very long time. Certainly the only one I didn’t arrange to meet with beforehand. It was a good game, no matter that you lost it.”

Rayla dipped her head, smiling a little. It wasn’t like she enjoyed losing…but she’d appreciated the challenge enough to make up for it. She’d ceased finding any sort of challenge back home a long, long time ago. “Yeah, it wasn’t bad.”

Kazi reached for another piece, paused, then eyed her consideringly. “Would you…like to discuss it?” they asked, tilting their head, watching her.

She glanced up, surprised. It was hardly an unfamiliar concept. She’d watched enough matches broadcast on Sunbeam to know how it went; when two top-tier players concluded a match, they talked about it afterwards. They discussed each other’s plays and strategies, pointed out mistakes, considered where there was room for improvement…

The only after-game discussions she’d ever had had been at Runaan’s knee, when she was still small and didn’t know the game nearly as well. It was weirdly flattering to be invited to do it now.

“…Yeah,” Rayla said, eventually, and sat back down. “I’d like that.”

Kazi beamed like the Sun they’d just used to trounce her. “Very good.”

The next half hour involved more talking than Rayla thought she’d done at a time in months…or, well, she would’ve said so, if not for last night. It was certainly a good second-place contender though, and by the end her voice was feeling a little tired from overuse. They concluded the discussion, packed away the gamepieces and board, and then were done.

“But of course, you must stay for another drink,” Kazi said, and whisked her empty glass of reveillant away. “You liked the berry infusion, yes? Excellent, I will get you another.” Good to their word, they did precisely that, and returned in short order.

Rayla did feel a little more awake, on that second glass of the reveillant. It was effective stuff; as much or more so than coffee, with (in her opinion) a considerably better taste. She was debating the merits of asking Kazi where they got it when they spoke up first.

“You’ll be returning, I hope?” they said, and it took Rayla a moment to think of what they meant.

“….Here?” she guessed. “For a rematch?”

“Well, yes, naturally.” Kazi pushed their glasses up, smiling a little. “I had assumed as much. But, no, I was referring to the game society. You’d be an excellent fit, I think.”

Rayla blinked. “Oh.” She thought of the previous night, and hunched down a little in embarrassment.

“I know it was only a very small group when you visited, but I have the impression you prefer that, anyway,” they said, neatly demonstrating that they were as unnervingly good at reading her as she’d sort of inferred. “It can get rowdier in term time – at least at the official meetings. The meet-ups at our houses are much calmer – usually just the core group.”

“Which is?” Rayla asked, a little reserved now, if only to disguise the fact that she really didn’t need convincing. She might have, after just the Friday. But after this…after yesterday…

“Myself, Callum, Nihatasi. Usually Pava, but often he spends the whole time tinkering instead of playing.” They shook their head, amused. “In term time – well, usually I’d say to expect Evairas, but he is spectacularly busy these days, so perhaps not.”

“…They sent messages,” she commented, after a moment. “Callum and Nihatasi, I mean. Pava didn’t.”

“Pava tends to forget Sunbeam exists for weeks at a time, don’t mind him,” Kazi assured her. “Nihatasi and Callum though, I’m not at all surprised. Nihatasi adores new people, and Callum…” they eyed her, just a little speculatively. “Well, I think you impressed him. Has he invited you to Tuesday, yet?”

Rayla blinked with consternation. “Invited me to what on Tuesday?”

“Game meeting, at the house,” they clarified. “It’s hardly an official thing, but it’s often Callum’s house that has everyone over. He hasn’t invited you over, yet? Well, he will. I am quite sure of it.”

For a long moment, she looked into her glass and the dark red liquid therein, pondering it as if it held all the answers for how she was supposed to respond. “If you say so,” she said, finally, and lifted her glass to drink.

“I do,” Kazi claimed serenely, and gracefully changed the topic to (naturally) more about Antiquitora. By the time Rayla finished her drink, she’d learned that Kazi played broadcast games online fairly regularly, under a handle that she recognised; she’d watched a good few of their games before.

“Is there a story behind that skein-name?” she asked, undeniably curious now that she was acquainted with the elf behind it. “’Finguistician’.”

Kazi laughed, like she’d surprised them. “Oh, that,” they said, mirthfully. “It’s something of an in-joke. You see, I have my doctorate in Linguistics – specifically, in non-verbal linguistics. Various sign languages, Draconic Corpus, and so on. I made a joke once, when I was still an undergraduate in a sign-language module, that the course should be called finguistics, given, well,” they waggled their fingers at her.

She snorted, amused. “Did it catch on?”

“Sadly, no. But I do call my sign language classes for the public ‘finguistics’, and no one can stop me, because I am the teacher.” They giggled a little to themself. “Perhaps in time it will become a more widely-used term. I would like that; it would be very amusing. In any case, that is where the handle comes from.”

Rayla thought, for a moment, about a moment from the game night: Kazi and Callum had used some sort of sign language with each other for a second, hadn’t they? She considered asking about it, wondering what his background in that was. Did he take any of Kazi’s lessons, or had he learned some other way?

In the end, she bit her tongue and said nothing. After a little more idle conversation, she eventually made her leave, farewelled at the door by her cheerful host. Without the game to bolster her, she swiftly began to really feel her exhaustion. Stimulants or not, she was so tired that a headache was starting to pound luridly behind her eyes, almost enough to make them water.

She headed home intending to collapse back into bed and nap – if the lingering effects of the drinks allowed her to, anyway. Which was why she was considerably displeased to arrive back to find her wing busy and full of noise and various elves milling about. The halls were crowded. She was about to say “What the fuck”, or perhaps “Shut up, do you know how bad my headache is right now”, but before she had the chance one of the closest elves (some wingmate she didn’t know the name of) spotted her and shouted down the hall “It’s her, she’s here, she’s not dead!”

All eyes went to her, and an immediate chattering started up. Rayla stared, utterly nonplussed, fighting the urge to pull on the Moon and take advantage of a state of near-invisibility to just retreat to her nice, privacy-sealed bedroom. The noise cancellation ought to take care of this racket.

After a few seconds, a face she actually had a name for pushed forwards. It was Stavian, a Skywing elf from her bellatorium, still in armour from training. “Rayla,” he said, sounding very relieved. “Thank goodness, we were about to call for an official search!”

Rayla had no idea what was happening. “What in Xadia’s name is going on here?” she demanded, finally, and her irate tone seemed to remind him that he (for some reason) customarily seemed to be quite intimidated by her. He shrank back a little, and as he did, a few of the rest of the Honour Games team started to appear.

“You didn’t show up for training!” he said, defensively. “And from anyone else that wouldn’t be much of a big deal, but you’ve never missed a day before. And then when we went to check on you afterwards you weren’t here.”

“And none of your wingmates knew where you were,” added one of her teammates: Fiera, a particularly tiny Skywing mage with hair and feathers dyed a distinctive lilac colour.

Rayla stared for a few more seconds, then wiped a hand over her face. “It was Full Moon,” she said, very slowly, her patience already somewhere on level with the floor. “I didn’t get to sleep till around five; of course I wasn’t going to go to morning training.” She ignored the fact that, if not for Callum, she absolutely would have. He’d been right; it was completely reasonable to miss training on a Full Moon rest day, and if they had a problem with that they could bite her.

The vast collective of people assembled in the halls all looked very embarrassed, suddenly. And honestly, they should be. Moonshadow elves were definitely uncommon in Gullcrest, but surely someone should have known it was Full Moon, and made the obvious conclusions. “Oh,” said Fiera, weakly. Her wings drooped a little. “That…makes sense.”

Now looking very abashed, Stavian echoed “Oh.” The crowd of assorted wingmates and guests, probably attracted by the initial hubbub, started to grumble and dissipate.

Rayla sighed, and rubbed at her eyes, attempting to scrounge some sort of positive emotion from beneath her absolute crankiness at being confronted with a noisy group of people when she was this sleep-deprived. “Look,” she attempted, tiredly, “It’s…nice you were worried. I didn’t realise anyone would be looking for me.” She searched for something appropriate to say. “I’ll…put a note on my door, if something like this comes up again?”

Her teammates, four of whom had shown up, nodded contritely. “Sorry for bothering you on a rest day,” offered another of them, starting to shove the others towards the door. “We’ll see you for training tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, I’ll be there,” Rayla looked longingly down the hallway, where her bed awaited. “I don’t exactly make a habit of missing training, you know.”

“Yeah, you’re very – dedicated,” Fiera said, in the tones of someone trying to be diplomatic, still being ushered doorwards. “Have a good rest day!” she called, right before the rest of them filed out and the wing became something approaching quiet again.

Too tired and too grumpy to have much emotional response to the whole thing, Rayla turned and headed down her hallway without a further word. The wing was still bustling, and it was more of a relief than usual to close her door on it; the privacy runes hummed lethargically as they activated, but the noise level outside cut off sharply enough that for once she didn’t mind their quality too much. They mostly did their job, and that was all she really needed.

It turned out that the effect of the reveillant couldn’t really complete with post-Full-Moon sleep deprivation; Rayla crawled into bed and fell asleep more or less instantly.

She woke some hours later, stirring at the sound of some computer module or other humming as it reactivated from idling. It wasn’t loud by any means, but she was quite sensitive to new or changing sounds in her vicinity, so it was enough. She blinked her eyes open, rubbing grit from their edges, and stumbled out of bed with a glance at the clock along the way. Moon-sense said it was late afternoon; the clock was a bit more specific about it, and said 6.33pm. The sky outside was still blue and light, but in that summer-evening way, where the sun had fallen low enough to cast long shadows between the city buildings. It was still bright enough to make her tired to look at.

There were new messages on her Sunbeam.

Rayla dropped into her desk chair and eyed the icon tiredly, uncertain if she was awake or rested enough to deal with any further social contact today. In the end she decided there probably wasn’t any harm in checking them, so…she looked. Kazi had thanked her for the game, and sent her some sort of invitation to make an account on…what looked to be the skeinsite that hosted the high-level Antiquitora broadcasts. She wasn’t sure what the purpose of that was, and didn’t have her head on sufficiently to figure it out, so she left it for later. Ethari had asked how her Full Moon had been. And…

She sighed, not sure whether to be pleased or embarrassed, because: Callum had left messages, too. Fairly recently, actually.

They read Hope you got to sleep okay, and how are you feeling? There was no mention of whatever he’d supposedly wanted to mention before the call ended, so he’d probably forgotten, or…something.

She debated whether or not to reply now. She found she was a little wary of…something. She wasn’t quite sure what. Making a fool of herself, maybe? She’d already spent nearly two very late-night hours sunbeaming him, and…that was already…well.

In the end, Rayla spent about five minutes trying to wrestle some semblance of reason past her sleep-mired brain, finally concluding that she was probably unlikely to come across as an infatuated idiot by responding to a couple of messages. Then, slowly, she picked at the keys to write back: Kind of knackered, but okay. While that one was processing, she hesitantly sent another: Just woke up from a nap. I think it helped?

She left the computer to visit the bathroom, tidying up her hair and washing her face with cold water. It did little to make her feel more alert, or to remove the weird muggy haze of exhaustion from her head, but it was better than nothing. She contemplated getting something to eat, but knew she wasn’t going to be up to cooking tonight. She went for one of her bottles of emergency moonberry elixir instead, which were so full of nutrients they probably counted as some kind of soup.

That in hand, she returned to her computer….and, somehow, wasn’t surprised to find that Callum had already replied. Was he just constantly glued to his computer, or what?

Well, at least it’s apparently traditional to be tired after full moon, I guess? He’d written, light-heartedly. At least you got a nap! Although it’s kind of late. Won’t you have trouble getting to sleep later?

Rayla shuffled forwards in her chair to respond. Nah. There’s a neat trick you can use to get to sleep at night if you’re a Moonshadow elf, and if it’s not Full Moon. Just need to shine a bright light in my face and I’ll be good. She hadn’t had to use it in a while, but she knew where the thing was: on her windowsill, to soak up sunlight during the day. It’d do the job just fine.

The pause in response seemed to be longer than connection lag would account for. That’s so weird, and cool, he marvelled, eventually. I just looked it up. They call them sun lamps?

Yep. Flash of sunlight in a dark place gets us sleepy pretty much every time. Moonshadow elves tended to be mostly diurnal by practice, but naturally, they all had the wiring for a nocturnal lifestyle. Bright sunlight in the eyes after being in the dark would usually trigger tiredness, even in elves perfectly used to going about in the daytime. Sun lamps were extraordinarily simple as far as enchanted objects went, but extraordinarily useful for Moonshadow elves with weird schedules.

What about if someone turns a light on in a dark room? He asked, apparently fascinated.

Nah. Has to be sunlight. It’s pretty specific.

That’s so cool, he reiterated, from that bizarre well of enthusiasm he seemed to have for banal magical elements of everyday life. Rayla waited to see if he’d write anything more, and after a moment, realised she’d started smiling. She wasn’t sure when that had happened. Eventually, he did send something else: I’d ask if you wanted to call again, but you should probably, you know, be getting actual sleep.

What Rayla intended to write then was something along the lines of, ‘yes, you’re entirely correct, I need to sleep for like twelve hours if I’m not going to be a useless wreck for training tomorrow’.

Instead, what she ending up sending was keep it half an hour or less, and you’re probably fine.

I’ll set a timer :) he typed, complete with smiley, which was something she’d never actually encountered outside of the mageskein before. And then he called her.

“How’s the light level?” she asked him, when the call resolved. It wasn’t yet far into sunset, so she thought there ought to be sufficient lighting in her room to see by, but who really knew with humans. She certainly didn’t know how bad their eyes were.

In his own room, Callum was bathed in the warm glow of the light through his windows, shaded the same pink-orange that she was. He was smiling, even as he pretended to squint exaggeratedly at her room. “Yeah, I can just about see,” he said, obviously teasing. “It’s not dark yet.” A pause, and he took a moment to look her over a little more directly. He was a little more concerned when he added “Are you sure it’s okay to be calling? You really do look tired.”

“I think I’ll survive half an hour, Callum,” she told him wryly, and one corner of his lips twitched upwards.

“Yeah, fair enough.” He hesitated for a moment, like he was summoning his nerve for something. “Listen – I wanted to ask before, yesterday, but – there’s going to be a sort of casual gaming night? At my house? On Tuesday. The others will be there. And my housemates, er, obviously.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry if it’s short notice, but – do you want to come?”

Rayla stared at him, half bemused by the offer itself, half at his apparent nervousness. “Kazi said you were going to invite me,” she said, a little too nonplussed to offer any more intelligent response. “I guess they were right.”

He blinked. “You’ve been talking to Kazi?” A pause. “No, wait, what am I saying, of course you’ve been talking to Kazi. There’s no way they’d let someone who beat them at Antiquitora get away.”

“We had a rematch today, actually,” Rayla admitted, lips twitching. “I let them take Sun. Naturally they destroyed me.”

“Ow,” Callum said, with feeling. “I’ve been on the receiving end of Kazi playing Sun before. It’s…” he searched for the words. “Really something.”

She smiled, remembering it. With a few hours separating her from the game, she realised she’d enjoyed the experience more than she’d anticipated. The discussion in particular had been welcome. “I’m just glad to be able to play someone new, honestly,” she confided. “Though it’d be nice to do it again when I’ve actually slept.” A second later, she remembered he’d had an almost equally dubious bedtime, and inspected him critically. He looked surprisingly okay, actually. A little tired, but not like he’d been up most of the night. “Did you sleep in late, or what?” She asked then, a little amused. “You don’t actually look tired.”

He laughed sheepishly. “Yeah, I didn’t wake up till around lunchtime,” he admitted. “I had to go to work after that, though.”

Rayla paused, still very unsure of how to respond to mentions of his work. “And…was that okay?” She asked at last, uncertainly.

“Yeah, actually. I had a pattern etching appointment, and those are some of my favourites,” he said, brightening. “This one wanted one of my new designs, too. It turned out great!”

She’d seen something about that on the posters in the waiting room, she thought. “That’d be the…buzzing patterns into the horns?” She asked, faintly.

“Mmhm. I use sort of a really small thin version of an electric buffer, and work the etching in that way,” he agreed. “I draw the design on first and follow the lines, and then after you can either just polish it up and leave it, or like, fill with metal or something. It takes a while, but, you know, that’s kind of just how art works.” He shrugged. “It looks great, anyway.”

Rayla thought of her looming appointment, maybe a week or so away, and found she was entirely unprepared for thinking about that. “You…seem to kind of do the art thing a lot?” she hazarded, as a distraction, nodding to the nearest easel. “Painting?”

He turned to look, then grinned back at her. “Yeah! I mean, art is…well, I probably draw more than I game, and that’s really saying something. I do all sorts, kinda. I’ll have to show you some of my sketchbooks sometime.” That seemed to remind him of the question she still hadn’t answered, and he abruptly looked nervous again. “So. Er. Um. About Tuesday…?”

She tried, very hard, to keep an even expression. “Er,” she managed, and then finally: “…Yeah. Sounds good? I’ll…be there.” Wherever ‘there’ was. She did have the address written down, but hadn’t actually tried to figure out where it was in the city yet.

Callum straightened up, brightening. “Really? That’s great!” A second later, he amended “It’ll be really nice to have someone new over! We’ll have food and stuff, too.”

She paused at that. “Should I bring anything?” Hospitality expectations tended to be very different depending on culture, so it merited the question.

“Nah. Well, if you want, you can bring snacks or food, but you don’t need to. We have loads.” A second later, he added ruefully “Kassa has some…pretty strong opinions about how fully-stocked a kitchen should be.”

“That’s one of your housemates?” she remembered.

“Yeah! Actually, I lived with Kassa and her mom for a few years before. They sort of hosted me, when I was…well, when I first came to Gullcrest.” He amended his sentence half-way through, as if realising he was about to say too much. She was intensely curious about that. “This house is her family property, too, so we don’t have to pay much on it. We moved in when Kassa started her undergrad.”

She blinked, filing that information away. This had something to do with the mystery of him doing a mage’s masters at the age of eighteen, she was sure of it, but… “What about your other housemates?”

“Nihatasi moved in because we had room and she was a friend,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Soren…” he hesitated. “Well, he’s a childhood friend of mine,” he settled on eventually. “So he came to study here, and he took the last spare room.”

Rayla eyed him, but didn’t question him on the obvious secrets clamouring behind his words. “Looks a lot roomier than usual student wings, at least,” she commented finally. “These rooms are pretty cramped. And the runework is pretty worn-down. My door makes this horrible droning noise every time the wards come on.”

He made an ‘oof’ sound. “I’ve visited student wings before. They’re…well, they’re okay. Definitely prefer this house though.” He eyed her curiously. “Is yours at least one of the ones where you get one bathroom between two people? Because I knew someone who only had one bathroom for twelve, and it was terrible.”

“That sounds disgusting,” she said, making a face. She could hardly imagine how terrible that would be, with how some of her wingmates were. “I’m so glad that’s not me.”

“So glad,” he agreed, and before she knew it, they were off on a weirdly engrossing conversation about the merits of student living compared to home life. He was pretty evasive about it, but she got the impression he’d been used to a fairly fancy home before he came to Gullcrest, and he’d been astonished at what student wings were like.

Rayla was in the middle of describing how chaotic move-in day had been, with so many elves hauling all their boxes of things in at once, when a shrill ringing started up from over Callum’s voicecatcher. He reached hastily to the side and disabled some sort of egg timer that had gone off, settling back into view with a sheepish smile.

“That was the timer,” he said, apologetically.

Half an hour, already. It was a little disconcerting how quickly it’d gone by. “I’d better try to turn in for an early night, then,” she offered, weirdly reluctant to hang up.

He hesitated a fair bit, too. “Probably a good idea,” he agreed, wry. “We can talk again later?” His tone went questioning, at that. A little hopeful.

Rayla resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. “…Yeah, sure,” she sighed, more and more exasperated with herself for just how much she wanted to talk to him.

Callum smiled again, the edges of him lit up from the light of the falling sun. “Later, then,” he said, and hesitated once again. Then he reached out, and the call disconnected. Sunbeam minimised to its idling overlay around the edges of her screen, the background of Silvergrove scenery back to the fore.

She sighed, and leaned back in her chair. Ruefully, she spend a while reflecting on exactly how in trouble she was. Then she did as a responsible elf on their Full Moon rest day ought, and went to attempt an early night.

She managed it almost as soon as it was dark enough for her magic rune-rock to work. Thank Xadia for sun lamps, honestly.

  ---

End chapter.

Yeah so this is basically completely unbetaed, even by me, because I’ve been frantically trying to churn out a complete chapter this week in time for the Modern AU day of rayllum month. There will be typos, there will be clunky sentences, that’s just what you get for a rush job. I’ll return to it and do some editing in the morning.

Re: the Antiquitora. ‘Would you like to discuss the game’ *hikago fandom origins vibes intensify*

  Worldbuilding notes for this chapter:

Moondances: specific ritual dances made to react with the runic Circles that Moonshadow elves use. The dancing is used as a form of spellcraft, to cast enchantments or strengthen the magic of a community. The Full Moon dances in Silvergrove for example are integral for keeping its magical defences running. (piaj)

EX and WX: East Xadian and West Xadia. A more modern and correct term for the human and elf/dragon sides of the continent, respectively.

Artefact magic: primal magic cast with a power source other than your own arcanum. E.g. a primal stone, a moon opal.

Thaumaturgy: the practice of magic casting.

Thaumatology: the study of magic.

Lightcatcher: magic camera, basically.

Voicecatcher: magic microphone, basically.

Honour Games: a fun sport :) more on this later.

Technomancy/technomantic: alternate proper term for magical engineering.

Antiquitora notes: while the game has been steadily gaining complexity over time, the game at its fundamentals is very old, and quite traditional. It’s considered a respectable strategy game, and Runaan certainly would have approved of Rayla showing an interest in it when she was younger. Modern variants tend to adopt features and ‘house rules’ that don’t strictly conform to traditional standards, though.

East Xadian computer games: though boasting dramatically better visuals and audio than human technology is currently capable of, the limitations of elven computing mean that computer games are extremely expensive, and difficult to integrate into lesser systems. Most elves will never be able to run the best gaming modules at home.

Nomad Gameships: Brevili nomads are well known for their magical engineering, and produce some of the most advanced technomantic games there are. Owing to the limited number of elves who can actually afford to buy them, they get creative with the marketing: many clans field airships whose sole purpose is travelling around as a sort of mobile arcade, landing at various destinations for a set amount of time, during which customers can pay for access to the many assorted games they have on offer. Demani, as the clan that (a good long while ago) invented the airship in the first place, boasts the most impressive facilities on their ships.

Skycrawler: a game so advanced and finicky that its developers haven’t yet figured out how to get it to run on less advanced systems than the gameships’ computers. There are a handful like these, usually the newest and most technomantically complex titles, and their release on gameships usually serves as something of a ‘beta’ build while they refine the technology for more accessible use. Imunaviga was one of these, and was very recently released for public purchase.

Imunaviga: as several commenters guessed, this is indeed a Subnautica expy. Rayla is not at all keen on the idea of playing it. I spent probably too much time working out the worldbuilding and plot for the elf AU version of this game. It was a lot of fun though.

Scion of Shadow: a well-regarded game with a Moonshadow elf protagonist, involving a lot of stealth gameplay, a highly-lauded storyline, and in-setting ‘fantasy’ elements; i.e. they’d be considered fantasy in this fantasy setting.

Magical overload states: Natural events that cause high levels of ambient primal magic can induce some very unusual effects in beings with the relevant arcana. Terms include ‘moonstruck’ for Moonshadow elves, ‘sunstruck’ for Sunfire, and ‘storm-drunk’ for Skywing. (piaj)

Moondust: a magic-dampening drug taken in different dosages based on the phase of the moon, to dampen the effect of the lunar cycle on Moonshadow elves’ bodies and minds. Not all Moonshadow elves take it, but most do. (piaj)

Reveillant: Sunfire elf beverage made from the dried berries of a shrub with stimulant properties. Some preparations are very strong and are restricted, but preparations from the berries are mild and very popular. (piaj)

Draconic Corpus: a sort of full-body sign language spoken by dragons incapable of complex vocal speech. Given this accounts for the majority of dragons, it’s generally useful to understand some of, even if bipeds are generally incapable of speaking it properly. (piaj)

[samkat10423]

Wraith

Well, yesterday I was nosing around over on Youtube, when I came across one of those world tour videos for the Sims 3. This one was by Cjplays - he’s a bit of a character! - and was about a little world called Wraith, by @quailhogs​. And sad to say, I had never heard of it before. But OMG!!!! People, you need to check this world out – if for no other reason than the snarky lot descriptions and family bios. I have spent the whole day going from lot to lot, laughing my ass off. Another Simmer with my dark sense of humor!!! I think I’m in love! BTW, since we are apparently not allowed to link other sites, if you want to check this out, he is on tumblebutt @quailhogs​.

Anyway, you guys know me. I can never leave a lot as is. No, I can’t. I’ve tried, but it’s just not in me. So I tackled a few, but only took pictures of this one. It’s his gym, and you have to used an unlock code to change stuff.

When you open this lot, only the middle section has anything in it. And only on 3 floors!!! Well, that’s just not right! I mean, I really, really hate wasted space. So….. I “fixed” it.

On the right side of the build, I added a bunch of “broken” windows to the 2 bottom floors – courtesy of cyclonesue – and made that space tiny coffee shop, using Sandy’s eco-café set. (In the original, there were no windows on those 2 levels, and I hate, hate, hate no windows. Well, I do.) I still have more work to do on this part - mostly adding pictures and such. But since this town is the gateway to Hell, it won’t be all that pretty. 

Then above it – in another hidden room – I made a small dance studio. I still need to age those seats and grunge up that record player.

On the left side of the build that ground floor is where he stuck his pool. But the 2 floors above it were hidden rooms. So, again, I “fixed” them.

On the 2nd floor, I made a small dojo. With a spot where Sims can meditate - if they’re into that sort of thing.

Then directly above it – on the same floor as the dance studio – I made a yoga studio – using Sandy’s yoga rugs from her beach set. That small “empty” space by the TV is where Sims can just work out if they want, using the TV.

Then on the top floor – another hidden room – I turned it into an indoor track and a tiny exercise area. I thought about making it a sauna/massage area, but I already had 2 saunas down where he put his showers. So I just put the one massage table here. And viola! Done. No more wasted space!

Then I hopped over to his Laundromat and changed things a bit – using Sandy’s Laundromat set. But I still have to do something about one whole side of the build that is nothing but hidden rooms. I’ll show you that in another post, since I’m not really sure what I want to do with it.

Also, he has that Plumbob studio lot in this town, and I’m not a real big fan of it. So, I’m thinking that I need to replace it with something. Maybe a festival lot from Hell. Could dress all the NPCs up as demons. Anyway, that’s for another day.

[lakelewisia]

A Lewisian Year

Presented in partnership with the Lewisia Communications Board and Lewisia Public Library

Sponsored by The Historical Society

Hello, readers, listeners, and psychic osmosizers! Welcome to A Lewisian Year, a monthly showcase celebrating the rich culture here in the Lake Lewisia district. Each month, we'll highlight some seasonal events, local celebrations and interpretations of national and world holidays, and historical tidbits.

OCTOBER

Lights on the Lake

You don't know for sure what brought you out to the lake, this cool and misty Halloween night. There are so many bright delights to be enjoyed in town, more festive settings than this stretch of pebbled shore. The moon, already set and no more than a sickle anyway, would do little to illuminate anything more than the glassy surface of the lake nearest to you. Farther out, even that fades into a wall of fog. You just knew, somehow, you were supposed to be here. And you aren't the only one: other people assemble on the shore in uncertain silence. You all look out across the lake, wondering why you are here.

You don't have to wait long. Something appears in the fog out on the water. Just a patch of brightness that could be no more than a particularly thick clump of mist, if it weren't for the way it slowly approaches the shore. It bobs a little as it comes--something is floating toward you. Several somethings, you realize, as more lights emerge from the fog. Soon, a whole flotilla of lights can be made out. And now, by their collective glow, you can see how they are traveling to you.

Each light rides within a pumpkin, a little ship of hollowed squash. Tiny Jack-Be-Littles, great lumpen Knuckleheads, frosty blue Jarrahdales. The ghostly white of Cotton Candy, and the iconic roundness of Baby Bear. Some pumpkins carry but a single ethereal light, while others are crowded with a dozen. They drift in a wobbly, uneven way, suitable for a squash attempting to cross a lake, and yet they also approach so quickly, you have hardly had a chance to look along the length of their assemblage before they are nearly to the shore.

Already, with the pumpkins still several yards out, people have begun to stumble into the water. In the dark on either side of you, some give little cries of recognition as they lurch forward. Others splash out to meet their pumpkin, their lights, in silences grim or reverent. In time, you too will realize which little harvest ship is yours. You too will wade out into the water, heedless of soaked shoes and heavy pant legs. Because you understand, now, in the dark and the mist, what the lights are. You know how far they've come to be here tonight.

It is Halloween, and your beloved dead have come out to see you again. The pumpkins ferry their little soul lights from the misty underworlds and afterlives they inhabit, on this night when such visitations are possible. I will not hazard a guess as to who has come for you this year, nor speculate about what messages they might bring. No matter how many assemble on the lakeshore in a given year, we all meet the lights alone.

Search and Rescue

As you make your way back through town, you watch the more mundane joys of Halloween, in all their glittery, sugar-stuffed glory: trick-or-treaters. Even before the night itself, there are harvest events all month to draw out crowds. It's easy to get lost in such a crowd. Easy for a group to get smaller by one or two people without anyone noticing right away. Easy for someone to get lured away from the group and the safety of the path when there are so many delights to look at.

When that happens, someone has to track them down. Enter the Lewisia Search and Rescue Collective, a loose association of public servants, private trackers, and independently operating animal guides. Given the unusual terrain of the Lewisia area, both physical and ethereal, it takes more than just a sniffer dog and an unwashed shirt to track down a missing person. The LSRC can handle everything from underwater searches (trained kingfishers and a pair of selkie sisters) to dimensional rift retrievals (several retired time travelers and the single skinniest, most disreputable- and ancient-looking black cat I have ever seen). They even have multiple successful faerie abduction recoveries in their history, but they declined to give any details about whom of their associates had handled those cases.

October sees more mysterious disappearances than any other month of the year in the greater Lewisia region. The town's ability to draw in outsiders raises the statistics for seventeen counties beyond its immediate reach as well. (Your humble host has spent a lot of time looking at microfiche records of missing person reports in the last month. A lot.)

Of course, a missing person isn't always a bad thing; a mysterious disappearance isn't always an involuntary one. Whether it's down to October's metaphysical properties, the changeable fall weather, or just the prospect of facing the coming winter cooped up somewhere, or with someone, you hate, this is the time of year when people make their escapes. Plenty of fairy rings are approached with clear eyes, rather than blundered into. Sometimes maw-like eldritch portals swallow a person AND the suitcase they packed ahead of time. Sometimes, a missing person does not need or want to be found. After all, sometimes those missing people end up here in Lewisia.

Mating and Migration

While we're on the subject of local population fluctuations, I have a repeated and intense reminder from Dr. Ben Langston in the Biology department of the community college regarding mating and migrating creatures this autumn:

If you encounter a local animal, cryptid, ambulatory plant, or other apparently non-rational life form, and it seems like it really wants to eat, breed with, or flee from you or anything else in the immediate area? Strongly consider getting out of its way.

This time of the year, several of our local species leave on their yearly migration to warmer climates in the south. Tawny unicorns and scorched-beak falcons have both already left us. Snowy púki and glass bats will likely be seen headed along their usual paths bordering the Briarwood district. These habits are driven by seasonal changes both obvious and subtle, written into the genetics of creatures and taught from one generation to the next.

It is a drive stronger than your desire to cross a particular road just then. It is an impulse older than your ideas about private yards and landscaping. Let them pass.

All of which is nothing compared to the mating impulse in some creatures. I don't think I need to explicate the mortal danger faced by anyone who gets between a bull moose and his paramour. And while Old Tommy, the goblin crane who lives out by Stoneheart Manor, is generally friendly with the public, that dance he's doing for the next month is not for your benefit, and you should consider using an extremely long lens if you feel compelled to capture his moves on film.

If anything should decide that you are, in fact, the intended subject of their amorous attentions, it is recommended that you seek shelter indoors. Cars are not the deterrent you might hope, except in cases of relatively small unwelcome suitors. A sturdy door and/or high fence will offer more protection until their interest turns elsewhere.

Of course, if you decide you quite fancy one of the human-compatible creatures currently seeking mates, we won't stand in your way. Advice and resources for negotiating an interspecies relationship and parenting any resulting hybrid children can be found through the library's life skills programming.

This Month in History

October 17, 1937 saw the first public distribution of the newly developed vaccine against Custler's Influenza, also known as Gothic flu. Symptoms of Gothic flu include paleness, wasting away, light aversion, mysterious billowing winds centered around the afflicted, and a compulsion to find moorland and cliffs on which to wander. Though not directly fatal, the impulses caused by the disease frequently lead to misadventure. Several of Lewisia's older architectural wonders are thought to have begun as visions of designers suffering from undiagnosed cases of Gothic flu, as the disease is also known to cause obsessions with houses.

Efforts to explore a vaccine or even study the disease had been hindered for years by the tendency of any laboratory setting to go moderately weird within six months of introducing live virus samples to the space. Teams of sensible researchers were assembled based on testing for resistance to romantic notions and delusions of grandeur. Special ultramodern workspaces had to be built, including numerous south-facing windows to counteract the dark and withdrawn tendencies brought on by proximity to the virus. Thanks to their efforts, Gothic flu is now a rare, and rarely life-altering, affliction that seldom does more than cause a temporary flare for flowing poet's shirts and antique literature.

That's a taste of what October has to offer us. See you next month, when November replaces werewolves with regular wolves, donates an hour, and once again brings a covered dish.

[postgradart]

Catching up on the Summer Studying Challenge, 1st-19th July

1st July - What are your plans for this summer?

To have a break from teaching, read as many books for my course and for pleasure as I can, and do some day trips around Wales.

2nd July - Do you have a specific goal for this summer?

To do as much as I can to prepare for the start of my PhD in October, before September, when I will be back teaching.

3rd July - Do you have a lot of work to do for school, university or your job this summer?

Not really, we haven’t started yet, and the book list is going to be out in September apparently, but I emailed the course tutor for suggestions on what to read, and she gave me some book recs.

I am starting a new permanent teaching position in September, so have nothing to do with work until then

4th July - What is the most important task that you need to complete this summer?

To read as much as possible, while recording any quotes and completing a bibliography

5th July -  Do you have any special plans or activities for this summer?

A small gathering (under six people) for my birthday, some day trips with my dog Griffin, and house setting for a week for my parents.

6th July - What do you usually do during the summer? Is anything different this year?

It's about the same really, expect normally I would go abroad for a week or two.

7th July - What did you do during the summer when you were a young child?

My birthday is in the summer holidays, so i always celebrated that with my family, and we went away somewhere.

8th July - What’s your happiest summer memory from your childhood?

Properly going on walks in the mountains, when my dad was off from work

9th July - Do you usually go on vacation during the summer?

Yes

10th July - What is the best vacation you have ever been on? (note: doesn’t have to be a summer vacation)

Probably Paris with my primary school or Barcelona in college.

11th July - What is your favourite vacation memory?

First holiday with my stepsisters, where the three of us shared an apartment in Benidorm.

12th July - What is the worst vacation you have ever been on?

Probably Amsterdam, but that was more to do with the people than anything to do with the city

13th July - What is your dream vacation?

Athens and Delphi in Greece

14th July - Would you rather stay in one resort for a month or travel across the country for one month?

Travel across the country

15th July - Are there any special events for you in the summer? (for example, birthdays, festivals, etc.)

My birthday, my stepfathers' birthday, my grandpa’s, and my dad’s birthday

16th July - Do you have any summer traditions?

Planting flowers and climbing Pen Y Fan

17th July - What is your typical daily routine in the summer?

Wake up at 5:30am, let Griff (dog) out, feed Griff (dog), give him his insulin before 6am, read. At about 8am sit in the garden, read, write up notes, have breakfast. Have something to eat and drink around 12pm. Paint or draw around 2pm. At about 4pm, take Griff for a walk, 5:30pm feed Griff, give him his insulin before 6pm. Have something to eat, and then watch TV. 9pm bed.

18th July -  How do you stay motivated during the summer? (for example, to study)

I make an event of it, I study outside or somewhere different. I also pencil in the time to study.

19th July - Do you stay indoors or outdoors more in the summer?

It is according on the weather, on how hot it is outside, if it's over 20′C I will stay inside and only go outside when I need to. I will take my dog for a walk either early in the morning or later at night then when it is cooler.

[ruddcatha]

Just Tell Me What He Did...

Chapter 12: Don’t Boil It! The Terrifying Dried-Up Demon

Find it on https://archiveofourown.org/works/25149847/chapters/63953497 and Fanfiction!

The episodes you have been waiting for, the cultural festival.  How does Sesshomaru handle this one?

Cowritten by and Art provided by @neutronstarchild​

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

Sesshomaru stared up at the burnt out husk of the school auditorium before him. This was one incident that Inuyasha (well, Kagome) warned him was coming, so at least he was prepared.

He wasn’t as prepared for everything else surrounding the incident.

He could detect the fading presence of demons, so Inuyasha had at least been useful.

Sesshomaru surveyed the grounds, his eyes searching for… there. He moved quickly towards his prey.

“Sato-san, it is good to see you again.”

The man was balding and wore a sweater in the most disgusting color of forest green, Sesshomaru had to train his face away from the look of disgust that tried to escape him.

“My. My my my. This was… more than I had expected for our festival…” Sato-san rubbed the back of his balding head, looking hopelessly at the building with a hole blown in its roof.

“Yes, I was quite impressed with the production, very high quality for a cultural festival. I was surprised to see the use of pyrotechnics in the play.”

Sato-san nodded his head defeatedly, “I didn’t know they’d gotten their hands on… well on incendiaries.”

“Students can be easily influenced by the movies. I’d not be surprised if somebody got a hold of some of their father’s fireworks stash.” Sesshomaru easily lied. He knew exactly what had blown a hole in the roof. “I would like to see the set up, if you please, I want to help identify what happened. This building was a gift from our family after all.”

(Sato-san did not need to know that the building was a gift specifically for what happened that day.)

Sesshomaru stood on the remains of the stage, looking up through the hole his brother had left in the ceiling, his brow twitching.  If one was paying close attention, they would hear a low growl.

“Sato-san, yes, it looks as if the display was more powerful than the students were aware. I do hope no one was hurt.” Sesshomaru believed Kagome, he really did, but he wanted confirmation that no one else was hurt from his brother’s idiocy.

“No no. Even Hojo-san was fine. He was closest to the blast.” Sato-san answered, “The damage is to the building… and… we don’t think that the smell of melon will ever be completely gone. Where those kids got the giant melon is… beyond me.”

So that was the demon stink that invaded Sesshomaru’s nose. Apparently Inuyasha had been useful, even as he had been overzealous.

“You will need an upgraded facility of course. Perhaps we could even reinforce the structure should your students desire further use of pyrotechnics. Taisho Productions would be honored to partner with your school to rebuild a new stage.” Sesshomaru tried to keep his voice as genial as possible. The principal wasn’t to blame for this one, but also, this was a demon’s fault, and not even the demon Sesshomaru thought was completely at fault.

As the principal smiled brightly, knowing now that Sesshomaru was there to write a check, Sesshomaru continued, “Thank you Sato-san, we know how important it is to foster creativity. It was a very lovely cultural festival, it was… enlightening.”

Sato-san then bowed low, “Thank you for this wonderful visit Taisho-sama. We look forward to our continued partnership.”

Sesshomaru simply nodded his head in response, “The honor is mine Sato-san.”

Sesshomaru waited until he was safely in the back of his limousine before removing a ring.  His black hair lightened to silver.  As his driver pulled away, Sesshomaru pulled out his cell phone to dial a number that had become too familiar over the past few months.

“Koga, we need to access the demon trust fund again.  Yes, half the auditorium. Apparently he felt the need to use the windscar indoors. No, he was not attacking the Hojo boy, demons had gotten loose apparently. Yes, Kagome already admitted her part in this.” 

His hand rose to rub the bridge of his nose.

“We are building a new auditorium. No. Yes. I know. Thank you Koga.” 

Sesshomaru sat back with a sigh.  A smile began to tease the edge of his mouth.

He’d feared a much more cataclysmic event from the way Kagome had described it. Replacing a building was child’s play when his brother was involved.

[quase-bruxa]

Samhain / Haloween

The Festival of Samhain marked the end of the Celtic year and the beginning of the new one and as such can be seen to the equivalent of New Year's Eve. We have seen how the Celts believed that night preceded day and so the festivities took place on the Eve of Samhain. There is no doubt that that this festival was the most important of the four Celtic Festivals. Samhain was a crucial time of year, loaded with symbolic significance for the pre-Christian Irish. The celebrations at Tlachtga may have had their origins in a fertility rite on the hill but it gathered to itself a corpus of other beliefs which crystallised at the great Fire Festival.

The perceptible, and apparent, decline in the strength of the sun at this time of year was a source of anxiety for early man and the lighting of the Winter Fires here symbolised mans attempt to assist the sun on its journey across the skies. Fire is the earthly counterpart of the sun and is a powerful and appropriate symbol to express mans helplessness in the face of the overwhelming sense of the decay of nature as the winter sets in.

Now the sun has descended into the realm of the underworld, the forces of the underworld were in the ascendency. The lord of the underworld, unfettered from the control of the sun, now walked the earth and with him travelled all those other creatures from the abode of the dead. Ghosts, fairies and a host of other non-descript creatures went with him. The Lord of the Dead in Celtic mythology can be identified as Donn.

Mythology tells us that when the invaders of Ireland known as the Miliseans landed at the Boyne, they made their way to Tara. Once there, they were advised by the Druids that they should return to their ships and sail off the shore to the length of nine waves. When they were on the sea a great storm arose which scattered their fleet. The commander of one of the ships was Donn. His ship was broken to pieces in the storm and he himself drowned along with twenty four of his comrades. He was buried on the Skellig Islands off the coast of Kerry.

He is the first of the new wave of invaders to meet his death in Ireland and, as such, he became elevated to the status of god of the dead. The place of his burial became known as Tech Donn - The house of Donn, and soon became identified with with the otherworld. The Celts were fascinated with tracing their ancestry back as far as they could and often they identified their earliest ancestors with the gods of their peoples. Hence, a belief arose that when they died they went to the house of their ancestor, the god of the otherworld.

It is interesting to note that the abode of Donn, on the Skellig Islands, is just a few miles from the traditional home of Mog Ruith at Valentia Island. As well as being geographical neighbours, both are closely associated with Samhain, when it can be said that Mog Ruith as sungod sojourns at the realm of the underworld, the abode of Donn.

Donn is seen as a retiring god who prefers the isolation of the bleak Skelligs and remains aloof from the other gods. His name means "brown" and he is associated with the shadowy realm of the dead. O'hOgain tells us that a ninth century text attributes a highly significant quotation to him "To me, to my house, you shall come after your death"

Many other sources say that the dead assemble at his house and describe deceased people travelling to and from here. Fishermen in the area were wont to hear strange boats passing to the island at night and the names of those who disembarked were called out. Later Christian writers claimed that the souls of the damned lingered at his house before departing for hell. Not surprisingly, aspects of his personage have been adapted by Christian writers in their portrayal of the devil.

Samhain being the feast of the dead can now be clearly seen as incorporating the cult of Donn into its celebrations but how they did so remains uncertain. The Fires were in all likelihood lit in honour of the sungod - here manifesting as Mog Ruith, but certain other of the trappings are clearly associated with the Lord of the Dead. The idea that Samhain is a juncture between the two halves of the year saw it acquiring the unique status of being suspended in time - it did not belong to the old year not the new. It could be said that time stood still on this night and the implications of this were immense. During this night the natural order of life was thrown into chaos and the earthly world of the living became hopelessly entangled with the world of the dead. But the world of the dead was itself a complicated place, peopled not only by the spirits of the departed, but also with a host of gods, fairies and other creatures of uncertain nature.

The unwary traveller, caught away from home on this night, could expect to encounter any one or many of these creatures and it was always advisable to stay indoors. Ghosts were everywhere and may or may not have been harmful to the living. It is interesting to note that the manuscripts tells us that all fires in the country must be extinguished on this night and could only be relit from the great flames from Tlachtga. This, of course, is not to taken literally but symbolised the brief and temporary ascendency of the powers of darkness at this time of year.

During this period all the world was in darkness and the dead were abroad. When the fire at Tlachtga was lit, it gave the signal that all was well and all other fires could now be relit. The fires at Talchtga were the public celebration of the victory of light, while the relighting of the household fire marked the domestic celebration of the feast. Now the spirits of dead ancestors could be welcomed back into the home with safety and posed no threat to the household. This theme is repeated constantly in Irish literature. MacCollugh tells us that the cult of the dead culminated at the family health. Very often the spirits of ancestors sought warmth around the fireside on this night. Fires were left lighting in the grate to warm the spirits and food was left out for them. Even though the ancestral ghosts were benign, it was still a good idea to avoid them by going to bed early.

However, the ghosts may not have been entirely benign. They needed some sort of appeasement in the form of ritual offerings on this night. So long as the offering was forthcoming the ghosts were happy and benevolent, but if the offering was withheld another side of the ghosts features were presented. Bad luck would descend on the household and all would not be well the coming year. Some vestiges of this tradition may survived in the modern Halloween custom of "trick or treat". Children, dressed as ghosts and witches, invite the household to make a donation or face the consequences. The 'treat' may represent the ritual offering while the 'trick', nowadays a harmless prank, may have in antiquity, represented the malevolent consequences of inadequately appeasing the ancestral ghost on this night.

But it was not just time that was dislocated at Samhain. Just as the festival stands on the boundary between Summer and Winter, all other boundaries were in danger at this time. The boundaries between a mans land and his neighbours were a dangerous place to be on this night. Ghosts were to be found along these points and a style between adjacent land was a place of particular dread and best avoided. Bridges and crossroads were also likely places to encounter ghosts. Naturally enough, burial places were avoided on all nights but particularly on this night. Every sort of a ghost was to be seen here and the dead mingled freely with the living.

The practice of divination - telling the future, was an important part of everyday life for the Celts and it is certain that this art formed a central part of the festivities occurred at Tlachtga at Samhain. Vestiges of this can be seen today at Halloween are familiar with the practice of going to the church at midnight on Halloween and standing in the porch. The courageous observer will see the spirits of those who will die in the coming year if he watches closely, but runs the risk of meeting himself. Similarity, girls watching in a mirror on this night will see the image of the man they will marry but also run the risk of seeing the devil.

Those brave enough to go to a grave yard at midnight and walk three times around the graves will be offered a glimpse the future but again run the risk of meeting the devil. This latter example is interesting as it preserves the three time sunwise turn so important to the Celts in the ritual. The possibility of meeting the devil may represent the well known Christian attempt to associate the pagan god of the dead with the devil of Christian belief. This being the case, Donn the Lord of the Dead, left his island home on this night and travelled freely throughout the country. Whether he carried off souls is unclear, but it is likely that he did. The ritual offerings on the Winter Fires may have been an attempt to appease him until, such time in history, he was replaced on the arrival of Christianity by the devil.

The early Irish manuscripts are littered with references to the magical significance of Samhain. It marked the end of the fighting and hunting season for the warrior troop known as the Fianna. At Samhain they retreated into winter camp, quartering themselves on the general population until the return of Summer at Beltainne. Fionn MacCumhail chose Samhain as the time to present himself before the court at Tara for the first time, while it was also at Samhain that the god Lugh made his dramatic entrance to the same court. The Connaught queen, Meave, waited until Samhain before setting out on the great Cattle Raid of Cooley.

Fionn MacCumhail, Lugh and Cuchulainn - Meave's opponent, are the three great figures of Irish mythology and it is interesting to note how Samhain is the time chosen by the writers to introduce their arrival on the scene. The Battle of Mag Tuired (supposedly in County Mayo) was fought at Samhain. It seems that when the early writers wish to impart a magical quality to the events they are depicting, they choose the Festival of Samhain for the occasion. There remains little doubt that Samhain held a central place in the imagination of the Celts, where the festivities associated with several local gods became entangled, over the course of perhaps a thousand years, with the feast of the god of the dead. Remnants of these celebrations have come down to us in our own celebrations of Halloween.

An excerpt from Tlachtga: Celtic Fire festival by John Gilroy.