#he's a giant ce.

[darabeatha]

host j.ason is a thing

[misspygmypie]

A One-ce Upon A Time Celebration

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x reader, Lando Norris x Baby Maebry, Max F x Maebry Charles and Oscar make an appearance :) Words: 1647 Request: By the lovely @landossainz "for meet and greet universe, can you write where it is Maebry's first birthday and they celebrate it with their families and friends." Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

On this special day the Norris family backyard was transformed into a fairytale wonderland. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the sound of joyful laughter as Lando and Y/N prepared for a celebration that would mark their daughter Maebry’s very first birthday. Their chosen theme, “One-ce Upon a Time,” promised to be a magical day and they had spared no costs in bringing their vision to life.

Lando was the epitome of Prince Charming in an outfit that looked like it had been plucked from a storybook. His ensemble featured a dazzling jacket with golden embroidery, a crisp white shirt and a smile that seemed to outshine everything. He moved with pride, his heart swelling each time he glanced at his little princess.

Y/N, ever the elegant queen, was dressed in a flowing pastel gown that shimmered with every step she took. The gown was adorned with delicate embroidery of magical creatures and enchanted forests and her crown of flowers added a touch of fairytale magic. She floated through the garden, her eyes twinkling with happiness as she greeted guests and ensured that everything was perfect for their daughter.

Maebry, the star of the day, was a vision of cuteness in her stunning gown of layered yellow tulle and blue ribbons, resembling her favorite Disney princess: Snow White. Her head was topped off with a giant red bow that made her look every bit the princess she was wanting to be. Her tiny red shoes twinkled with each step she took and her face was a picture of wonder as she explored her “One-ce Upon a Time” world.

Noah was dressed as a brave knight, his silver armor shining in the sun. He had a toy sword strapped to his side and his little chest puffed with pride as he took his role as protector of his baby sister very seriously. He was the guardian of the day, always nearby to defend Maebry from any imaginary dragons or mischievous trolls that might dare to disrupt the celebration.

The garden buzzed with excitement as guests arrived to experience the fairytale wonderland. There was a “Royal Tea Party” corner where children and adults alike could enjoy tiny pastries and sip from small teacups. A “Prince and Princess” dress-up area especially made the little ones happy, they were able to pick crowns and capes to join the royal festivities. Nearby, a “Storybook Reading” nook featured comfy cushions and enchanting tales read by Y/N’s close friends, adding an extra touch of magic to the day.

Lando’s parents, who had traveled to Monaco from Bristol to celebrate their granddaughter’s special day, were absolutely besotted with Maebry. Cisca had been knitting a blanket for Maebry since before she was born. Today she was thrilled to finally present it to her granddaughter, her eyes brimming with tears of joy.

“Look at this beautiful girl,” Cisca cooed as she wrapped the soft blanket around Maebry. “I’ve been working on this for so long and it’s finally here. You truly are our little princess, darling.”

Maebry giggled as she felt the softness of the blanket, reaching out to touch her grandmother’s face. Lando’s father Adam, with a proud grin, showed off pictures of Maebry to the other guests. “Have you seen these? She’s grown so much since the last time we saw her. And just look at her in that gown!”

A group of Lando’s Formula 1 friends arrived, among them Max Verstappen with his girlfriend Kelly and daughter Penelope, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Ricciardo and also Charles Leclerc who immediately started gushing over Maebry.

“Wow, Lando, she’s absolutely adorable,” Charles said as he crouched down to Maebry’s level. “Are you sure she’s only one? She’s already got her own fan club.”

Maebry’s giggles grew louder as Charles made playful faces and he gently lifted her into his arms, rocking her back and forth. “This little princess is stealing all our hearts today.”

Oscar Piastri, Lando’s teammate, also made a grand entrance and immediately made a beeline for the “Prince and Princess” dress-up area, where he enthusiastically took a toy crown and cape, playfully pretending to be a prince alongside Maebry.

“Look at me, I’m the prince of this land,” Oscar declared with a grin, playfully spinning around. “And I’ve got the best little princess by my side!”

Lando, watching the interaction with a smile, was surprised at first. Oscar was usually more of a quiet type but everytime he was around Maebry he turned into the fun uncle instantly. 

“Thanks for coming, everyone,” Lando said eventually to the other drivers, “it means a lot to us that you’re here to share this day with us. Maebry’s been looking forward to celebrating with all of you.”

Charles waved a hand dismissively. “It’s our pleasure! We wouldn’t miss it for the world. And you know, she’s already got us all wrapped around her little finger.”

“Absolutely,” Oscar added, adjusting his crown, “she’s the real star of the show. I think we might have to make her our team’s official mascot!”

Maebry’s birthday party was in full swing and one guest was extra excited. Max Fewtrell, Lando’s best friend and Maebry’s godfather, had been eagerly waiting for the perfect moment to present his special gift. Dressed in a perfect Flynn Ryder outfit Max smiled as he approached Lando and Y/N, who was holding Maebry.

“Hey, guys,” Max called out, catching Lando’s eye. “Can I borrow Maebry for a moment?”

Y/N, not hesitating at all, gently handed Maebry over to him. “Of course, she’s been looking forward to seeing her favorite uncle.”

Max cradled Maebry in his arms, his face lighting up and everyone could see how much he adored her. “I’ve got something really special for you, little one,” he directed at the girl just as he was sitting down at a table. “It’s not every day you turn one, after all.”

He reached into a large, pink gift bag and carefully pulled out a beautifully crafted storybook. The book was bound in rich, deep blue leather with gold lettering on the cover that read, “Maebry’s Magical Adventures.” It featured illustrations of mythical creatures, enchanted forests and twinkling stars.

“Look at this,” Max said, showing the book to Maebry as she gazed up at him with wide, curious eyes. “I had this made just for you.”

Max opened the book to reveal its contents, which were not only filled with personalized stories but also featured memories of Max and Maebry together. The first few pages contained charming tales of a brave little princess who looked remarkably like Maebry, embarking on magical quests and discovering new lands. Each story was accompanied by illustrations that included subtle nods to special moments Max and Maebry had shared so far, like their first meeting or a day spent playing in the park.

On the final page was a special dedication from Max, written in elegant script:

To Maebry, my dearest goddaughter,

May this book be the start of many magical adventures. Whenever you open it, remember that you are loved beyond measure and that there is always a world of wonder waiting for you. With all my love,

Max

Max’s voice softened as he continued, “I thought this would be a great way for you to have a little piece of magic with you every night as you grow up. And when you’re older you can read the stories together with your parents. It’ll be a special keepsake from your first birthday.”

Maebry’s eyes widened in delight as she traced the gold lettering on the cover. Lando and Y/N watched and Y/N couldn’t hold back the tears from forming in her eyes. “That’s an amazing gift, Max,” Lando said. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

Max looked up at his best friend, his eyes shining with sincerity. “She’s my goddaughter, after all. I want her to have something magical to remember this day by and something she can cherish as she grows up. I’ve been showering her with gifts and little surprises since she was born and I’m not going to stop, ever, but I wanted this to be extra special.”

Y/N reached out and gave Max a heartfelt hug. “Thank you, Max. It’s perfect. Maebry will treasure it forever.”

Max carefully placed the book into Y/N’s hands and she held it close to Maebry. “I hope you love it as much as I loved picking it out for you,” he said softly, giving the girl a loving kiss on her cheek.

Maebry clapped her hands with joy, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at her new book but soon Max whisked her away to rejoin the birthday activities.

As the sun began to set Lando and Y/N took a moment to themselves. They watched as Maebry played with the other kids, her eyes sparkling with happiness. Lando’s gaze, however, was not just filled with pride, it was also tinged with just a touch of sadness.

“It’s hard to believe my little princess is already one,” Lando said softly. “It feels like just yesterday we were bringing her home from the hospital. Watching her grow up so fast… it’s both wonderful and a little heartbreaking.”

Y/N noticed the look in Lando’s eyes and gently took his hand. “I know,” she said, her voice soothing. “It’s incredible how quickly time passes. But look at her now, she’s so happy, surrounded by people who love her. We’ve made so many beautiful memories already and there are so many more to come.”

Lando nodded, his gaze returning to his daughter as she giggled. “You’re right. Today has been perfect and I’m so proud of her. I just wish time didn’t move so quickly.”

“We can’t stop time but we can cherish every moment,” Y/N smiled, resting her head on his shoulder.

________

AN: Thank you so so much for requesting this @landossainz UGH I was so excited to write this, I may have gone a biiit over the top lol! I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

[konigbabe]

steal the thunder - I -

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.

Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.

The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.

The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.

A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.

"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.

He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.

"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"

You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.

"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."

The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.

"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."

"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.

You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?

No.

Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.

"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.

Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.

"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"

The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.

"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.

Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.

You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.

A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.

He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.

"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.

"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.

Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.

"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"

The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.

"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"

"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.

A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.

You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.

A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.

In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.

His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –

But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.

Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.

Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.

It hits you then–

"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.

–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.

Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.

Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.

Except it doesn't.

"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.

Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.

Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.

The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.

"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."

Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.

"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.

A fortunate circumstance.

"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.

The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."

With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.

"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.

His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.

You don't give him time to react properly.

The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.

As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.

With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.

Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–

"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.

The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.

The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.

"Not bad at all."

–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.

Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.

His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.

With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.

Crack.

He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you

"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"

With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."

A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"

You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.

"The name's Hajime Kashimo."

The words hang, a telltale echo–

Hajime Kashimo.

–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.

The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.

And here, right before you, stands the man himself.

"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"

The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."

He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.

"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.

Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.

An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.

Detain an attack when it comes,–

Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.

–and send it away when it retreats.

Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.

"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.

"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.

"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.

Once the hand is freed from contact,–

A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.

–carry out a strike with it.

Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.

It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.

As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.

"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.

This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.

Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.

Chase the movement of the opponent–

As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.

While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.

–to continue the attack.

It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.

One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.

Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.

The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.

Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.

Then you take off.

With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.

"Running so soon?"

His taunting words reach you.

"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.

Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.

Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.

In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.

Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.

"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.

Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.

Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."

He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm

"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.

Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.

"–that I'm only stretching."

His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.

A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.

"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.

It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.

Or so you thought.

Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.

He must've reinforced his cursed energy.

"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.

The final move.

And it failed.

It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.

As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.

But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.

As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.

Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.

The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.

A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.

If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.

His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.

"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.

"It's accumulated enough."

That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.

His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.

The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.

The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:

Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.

However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.

In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.

As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.

So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.

It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.

The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.

"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.

Implosion.

The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.

The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.

Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.

"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."

"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.

"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"

The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.

"On vaca–"

The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.

"Don't play with me. Spit it out."

"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."

From here, everything dissolves into darkness.

The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.

Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.

Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.

"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.

The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"

Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…

Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.

It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.

"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.

And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.

[toa-arania]

Gender is such a fascinating thing in Bionicle because objectively why is it there? Why do the biomechanical maintenance nanobots of a giant robot have gender? Or, more accurately, why do they have a gender binary? The gender binary as we understand it is (unfortunately) heavily linked to biological sex, something that MU bionicles don't have. The logical answer is that the Great Beings gave them gender to be reflective of their own society, where there are biological beings that reproduce biologically and have a gender binary that presumably sprouted from that, at least initially. However, despite giving them gender, they didn't give them any kind of sexual dimorphism, and for this we want to look at some of the non-matoran species and how they interact with gender.

The Vortixx are a society heavily stratified by gender - being 'male' or 'female' is more like a class system, with females as the upper class and males as the lower, working class. It's very reminiscent of the Orions from Star Trek. Additionally, we know that the species is not sexually dimorphic. Yes, the species that produced Dommy Mommy Roodaka, with her heels, ass, tits, and ponytail, is not sexually dimorphic. We see in one of the comics that a Vortixx confirmed to be male also just looks like that, and honestly we love that for him. He even has the rhotuka ripcord that kinda looks like a riding crop. We know that the Vortixx were created by Mata Nui rather than the Great Beings directly, so is it perhaps possible that because their perception of gender made no sense to apply to the MU inhabitants, Mata Nui compensated by having gender present itself in other ways?

Consider also the Skakdi, where the only thing we know (at least as far as I'm aware) about their relationship with gender is that there are female Skakdi, and that they are more violent and destructive than the males. We have never seen one, and we know so little to the point where I actually thought for a while that the Skakdi were a single-gender species. Like the non-GSR characters in Bionicle, they were given their elemental associations separately from their genders, and we've seen nothing to suggest that gender has any bearing on their society aside from disposition.

Then we come to the Matoran. For Matoran, gender is quite frankly fucking bizarre. The Av-Matoran were the first type to be made, and they are also the only type that can be more than one gender. The doylist explanation for that is so that they can blend into other Matoran types better, but that doesn't make any sense because those other types didn't exist yet. We do have a quote from Greg about gender in the Matoran, where it's stated to be a psychological difference rather than a physiological one, where the 'feminine' elements are calmer peacemakers, which is an absolutely fascinating quote because it's completely untrue. It might be true about the Ga-Matoran (with notable exceptions like Hahli), but it sure ain't true of the Vo-Matoran and Ce-Matoran, where our two primary examples are Chiara (electrocutes a lizard to make the point that females aren't gentle) and Varian (tortures Norik with nightmares for fun). There's also Orde but I genuinely have no idea what to do about him. He claims that he got all Ce-Matoran made into women to make them chiller and it clearly didn't fucking work so other than I guess the pitch of their voice there just isn't any observable difference.

What is demonstrably true is how general disposition does seem to vary between individual elements, and since Greg has confirmed that gender in Bionicle is a psychological variation that affects outlook and disposition, I honestly do not think it's a stretch to say that, at least for the Matoran, each of the fifteen elements is a separate gender. Honestly this even makes the elemental prefixes neopronouns, from a certain perspective. The Shadow Matoran are also fascinating to look at from this angle because they don't ordinarily exist; they're made from other kinds of matoran - the fifteen 'standard' genders if you will. They don't call themselves Kra-Matoran because they aren't a defined group, and they never think of themselves as one. They go back to what they were beforehand perfectly fine and at least act better off for it - with one exception. Gavla (the only female Av-Matoran we actually meet, who feels ostracised from her community) wanted to stay a Shadow Matoran, a kind of Matoran outside the standard concept of what elements they could be because she felt wrong as an Av-Matoran, and as a Shadow Matoran she felt more like herself. All this is to say:

Gavla Bionicle is Transgender and Non-Binary, have a nice day.

[sanzaibian]

I turns off my phone angrily. I have barely touched down to Pudong International Airport, and now I have to call my Shanghai agent about how I’m going to be late, and that “China Eastern”, that company full of crooks, doesn’t even want to compensate my $4200 business class ticket for being 2 hours late.

“Allô ? C’est Julien, je suis enfin arrivé à Shanghai. (Hello ? It’s Julien, I’ve finally touched down at Shanghai.)” I say to my local correspondent, the one responsible for dragging me here.

- Enfin ! Ça fait une heure qu’on vous attend ! (Finally ! We’ve been waiting for you for a whole hour !)

- C’est pas ma faute ! Le vol a eu deux heures de retard à cause de soi-disants ‘vents forts’ vers la Mongolie… et ces escrocs ne veulent rien me rembourser… typique… (It’s not my fault ! The flight was two hours late due to so-called ‘powerful winds’ around Mongolia… and those crooks don’t want to reimburse me… typical…)” I answer, annoyed.

- Bon, de l’Aéroport de 浦東 (Pudong) jusqu’ici… pff… je vais devoir leur dire de revenir cet après-midi… (So, from 浦東 (Pudong) Airport to here… ugh… I need to ask them to come back this afternoon…)” He says, similarly annoyed, though seemingly flaunting his perfect pronunciation in Chinese.

- Ne râle pas sur moi, j’ai rien fait ! Je savais que j’aurais dû prendre Air France, ils n’auraient pas eu de retard comme ces asiates… (Don’t dump it on me, I did nothing ! I knew I should have gone for Air France, they wouldn’t be late like those chinks…)

- Roh… (Ugh…)” He sighs a while. “Je vais m’occuper de tout. Juste… viens aussi vite que possible. (I’ll manage. Just… come here as soon as you can.)”

I turn off the phone. As if I would waste a minute of my life… I’m Julien Blanc, and my time is money, just like the saying goes. As the heir of a multi-million dollars worth banking company, I have investments left right and center, and can’t let the next golden goose escape me.

Recently, a well-known investor, Pierre Zhang, let me know of a promising startup here in Shanghai. While at first I was understandingly skeptical, after all chinks are known for their plagiarism, I did check the project and found it to be unique, and even viable.

While I do know that Pierre Zhang is half one of them, so he does take their side much more than a regular person would, this time he saw a good opportunity. And it will be botched due to an incapable company that spouted nonsense about “strong winds” or something and was late as a result.

Angrily, I stomp in the giant airport halls, guiding myself thanks to my impeccable English – though, just don’t listen to the pronunciation. I’m stopped multiple times for security checks, and I do swear on them a couple of times, but they deserved it for wasting my time even more.

However, as I was striding in the main hall in order to find the metro station, seeing more and more of those chink hooligans, one of them shoves me to the side. He’s wearing a mask like the pussy he is, as well as a ridiculous oversized hoodie, some laughable jewelry and undistinguished sweatpants.

He’s left as soon as I turn around, meaning I can’t berate him. Youth these days are really insufferable. Where I grew up, on the Saint-Louis island in Paris, we weren’t even half as rude as today’s kids.

Scoffing, I continue rushing to the metro, though I kind of feel dizzy. Did he give me a disease or something ? When I reach the metro shoot, I see a barrier with policemen. Apparently they’re scanning for the coronavirus – they’re still doing that ? – by checking our temperature.

I go in the barrier, confident that I’ll pass the test, when suddenly, my path is blocked.

“Sorry, sir, please come with me.” Said a policewoman in her heavily accented English.

- What are you doing ! Let me go, I did nothing wrong !” I protest with a similarly accented English.

The policewoman doesn’t answer me and leads me to a small room in the airport. There, I see a bunch of other people with masks, waiting on seats. Showing me a mask, the policewoman explain :

“You may be sick. Take a mask and wait. - I’m going to be late ! Nothing’s wrong with me, just let me leave !” I say, though I don’t notice my accent shifting a little.

- Wear it or face consequences.” The policewoman insists, dangling the mask in front of my eyes. I sigh.

- Okay, but make it quick. I’ll wear 一只 (one).”

I squint my eyes. How did I say ‘one’ ? It feels incorrect, have I accidentally used French ‘un’ ?

I take the mask and wear it, still squinting. I still feel dizzy, so I guess the policewoman must have been right ? I take my phone out, wanting to send a quick message to Pierre about me being late, but something seems wrong.

When I look on my phone, there’s a weird app named 抖音 that has been installed. I don’t remember doing that. In fact, why is there even a Chinese app on my phone !

I click on it, and suddenly, videos start playing. I squint my eyes as I look at the videos of ch… Chinese people doing a variety of things. First it’s a video of a cat rubbing on someone, and that guy exclaimed “它真的是只饥渴死的猫啊！”, with then the woman filming answering, with a hurried tone “快摸它啊，你干嘛在那儿等呗？真冷啊。”. Even though I don’t understand a word that is said, I can guess that the woman is telling the guy to go rub the cat.

It’s funnier than I expected. Turns out the Chinese have more humor than I thought. Then, another video comes on, showing a guy, looking just like that punk from earlier, saying “穿这种衣服，我干嘛不会感丢人哎？(… these clothes… … lose face ?)”, and the camera pans out to a woman in a cockroach outfit. The punk continues “你已经三十岁了，为什么还在买这种衣服了？(… thirty years old, why still buy… ?)”, the woman answers “你现在我穿什么你都要管吗？(You... right now what I wear… your business ?)”. The punk then comes back into frame, with the woman on the left, asking “没有情侣版吗？哪只手我该牵啊？(There isn’t a couple’s version ? Which hand should I hold ?). Then, the woman shows a tendril, and they hold hands like that. I smile, finding it way funnier than it should.

I don’t really notice how I understand more and more what’s on 抖音 (Douyin), though I do let myself grow limp on the waiting room chair. I guess I don’t have much regards anymore for how I look, after all I’m waiting for a coronavirus test. Nobody’s going to comment on my posture !

The next video shows three guys running, with the caption 三人跑步时能干什么 (What can three people do while running together ?), and I see how their hair bop up and down. I’ve been shaving myself bald for quite a few years, ever since I was balding too much for me to bother with hair, but seeing these guys like that makes me a bit nostalgic of that time.

Seeing them doing stupider and stupider stuff, and smiling more and more as they show bungee jumping, doing pull-ups, playing games, stir-frying and even boxing, I feel a bit weird. Like I can kind of relate, in my youth I also did crazy things, and it would absolutely be something I would have done with my friends. I scratch my head, feeling it tingle, as I continue watching the next video, not even realizing my squinting is less and less strenuous.

The videos continue trickling in, every one more humorous than the last, and I catch myself chuckling out loud multiple times. By now, I understand everything very clearly, and when a doctor comes to do a coronavirus test, I don’t even blink when he addresses me in Chinese :

“少年，请跟我进走。(Young man, please enter with me.)

- Yes, 先生。(Yes, sir.)” I answer, mixing English and Chinese.

Everything is confused as he takes me to a machine, my thoughts mixing French, English and Chinese. Even my clothes feel… less tight than they used to. Almost as if they were melting and becoming glue.

I take place in the machine and he activates it. I feel as if things become clearer while I’m in. Like, for example, why was I stressed just now ? I don’t have anything important to do right now. And why languages are mixed ? I guess it’s because it’s cooler to mix in English…

The machine stops, and I leave it, scratching my straight hair. Had I ? … no, of course not, it’s my facial hair that I shave…

The doctor hands me my piercings.

“Euh, attendez, 先生，有什么不对了…… (Er, wait, sir, there’s something that’s not right.)” I ask, mixing French and Chinese. I really feel like something is not right.

- 什么发生过了？会跟我谈一谈。(What happened ? You can discuss it with me.)

- 我……有个奇怪的感受。Est-ce que 您找到了种疾病吗？(I… have a weird feeling. Did you find some kind of disease ?)

- 没有。但是您不舒服的话我肯定会给您扑热息痛。(I didn’t. However, if you don’t feel good, I can give you some paracetamol.)” He answers me, with a helpful look.

- 该好了。Merci. (It should be good. Thank you.)”

I take the pill he gives me, and put my piercings back on as I go back in the terminal. As I walk, I feel very comfy, as if everything was alright. I look down on my large oversized hoodie with its colorful prints. I feel like I’m in my youth once again… huh, it’s so weird to say that when I’m only... 23 years old !

Suddenly, I get a phone call from a weird contact I don’t remember having, someone named 张皮尔 (Zhang Pi’er/Pierre). I accept the call :

“喂。是谁？(Hello. Who’s there ?)” I ask, with a perfect accent.

- Julien ? Pourquoi tu parles chinois ? (Julien ? Why do you speak Chinese ?)” He groans, then switches to Chinese. “是我问您是谁。是您的电话吗？(I’m the one asking you who you are. Is it your phone ?)

- 当然是。我是个富二代，为啥要偷手机啊？(Of course. I have a trust fund, why would I steal a phone ?)” I slur, my speech becoming more and more relaxed.

- 嗯……那您是谁啊？您认不认识Julien Blanc ? (Ugh… So who are you ? Do you know Julien Blanc ?)

- 是白炬亮。那你到底是谁啊？(I’m Bai Juliang. And now can you tell me who you are ?)

- 是张皮尔……嗯……听我说一下。你有没有多钱会投资？我认为了Julien Blanc要投资新项目，但你还会投资一下。有没有兴趣？(I’m Pierre Zhang… ugh… Listen. Do you have a lot of money to invest ? I thought Julien Blanc would come and invest in a new project, but you can still invest. Are you interested ?)”

I think for a while. It could be great to have some money coming from another place than my parents’ company… plus, I don’t want to have to join it, or risk being cut off from my money…

However, there’s time, I’m still young, and there’s no rush right now… Plus, having work is, like, a lot of work, and I don’t want to work… But I have an idea.

“张先生，你想不想跟我投资？我给了你钱币，你给了我专业，收入分两半。感觉好吗？(Mr. Zhang, do you want to invest with me ? I give you the funds, you give me the expertise, and we divide the profits in half. Do you like that ?)”

After a while, he answers :

“感觉好了。(I think it’s good.)”

[the-wayward-arc]

"And great warriors saved them all."

"Mama, are they real?"

She smiled weakly, "do you think they are?"

"Yeah, yeah I do. I hope they come for us one day..." Her mother held her hand as the caged walls separating didn't allow close contact between parent and child. All her siblings held their mama's hand as they slept.....

"I-its okay...m-mama's here..." She choked as her children cried, holding her hand from the cage as she struggled to breath, barely able to see them as her bruised swollen face from their master's beating. She looked away as said Master, an four armed reptilian xenos, was being beaten by an white armored Giant. The master begging for mercy as the giant kept beating him, each fist covered in purple blood.

"Avez-vous montré sa pitié ?!" ("Did you show her mercy?!")

Bring down both fists onto the master's face, caving it in as blood splattered onto the warriors armor as the master went limp, arms falling to the side as he stopped moving. The giant looked at her, she held her children's hands as she feared the worst. But he didn't raise a hand against her, kneeling down to her as he took off his helmet, she gasped as she saw a face like her people. With the color of blue sky she saw only once in her youth in his eyes, his eyes were warm as she placed his large armored hand out for her to reach. More warriors came in,

"Est-ce qu'elle ira bien ?" (Will she be alright?) He asked one as a small light washed over her from a machine on his arm.

She watched as the warrior nodded to him as the warrior slowly and carefully began to lift her up, she held onto her children's hand tightly as they did. Her children screaming for her, but the warrior smiled at her, a reassuring smile as she let go. She watched as he gripped the cage doors and effortlessly ripped it off, kneeling down to her frighten children as he too extended his hand to them, they were hesitant till her brave child walked forward.

"Are you the warriors our mama told us about?" He didn't speak their language, but he smiled at her and slowly each child accepted his hand. Carefully and slowly picking all five of them up as she carried them in his arms. Some climbing to his shoulders or head as they left.

She looked, the best she could see as more and more bodies of the slain masters laid strewn about. More giant warriors walked by, followed by smaller warriors as she heard small explosions and screams of her masters fill the halls. She saw her fellow slaves, women and their children as they were led out of this place...

Eventually they neared the exit, something she hadn't seen since she was a child, all were nearly blinded by the light as they hadn't seen the sun in so long, but as their eyes adjusted, ready to see the warships of her masters that filled the skies before she was thrown down here. The huge flag that waved way off distance in the capital above the Palace, but she didn't. No. She saw something else, huge warships she's never seen before! Hundreds of them in the sky as she watched one of the masters ship slowly fall from the sky, exploding as it crash landed in the distance.

The warrior looked at her before they were all gestured to look at something he was pointing at. Soon a giant face of a man appeared in yhe sky above, he had long hair that was the same color as the sun with the same colored eyes as the warrior that held her.

"Les gens de ce monde ! Vous ne me comprenez peut-être pas, mais laissez mes actions vous montrer, vous montrer que nous ne sommes pas là pour des conquérants ! Mais en tant que libérateurs !" (People of this world! You may not understand me, but let my actions show you, show you that we are not here to conquerors! But as your liberators!) He spoke as the flag that once reminded them all who their master's were fell,

"Tu es libre!" (You are free!) He exclaimed, holding the Symbol the Emperor of the master's, it was nothing but pieces as it fell from his hand.

"M-mama! The warriors! There the warriors you told us about!" Her daughter exclaimed happily as the people around them began to weep, falling to their knees. She too crying as the warriors around them began to cheer as well.

the surviving xenos of the World known as Rylk were being rounded up, brought to their knees as their Emperor was dead. Slain by the Primarch Jaune arc. The 11th Legion had freed another world from the darkness, their sacred duty as the defenders of the weak will never cease.

Been listening to this was inspired

[xhanisai]

Uhh marichat where Chat gets Mari away from an akuma and she accidentally forgets she’s not wearing the mask when she talks to him.

~(x)~

.

He didn't even take the time to breathe and before he knew it, Chat Noir pounced on Marinette's frozen form and rolled them away in the nick of time. The nasty Akuma's razor-sharp claws swiped the area she was at momentarily ago at lightning speed and had the hero not been quick enough, well...

In his arms, he'd be holding Marinette "I'm-In-So-Much-Du-FUCKING-PAIN" Cheng instead and it would have been a severely gruesome sight. Thank the kwamis from all around the world that some good luck shined on him for once (but most importantly, thank the lucky charm bracelet Marinette gave him a long while back which he wore religiously every day as a civilian).

The Akuma's warning growls and oncoming form were enough to snap the feline out of his thoughts and by instinct, he picked Marinette up bridal style and sprinted away as fast as possible. Though, the Akuma let out one last roar of anger which Chat Noir managed to hear even after putting a few good hundreds of metres between them.

"I WILL GET MY REVENGE ON YOU MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG! YOU WILL NEVER INSULT MY BRILLIANT FOOD EVER AGAIN YOU BRAT!"

Wide-eyed, Chat Noir directed his greens towards his huffing good friend, the girl rolling her eyes at the Akuma's words and looking very annoyed rather than scared for her life. As if the whole thing was just an inconvenience and the Akuma's claws weren't literally millimetres away from turning her into a sheesh kebab.

"Marinette? Est-ce vrais?" He asked as he continued to leap from rooftop to rooftop, noting in the back of his head that the Akuma was now busy arguing with le Papillon in their head a good distance away. They were safe for now.

"He was selling mouldy fruit tarts! And the sandwiches tasted like they were made ten thousand years ago!" She folded her arms and huffed childishly again when he set her down on her feet, his hands on his hips and a brow raised attractively under the mask. "I told him this politely and tried my best to not make a fuss. But no! He started yelling at me and got all the customers' attention!" Her blue eyes then turned beady with its glare. "Then that stupid man tried to insult Maman and Papa, saying how can a stupid kid like me with parents like them know any better? So I said his food sucked and that even a five-year-old could do a way better job! Hmmph!"

Ahh. No wonder he got akumatised and had a vendetta against the pouting girl. Chat Noir could only smile at her endearingly, always admiring the way Marinette could get so fired up and passionate on behalf of other people. It's one of the many, many things about her that made his heart flutter and try his best to match her energy when he can. It's just a shame that instead of getting a chance to de-escalate the argument, le Papillon reared his ugly head and took advantage of the fuming man's emotions.

"Well. It looks like he's itching to dice you up and put you on a tart. You should hide before the Akuma--"

"COME OUT, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE, DUPAIN-CHENG!!!!"

Just as Chat Noir was about to scoop her back in his arms and dart away, Marinette did a complete one-eighty and took on a strong stance. Fists curled by her sides, eyes now narrowed with determination and she stared down at the Akuma who was still quite a distance away from them; his giant but clumsy form still looking for her with a nasty scowl on his face.

"Chat Noir. Get to the rooftop on the Akuma's left and have your catacylsme ready. I'll summon a lucky charm once I'm behind him. I guarantee that the butterfly is in his apron so hopefully I'll get a pair of scissors or something." She was completely blind to the way Chat Noir gawked behind her, his jaw comically dropping to the floor and his eyes bulging out of their sockets.

He couldn't even utter a word.

"Let's go!" She ordered and just as she ran and reached the end of the rooftop they were perched on, her hand automatically went to the side of her hip.

When she didn't feel her yoyo anywhere on her and realised that she was still decked up in her civilian attire, it was as if a bucket of icy cold water mercilessly poured on her head. In pure Marinette style, her face contorted into one that screamed 'I FUCKED UP' and slowly, she faced her Chaton who was still gaping at her.

.

"...I can explain." She rasped weakly. Instead of laughing it all off and pretending nothing happened like he should've (that stupid cat!), Chat Noir got down to one knee instead, pulled off his ring, revealing himself to be none other than Adrien Agreste and spoke.

"Marry me. Now. Please."

.

Of course, Marinette screamed like a dying monkey.

.

~(x)~

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

[thecreaturecodex]

The Laughing Hand

Image by Jolyne Garcia, © Hasbro and Critical Role. Accessed at the Critical Role Wiki here

[Sponsored by @tar-baphon. Critical Role is not something I ever got into. And despite two official D&D sourcebooks for Critical Role and a post-OGL fantasy heartbreaker RPG written for the setting, there's no official statblock for Ganix the Laughing Hand. There are, however, plenty of dedicated fans on the CR Wiki and on Reddit who made observations about his abilities and some guesswork onto their own statblocks, which I did reference. Some things that I noticed while working on this stat block are the persistence of D&D 4e design elements into what is nominally a 5e campaign (but of course is really an entertainment podcast first and foremost). In Critical Role, the Laughing Hand is a servitor of Torog, a god from the 4e "Points of Light" setting who does not officially appear in D&D 5e except in the Critical Role sourcebooks. He can also summon minions, and has absolutely no ranged capacity, which are both very 4e design elements. I made him a servitor of Yhidothrus, being PF's giant subterranean worm divinity, gave him unholy blight so he wasn't completely helpless against an army of flying PCs and... had to get creative with the minions.]

The Laughing Hand CR 17 CE Outsider (extraplanar) This hulking giant is twice as tall as a normal man. His skin is gray and splashed with red, and his eyes burn yellow beneath his thick hooded leather cloak. One of his hands is replaced with an oversized, double-edged blade, and the other has a fanged mouth in the palm. Similar fanged mouths open up over his body at odd angles, twisted into wry, mocking smiles.

The Laughing Hand was once a mortal general named Garix. Garix dared to challenge Yhidothrus, rallying an army to slay the Ravager Worm in a mad attempt to fight and kill the concept of entropy itself. Only Garix and his prized hunting hounds were even able to reach Yhidothrus directly, and the demon lord was amused by the hubris of his human adversary. After a century of torture, Garix was transformed into the Laughing Hand, a fiend that will come back from death endlessly to inflict suffering on the world of men.

Garix finds his own torment and transformation hilarious, and unless he is trying to be stealthy, he constantly laughs from his many mouths. This laughter causes creatures to freeze in terror, being unable to flee or fight back as the Laughing Hand tears them apart. If blades are raised against him, a new mouth opens up, adding to the horrible chorus. The Laughing Hand is often mobile in combat, leaping across the battlefield in order to target vulnerable targets. He can summon ghastly shadows of his beloved hounds, which he uses to block pursuit and set up flanking.

In order to slay Garix permanently, his heart must be found—this was cut from his chest and transformed into an oversized reliquary of sorts. This structure, called the Permaheart, is on a demiplane accessible only through a handful of portals. Finding this heart is a goal of both Yhidothrus’ enemies and cultists—his cultists in order to gain leverage over one of their god’s most powerful servants. If the Permaheart is ever destroyed, the Laughing Hand’s defenses weaken, but even then he is still a powerful melee combatant.

The Laughing Hand        CR 17 XP 102,400 CE Large outsider (chaos, evil, extraplanar) Init +8; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +31, see invisibility Aura mocking laughter (15 ft., DC 25)

Defense AC 33, touch 14, flat-footed 29 (-1 size, +4 Dex, +1 dodge, +4 armor, +15 natural) hp 264 (23d10+138) Fort +13, Ref +17, Will +18 DR 15/good; Immune poison; Resist cold 10, electricity 10, fire 10; SR 28 Defensive Abilities fortification (50%),rejuvenation

Offense Speed 40 ft. Melee armblade +30 (2d8+8/17-20), slam +30 (2d6+8 plus grab), bite +30 (1d8+8) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks rake (bites +30, 1d8+8) Spell-like Abilities CL 17th, concentration +21 Constant—see invisibility At will—unholy blight (DC 18) 1/day—summon (8th level, 100%)

Statistics Str 27, Dex 19, Con 22, Int 13, Wis 20, Cha 18 Base Atk +23; CMB +32 (+36 grapple); CMD 47 Feats Cleave, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Improved Critical (armblade), Improved Initiative, Great Cleave, Mobility, Nimble Moves, Outflank, Power Attack, Precise Strike, Spring Attack Skills Acrobatics +30 (+34 when jumping), Climb +34, Intimidate +30, Perception +31, Sense Motive +31, Survival +31, Swim +34 Languages Abyssal, Aklo, Common SQ mighty leap, spawn maw

Ecology Environment any land or underground (Abyss) Organization unique Treasure standard (+2 moderate fortification leather armor, other treasure)

Special Abilities Armblade (Ex) The Laughing Hand’s armblade is treated as a primary natural weapon that deals slashing damage and threatens a critical hit on a roll of 19-20. Aura of Mocking Laughter (Su) All creatures within 15 feet of the Laughing Hand must succeed a DC 25 Will save or cower in fear for 1 round. The Laughing Hand can suppress or resume this ability as a free action. Demons are immune to this effect. This is a mind-influencing fear effect and the save DC is Charisma based. Mighty Leap (Ex) The Laughing Hand suffers no penalty from making a long jump without a running start. If he does get a running start, he doubles the distance traveled. Rake (Ex) When the Laughing Hand uses his rake attack, he normally has only one bite. He gains more bites by the use of the spawn maw ability. Rejuvenation (Su) If the Laughing Hand is slain, he reforms 24 hours later in the Spiral Paths. This can be disrupted if the Permaheart, hidden on a demiplane, is destroyed. If the Permaheart is destroyed and the Laughing Hand still lives, he loses his energy resistances, his DR is reduced to 5/good and his SR reduced to 18. Spawn Maw (Su) Whenever the Laughing Hand takes 10 or more damage from a piercing or slashing weapon, a new mouth opens up in the wound. This raises the save DC of the aura of mocking laughter by +1 for as long as the maw exists (to a maximum save DC of 35 for 10 maws), and gives the Laughing Hand another bite attack it can use when it uses its rake ability. Maws spawned this way last for 1 minute before they are resorbed into the Laughing Hand’s body. Summon (Sp) Once per day as a standard action, the Laughing Hand can summon four bleak hounds. Treat these as 10th level dog animal companions, only with spider climb as a constant supernatural ability and Precise Strike and Outflank as bonus feats. These hounds last for 1 hour or until slain.

[runabout-river]

Thoughts on JJK chapter 266 (Spoilers)

I nearly cried...

We start with Megumi reiterating that he doesn't want to be saved. The last time we saw him he was down on the ground completely crushed. Here, Yuji managed to talk with him inside his domain, giving Megumi the opportunity to fully express himself and his feelings.

The "enough now" also has different connotations depending on the specific phrasing used in Japanese. I read a Twitter thread once that talked about it and how Megumi basically told Yuji that he, Yuji, didn't need to expand any more energy towards him, Megumi. That he could stop saving him because it was all right.

It was said right in the beginning that Megumi sees Yuji and Tsumiki as the same type of person he wants to protect. That was why he selfishly asked Gojo to help Yuji after he swallowed Sukuna's finger.

Megumi's thoughts on the life he wanted to give his sister are so bittersweet. He isn't centered in them so it's natural that without Tsumiki he doesn't know where he could go on his own.

And let's not forget, Tsumiki was the only true family Megumi had left and for one and a half years he tried to save her from her curse only to fail twice. His teenage years were dedicated to her so his mental descend is understandable.

Maki lived through the same loss and compared with her we explicitly see the differences in them. Maki had always wanted to live her life on her own with her own strength which meant that she had to leave Mai behind. When Mai died Maki was mentally able to go on with living without problems but unlike with Megumi's and Tsumiki's situation, Maki and Mai also had a deep conversation and understanding with each other in the end. Maki got to hear Mai's last thoughts and her last wish to destroy them all.

Megumi doesn't have any last conversation with Tsumiki so Yuji has to step in on that front. And he does so with fully acknowledging Megumi's pain and outlook on his continued life.

Sukuna uses Hollow Wicker Basket to counter Yuji's sure-hit and be able to fight him. He compensates the weaker CE output of HWB by keeping his handsign with his extra arms.

I checked, that hand sign is basically the same as Megumi's DE hand sign but with the left thumb up. Its interesting to think about the implications of that.

Sukuna also says the he can't use Gojo's version of getting his CT back up again after a DE because other parts of his brain are still damaged by UV.

We get an extended fight scene next but truth be told I did NOT care about the fight at that moment. Only Sukuna showing how angry he got with Yuji's "pity" was interesting. Other than that I wanted to get back to Megumi.

Bringing back that absolutely iconic panel of Megumi and replacing Gojo with Yuji 😭

That was the part where I stared at my giant monitor and got misty eyed. Especially with Yuji being so honest about how much he would miss Megumi even though he understands and would support him with ending his life.

Its interesting again how Gege chose to leave Yuji's scars for his close up panel. It's probably to show how Mahito's trauma he inflicted on him and everything else he went through didn't measure into his deepest desire to get his friend back.

Until now we also didn't see Megumi's eyes. Even in this panel we get a small Megumi from a memory he had with someone else. But...

Megumi immediately uses his shadows, those we haven't seen since Sukuna got his original body back.

But I also wonder about the implication here: was Sukuna's 10ST rendered non-functional because... he was in his original body? Or because the death of Mahoraga automatically deactivates the technique?

If it's the latter, than that means that with Megumi using his shadows here, he has his own version of his technique, one with his own shikigami who haven't been killed in the fight against Gojo.

The last part of this fight is about how Sukuna went against what he just thought a few minutes ago. He does use Gojo's technique of restarting his CT again. His nose is bleeding because of it though.

Then comes another part of the good guy's long thought out plan to bring Sukuna down. His finger strung up in an unknown location, ready to do... what? We'll see when the Shinjuku Showdown actually finishes soon.

We'll definitely get the merger arc next but there'll most likely be a few chapters of talk and plot in between as well.

But wait!

What is going on with Yuji missing 2 fingers now? We know that one Sukuna finger is still missing and we know that Rika ate at least part of either Sukuna or Yuji to get Sukuna's CT.

But is this finger in the last panel a new finger maybe? One made with Yuji's ring finger?

We'll find out eventually but for now, this was such a deeply emotional chapter...

[tansyuduri]

Merlin Loregasm Rewatch S1E3

Hi Everyone! Welcome to my rewatch of Merlin focusing on the lore. I am a giant nerd so pretty excited about this. THE MARK OF NIMUEH!

Gaius saying that people must not see this and they would panic is likley NOT just because this looks magical as hell. See we know from later episodes that while Gaius has mastered herb lore for many ailments and injuries and anatomy as well (This is also important as it also hints that Christianity has not spread and thus it being forbidden to cut up human bodies to learn how they work is not a thing.) He and thus likly Camalot in general still base medicine on the Humors System.

This system attributed most illness to an imbalance of the four bodily fluids or humors. (Worth looking up if you wanna know more) NOW since in the system everyone has a diferant balance of humors it could explain individual illnesses A LOT BETTER than many plagues (Why would everyone suddenly have the same imbalance of the Humors) This would usually lead to the idea that an individual's chance to get or die from the plage was due to preestablished susceptibility to the plague (explained later) Or the heavens being angry. WHY PLAUGE HAPPENS usually was attributed to Miasma (explained later in post) or the heavens being angry. AND YOU DON'T WANT PEOPLE THINKING THE HEAVENS ARE ANGRY.

Gaius is VERY ahead of his time in medicine by thinking that illness could be spread though air, food, or water later on. It hints that despite the humors system being in use medical understanding is more advanced in Camalot then it was most of the medieval ages. This is very possibly due to the fact that despite killing sorcerers (Or perhaps Gaius being an exception because he learned pre purge.)

Old pagan knowledge of herbs had not been crushed. AND what's more no one was going around murdering regular herbalists ETC suspecting they were evil magic users, Mostly because they had REAL magic users to hunt. Still the spread by water air or food we see mentioned later is WAY Ahead of its time.

Okay Gwen giving her father smoked pigeon as a seeminly every day meal perhaps continues my conept of Gwens father being a HIGHLY skilled blacksmith that serves the knights.

Meat was a rarity for the medieval commoner (We see this a lot in what Gaius and Merlin eat reguarly. Meat is a treat for them.) Pigeons were likely not eaten widely as anything but wild meat until the Norman period. Which means someone had to hunt and kill that bird. Which means this meat was bought or traded for. Which means Gwens family had the money for treats beyond the bare essentials (If we ignore history due to the show's anachronism we still have to compare this to Giaus and Merlin's usual food. (I know they talk about dresses later when he gets a really good job but we'll talk about that then. I'm also assuming this is everyday fare for them based on how they act.)

Okay its time to talk about how Gaius and Merlin talk about disease spreading through water or contact or food is HUGELY Advanced for its time. See from the forth centery BCE to the early 1800s CE Disease was a result of the humors, The anger of the Heavens, or Miasma (bad air emitting from rotten organic matter or other things.) This means that despite humorism being the main theory there is SOME understanding in the Merlin world that disease can be spread many ways. I really don't think they have germ theory though so I think they are just more advanced.

"He's got a grave Mental disease" AHHHH OKAY! So this means the Merlin world has a concept of Mental illness and that it's different from regular body illnesses. And this knowlage is common. Again this is HUGLY advanced for the time. So Humorism is the main theory! BUT They have concepts like infection, Mental illness, and an understanding disease can come from many places. All I can think is that this comes from having Magic in the world. And being able to actually study Anatomy. The people of the Merlin world understand the world better than most because they have more tools to study the world.

Okay so I love how Merlin plays fast and loose with magical creatures. (Especially because I can too writing my Merlin fics) I think the Afanc might be based PARTLY on the folklore Afanc but also had a bit of the Jewish Gollum in it with the born of clay thing. ANYHOW The Afanc is a creature from Welsh Mythology Its a lake monster that most closely resembles a crocadile, beaver, dwarf. It prayed on swimmers mostly or people who fell in water. There is a lot more but it is interesting that some Legends say King Arthur killed it!

Okay! So! see this candle!? This was a historical early method of keeping time. Each mark would be about an hour and as the candle burned down one would know the hours had passed! OPnce gunpower showed up they would sometimes put a bit in each hour as an alarm of sorts! I don't think this is a Gunpowder version!

So yeah this came from greek philosophy and was a thing for most of european history. The elements Water, Fire, Earth, and Air. were viewed as the building blocks of the world. Originaly air was viewed as Aether and filled the world in the absence of the other three. But in the Merlin world it is definitely Air as it's is later called wind. (Aether later came to represent heaven or the spirit as a 5th element)

These also related to Humorism discused before

Saying The Afanc born of earth and water can be killed with fire and air is one of two times the four elements get brought up in relation to magic in the series. (The other refers to a healing charm.)

Most other sorcerer created creatures we see can just be killed with fire and are not specifically corresponded to any element. This leads to the idea that this is kinda a rare thing. WHAT I do find interesting is that we KNOW the four elements correspond to certain types of healing in the Merlin universe (like I said other mention refers to a healing charm) And the Afanc is spreading magical disease. THAT might be why the elements are mentioned only here when it comes to magic-created creatures.

I find the wording here realy interesting because it talks about mirroring the spirit of life, not creating it. I'll have to contrast it with later talk about the spirit of life and death but this kinda implies even anciant sorcerers on their own can only MIRROR life not create it. Its not real life they make. Even Merlin's spell to create a butterfly at the end of the show means "to work, shape, bring into being or form" according to @catsconflictscopicsandchamomile My old English studying friend! (it is also used in OE translations of Genisis to mean make a life so it could mean Merlin is creating life and mirroring god, but if he could do that why not just bring Arthur back) SO it is likely this holds fast to the rule life cannot just be created!

HOLD ON. Is he just referring to Arthur's birth? It could just be Arthur's birth and his efforts through the purge, or has Nimueh pulled evil magic on Camelot post purge before?

[leasthaunted]

Episode 109: Let's Get Kraken

In the most recent episode, Cody and Garth dive into the deep waters to talk about Kraken! And in Garth's corner, he covers the art of figureheads (the sculptures of the front of ships)!

Enjoy the images discussed in the episode below (trigger warning: the last two images are of dead animals, there's no blood or obvious signs of distress but y'all deserve a warning nonetheless)! And please come join the episode discussion on the Least Haunted Discord!

Sorry for the late post, I was hunting for a lake monster!

The book Cody read for the episode: Monsters of the Sea by Richard Ellis.

The Swine Whale (left) and possibly Kraken (right) Carta Marina map of Scandinavia (1539).

Illustration by Denys de Montfort. Historie naturelle des Mollusques (1802).

In 1861 the French ship Alecton recovered part of a Giant Squid, Achiteuthus. This event would inspire Jules Verne when writing 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea.

A Scandinavian grapnel anchor, aka Krake, made from the top of a spruce tree.

"The Kraken" in 1981's Clash of The Titans, although a feat of stop motion animation by Ray Harryhausen, NOT A KRAKEN.

The Mollusk album by Ween. The inspiration for SpongeBob SquarePants according to show creator, Stephen Hillenburg.

They Might Be Giants album Apollo 18 limited edition Zoetrope vinyl! Only 240 were ever made, Cody has #195 and Garth has #196.

GARTH'S CORNER, GARTH'S CORNER, GARTH'S FIGUREHEAD CORNER!

Here are some of the figureheads mentioned in Garth’s Corner. Special props to the YouTube Channel Baltic Empire for “Carved works and Figureheads: A History of Ship Decorations.” Garth also credits Chris Riley for his article “The History of Ship Figureheads.”

Here’s a carving of an elk’s head found in Säkkijärvi, Finland. It was made between 1750 and 1,500 BCE and is thought to have been attached to the front of a boat.

Some examples of Greek Ships with eyes.

The Oseberg Ship, a lavish ship that was buried in Norway some time in the 800s CE.

A model of the 80-gun Naseby (1655) showing Oliver Cromwell on a horse.

A mezzotint etching by Robert Sayer “Hercules as Ship's Figurehead” (1788).

A modern ship, Neptune, a replica of a 17th century Spanish galleon, originally built for the film "Pirates" (1986).

And finally, here’s an awkward mermaid Garth saw online. Not sure where he found it but here she is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Trigger Warning Below ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dead Sperm Whale with squid scars on its skin.

Dying Architeuthis found in Toyama Bay, Japan 2015.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

WEHHHHHH 🥺

ABSHLDHUGSPdPBADFLBAFSBLIA SO MANY ALICE IN WONDERLAND REFERENCES IN THE RABBIT RUNRa cE, I’M SCREAMING 😭 You have no idea how well this content feeds me

The rabbit hopping, the flood that washes Alice away, the hedge maze, the teapots’ steam reminiscent of the caterpillar’s haze, the colorful tea set of the Mad Hatter and March Hare, checking the pocket watch for the time, the talking doorknob, the wonky clocks, growing and shrinking because of eating funky mushrooms… 🫠 A relay race was such a perfect way to showcase all these weird and wacky obstacles in a natural way!!

There were also lots of other traps we didn’t get to see, but even the mention of them are Alice in Wonderland references! Getting trapped in a giant teapot, getting jam on your nose… dshlcbasbyafoyafyfaeoibi aaaaaah, it’s all so cute…

THE GROOVIES TOO OML EPEL CRAWLING THROUGH THE TEENY TINY DOORS LIKE ALICE DID 🤡 ORTHO HOPPING AROUND LIKE THE WHITE RABBIT ON THE RUN AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HHHHHH  HH H HHHH H HH H H H 

Of course, the star of the show was Deuce!! chdvwidbdkwken NOT THE DELINWUENt TRYING TO CRUsH HIM?????? OTL The cauldron dropping on Deuce is also cjwvejxnskw so funny??? Both when he’s smol and when he’s lorg again… All his time in Track and Field Club paid off when he sprinted past everyone else and raced up the tower to toot his bugle in victory 😭 AnD THE WHiTE RAvbbiT GLASSEs SuIT HIMMMM

[kilfeur]

Aaravos est un géant et alors ? Vous savez ce qu'on dit, on doit prendre le taureau par les cornes. Là, faut prendre l'elfe par les cornes et plus il est grand, plus dure sera la chute !

So what if Aaravos is a giant? You know what they say, you've got to grab the bull by the horns. In this case, you have to take the elf by the horns, and the bigger he is, the harder he'll fall!

Le dragang (The dragang) :

[whencyclopedia]

Thomas Wolsey

Thomas Wolsey, Cardinal Archbishop of York (l. c. 1473-1530 CE) served as Lord Chancellor to Henry VIII of England (r. 1509-1547 CE) from around 1513 CE to 1529 CE. Wolsey rose to become the most powerful man in England after the king, he created the Chancery court, worked with some success at England's foreign policy, and famously built Hampton Court Palace near London. Unable to secure from the Pope the annulment of Henry's first marriage to Catherine of Aragon (1485-1536 CE), Wolsey fell out of favour with his friend and monarch. Accused of treason, the cardinal was already seriously ill when he died on his way to imprisonment and trial in November 1530 CE.

Early Life & Rise in the Church

Thomas Wolsey was born c. 1473 CE in Ipswich, the son of a butcher. He studied at university and became the chaplain to Henry VII of England (r. 1485-1509 CE), gaining invaluable experience of Tudor politics from his sponsor, the councillor Bishop Richard Fox (1448-1528 CE). However, it was under Henry VIII that Wolsey's career really took off. Indeed, after being appointed the royal almoner (giver of alms) in 1509 CE and benefitting from the new king surrounding himself with his own advisors rather than his father's, Wolsey enjoyed a meteoric rise to power from 1514 CE. He became the bishop of Lincoln in March 1514 CE and just a few months later, in September, he was appointed archbishop of York and so became the second most powerful church official in England.

Eager to be the top man in England but realising the current Archbishop of Canterbury was secure in his position, Wolsey bypassed him by directly approaching the Pope. In 1515 CE Wolsey became a cardinal and so he now outranked even the archbishop; he was truly a 'prince of the Church.' In 1518 CE Wolsey went one step higher and became a papal legate (legatus a latere), that is a representative of the Pope himself and entitled to make decisions on his behalf. Usually, legates were given their authority for a limited time only and for a specific purpose such as an international conference. In 1524 CE, Cardinal Wolsey was given legate powers for life. Thomas could now really believe that one day, he might even be in a position to grab the very top job of Pope.

Even before these momentous ecclesiastical progressions, and much more importantly for history, Wolsey had become Lord Chancellor around 1513 CE (or perhaps 1515 CE, historians do not agree on the date). In this position, he was, in effect, Henry VIII's sole minister, the very apex of the pyramid of political power in England. Thanks to his administrative skills and good friendship with the king, Wolsey became a giant political spider with a web of subordinates that stretched into every part of the kingdom.

As the historian S. Brigden summarises, Wolsey developed a very special working relationship with his mercurial monarch:

The Council was still consulted, but only after Wolsey and the king, in a kind of partnership, had determined policy. Wolsey would first 'move' Henry towards some idea; the King 'dreamed of it more and more'; and only then would the council be informed. Wolsey's influence seemed supreme, and his household, in its magnificence, looked a rival to the royal court. So completely did he see himself as alter rex, it was alleged, that he would say: 'The King and I would ye should do thus: the King and I do give you our hearty thanks.' His pride and splendour were legendary: crosses, pillars and poleaxes, hated symbols of his authority, were carried before him; earls and lords served him. (106)

Continue reading...

[thescarletnargacuga]

Art: @iamespecter

CHAPTER SEVEN

Racing AU!

Put on your dancing shoes! We're going to the disco! It's time to shake, shimmy, and drive the stress away at the brand new Drift Disco! Let's boogie!

WARNING: alcohol

Ragatha's curiosity got the better of her and she peeked through the blinds. She saw Pomni out on the lawn in front of the garage talking to Caine. By their expressions, it looked serious.

"Whatcha lookin at?" Gangle asked as she peeked through the blinds too. "OOO! What do you think they're talking about?" She was super invested in Caine and Pomni's relationship. It was the first potential romantic interest she'd seen go down in the digital world in quite some time.

"Doesn't look good, whatever it is." She sees Caine almost kneel on the grass, looking forlorn. Then he suddenly gets up and holds Pomni by the shoulders, talking frantically. "Man, I wish I could read lips."

"Ack! He's so close to herrrr! Kiss her, you fool!" Gangle giggled.

"What are you two doing?" Zooble wandered over.

"Pomni and Caine are going to kiss!" Gangle said loudly.

"Ew." Zooble said with distain but peeked out away.

"We having a party at the window?" Gummigoo asked and looked outside with the rest. "What's going on?"

Gangle was vibrating with excitement. "Look at them! SHE'S touching his shoulder!"

"Gangle, calm down. They're just talking." Zooble said.

"Not by the way he's looking at her." Gummigoo snickered. "That is the look of a smitten bloke if I've ever seen one."

Ragatha gasped. "Look at the way he's leaning on his cane! Why is he posed like that!?"

Gangle was coming undone , her ribbons less an organized spiral and more a tangled mess. "Come on! Kiss already!"

"That's enough for me." Zooble walked off to play pinball. "You ladies have fun."

Gummigoo didn't mind being one of the girls. They were fun to be around.

Jax was having a snack while watching the ones at the window lose their minds over Caine and Pomni. He didn't want to see that, so he hogged a whole couch with his long legs.

Kinger was on the floor of the lounge playing with his new bug friend. He didn't pay much mind to what was going on around him. No thoughts, only bug.

Those at the window scrambled. Pomni was rushing back and they had to make themselves look natural quickly. Gummigoo went to his favored recliner and picked up one of the nondescript magazines, pretending to read. Ragatha vaulted over the couch, not realizing Jax was laid out on it. She landed butt first on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. "Agh! What the [%$!#]!? Get off me!!"

Gangle joined Kinger on the floor, startling him. Kinger yeeted the giant centipede in his hands, and it came down in Ragatha's lap. She screamed and climbed up Jax to get away from it, slapping at her dress. "GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!!"

Kinger chased after his bug, Jax fought to get Ragatha off of him, and Gangle hid from the noise under the couch. Gummigoo just stared at his magazine, not realizing it was upside down. Zooble was hard ignoring all of this playing pinball.

Pomni came inside and leaned against the door as if to keep Caine out. Everything he'd said to her made her chest feel funny and she was freaking out. The chaos in the lounge was a welcome distraction. Everyone was starting to calm down as she approached.

Ragatha ended up in the fetal position in the floor, and Gangle was reaching out to her from under the couch. Jax rubbed his ear that Ragatha grabbed when she used him as a ladder. Gummigoo sat with a leg crossed while "reading".

"What happened?" Pomni looked to everyone, but settled on Ragatha.

"Cen-ce-cena-centi-" Ragatha struggled to speak as she shivered from her encounter with her phobia.

"Kinger threw his pet bug at Ragatha." Gummigoo spoke for her.

"I found him!" Kinger stood up from behind the couch with his centipede held high. "Don't run off like that, Carl." He gave his bug a little pat.

"Oh...why would he do that?" Pomni knew better than to try asking Kinger directly.

"He wouldn't have done that if gumdrop, coils and ragdoll here weren't in such a hurry to get away from the window." Jax ratted.

Gummigoo, Gangle and Ragatha froze in place.

"What?" Pomni turned to look at the window. The blonde were down but anyone could peek through....and see what was in the front lawn. Her fluster came back full force. "You- you were all spying on me!?"

"No, not all of us want to see you try to seduce Caine. Just those three." Jax thumbed at the ones avoiding eye contact with Pomni.

Pomni burned with embarrassment. "Well, I'm sorry you didn't see anything more interesting! What am I? Your entertainment? It's bad enough I'm being pressured to get information out of Caine, but he actually has feelings! This- he- ugh..." She trailed off, losing her words to the storm of confused thought in her head.

Ragatha up off the floor and brushed off her dress. "We're sorry, Pomni. We meant no harm by it, really. In fact, we were happy that Caine seems to really enjoy being around you. Not just for information, but that he might come around to actually communicating with us instead of just being our race host. No one's been close to him before, not that anyone has really wanted to be, but I digress..." She got closer. "You came inside in a hurry. Did things go okay out there?"

Pomni took a deep breath. "Yeah, he just...he actually flirted with me, it was..."

"Weird?" Asked Zooble.

"Gross?" Snickered Jax.

"Knock it off." Ragatha growled. Her voice softened when she spoke to Pomni again. "Look, you don't have to tell us everything, but if there's something on your mind, there's always me."

"And me." Gummigoo added.

"Me too." Gangle finally came out from under the couch.

Zooble looked back at Pomni. Their subtle head nod told Pomni she could come to them too.

Kinger had his centipede back in its jar. "You can always come see my collection." He looked genuinely happy to tell Pomni that.

Jax didn't say anything, but he didn't walk away either. He was annoyed by the amount of FRIENDSHIP in the room. "Well, this is boring." He grabbed Kinger's jar, opened it and tossed the contents at Ragatha.

~~~

Caine teleported into his workshop and squealed with joy. "Pomni, you've lit a creative spark in me that is burning out of control!" He danced with an unresponsive NPC, twirled it into other assets like bowling pins. "She's the most wonderful human I've ever met." He sighed, reveling in the soft feelings blooming in his chest. "So kind to me...even when I don't deserve it. I feel..." His gums felt warm. He held his teeth shut and kicked his feet as he curled in on himself. "AH! I don't know what I feel, but it's motivating! I could build a whole new track over night with this much energy!"

He looked around his workshop and held his jaw up with determination. "You know what, that's exactly what I'll do! It'll be fun and fresh! It'll be SO much fun! We'll need lights! So many lights. Hmm...I don't have enough lights. No matter! I'll use mirror balls! Oh, I'm so excited! I'm inspired to dance!" He spun around in the air, accidentally flinging a piece of track he was levitating.

Pieces of track and decoration flew to him as he mentally commanded their presence. Building the track layer by layer. The process took hours of concentration, but it was worth it for the results. An occasional puff from his pipe kept him focused.

"Needs a centerpiece." He mumbled to himself and looked at his NPC lineup, particularly his newer creations. "She'll do. Just needs a new story and wardrobe." With a snap of his fingers, new code was added.

"There we go. This is coming along nicely. Don't you agree, Bubble? ...Bubble?" Caine looked around and only now noticed his companion wasn't with him. He took off his hat and one of his eyeballs went inside to look around. "Bubble?" Confused, he scratched his head and checked his wacky watch. "Where'd you run off to?"

~~~

Despite the sore spot on her side from being trampled by Ragatha, Pomni felt mostly capable of sleep that night. The voice of Caine repeated his praises to her, echoing in her memory. Surely, she couldn't take him seriously. He flirted accidentally. That's it. But what about the way he looked at her? What about the teasing lilt in his voice? He...he couldn't really be attracted to her, could he? The back and forth manifestations of WHAT IFS lulled her to sleep.

She stood on the surface of water. It rippled everytime she took a step. She saw a reflection in the water connected to her, but she did not recognize the face. A young woman in her mid twenties with short dark hair and hazel eyes wearing jeans and a dark brown coat stared back at her.

"Who are you?" Pomni asked, but the reflection did not answer. It held up a missing persons poster from it's pocket. Instead of a name, she saw four letters. P W P I.

"What does that mean??" She got down on her knees, begging the reflection for an answer. The spectre was stoic, eyes vacant of emotion. "Answer me! Please!" Pomni brought her fist down on the water, but it felt like glass. Her hands tingled when she touched it. "Please..." A tear fell from her face and hit the smooth surface. It shattered as though shot by a bullet. Every shard of glass had a new image. Faces, places and things she did not know. But one image stood out. The red door. But this time, instead of an exit sign, it was branded with a company logo that read C&A. As she tried to reach for it, a voice called to her from the distance. "Wake up." The voice repeated itself, getting louder until she opened her eyes.

Bubble hovered inches from her face. "AAAAAH!" She threw her arms up, smacking Bubble away to the far corner of the room. "What- what are you DOING in here!? Get out of my room, you creep!"

Bubble righted themselves. "Calm yourself. I must speak with you."

"The [%$!#] you do! I said, GET OUT!!" Pomni threw a decorative alarm clock and the impact popped Bubble. Pomni groaned and fell back on her bed. She rubbed her temples, trying to remember the details of her dream before they faded. "I can't get a moment's peace in this place."

~~~

Bubble respawned out of bounds. "It seems this form is not trusted. How troublesome." They scanned the workshop for another NPC to potentially use until they came across Gummigoo and his bandit friends. They recognized the gator from the race. He was one of them despite being an NPC. "Perfect."

Caine teleported next to Bubble. "There you are! Come on, you have to see what I've built for tomorrow! It'll blow Pomni away!"

Bubble didn't answer, just followed Caine as he rambled about his latest work. The electric blue energy subtly flowed with the water tension that made of Bubble's physic. The typically blank, daft eyes were full of malice.

~~~

Ragatha was still apologizing to Pomni for yesterday when Caine popped in to announce the race. His suit was bedazzled in head to toe sequins, he sparkled like someone dunked him in glitter. "Goooood day, racers! I have a special treat for you all today! We're movin', groovin', and zoomin' our way through the brand new Drift Disco!" He snapped his fingers and loud music rattled the walls from the outside.

"A disco! That actually sounds fun!" Ragatha bounced on her toes, looking to Pomni for her thoughts.

Pomni forced a smile. "Yeah, it does." She didn't like the sound of the word DRIFT in the title.

Pomni's words were enough for Caine to backflip with excitement. "Then let's not waste time! Today's objective is to have fun! The track is waiting! Let's go, go, go!" He flew to Kinger and from him collected the whole group in one fell swoop, pushing them all out the door.

It was dark outside, but party lights and multiple giant mirror balls in the sky flashed colorful beams in every direction. It was epileptic disco tech madness. They were surrounded by partying NPCs. A single path was clear to the starting line by red velvet rope.

The track itself was made of colorful light up tiles. It curved sharply to the left immediately after the starting line and weaved into the crowd. Pomni could just make out small rises in the track but it seemed to mostly stay on the ground.

"Alright, my rambunctious raccoons!" They could barely hear Caine over the music. "Have fun and do be sure to greet the Princess of the Disco when you see her!"

"Princess?" Ragatha thought hopefully as she settled into her kart.

Jax rolled his eyes. "This was the best Caine could come up with? A seizure inducing drift track? Too easy."

Zooble already had a headache. "God, I want this to be over." They'd opt out but Gangle looked like they were excited and knew she'd be sad if they left. Plus they stuck around to keep Jax from bothering their girlfriend on the track.

Kinger saw a black light dragonfly zip by and was happy. Drift tracks weren't his strong suit so he was going to spend his time looking around.

Gummigoo was right behind Jax in the line up. He was determined to win this time. Drifting was easy on his nimble bike, but lacked traction due to the fewer number of tires. He'd have to be careful not to slide out on the tighter turns. He revved his bike, making Jax turn to look at him. "I'm coming for you, mate." He tried to be intimidating.

Jax smirked. "Promises, promises, gumdrop."

Gummigoo snorted, a slight tinge of color to his cheeks.

Pomni watched Caine flip through the air as he made his announcements. He settled in place when he made eye contact with her, and she heard his voice clearly as if he were right next to her. "Do have fun, my dear." She shivered. It was strange to see him so far away yet his voice so close, but his words were endearing. She gave him a thumbs up. Best she could do, knowing this was about to be a disaster.

"Racers! Start! Your! Engines!!" The crowd immediately around the starting line roared with cheers as they danced. Bubble held the start light and the countdown began.

First light.

Pomni could swear Bubble was looking right at her.

Second light.

"Ingnore them." She said to herself.

Third light.

"Here we go."

GREEN!!

The launch was perfect but Pomni immediately had to slow down for the curve. It was even tighter than it looked. The others went on ahead with varying degrees of success. She struggled to gain any kind of momentum as the track tightly weaved it's way through the endless crowd of NPCs.

~

"Drift master Jax takes the lead! But, watch out! Gummigoo is hot on his tail! I mean that literally, folks! He just got a chili pepper and is setting the dance floor on fire! Ragatha is next with a train! She's not letting the boys have all the fun! Gangle and Kinger are sliding their way through the psychedelic swirl with Zooble and Pomni bringing up the rear!" Caine's announcer booth was a DJ stage on this track. He changed the music depending on what was happening during the race.

Bubble hovered silently by his side.

~~~

The center point of the track was a giant roundabout around a raised platform with dancers and one very familiar NPC dancing solo on a smaller, even higher, platform in the center. Princess Loolilalu got a complete makeover. She still has her candy look but her poofy pink dress was now a bright disco jumpsuit that bell bottomed around tall platform boots.

Ragatha had gone into the roundabout with such gusto, she nearly crashed when she saw Loo. She didn't care where she was or what place she was it. The beautiful Princess Loo was there in front of her. Loo saw her and gave a winking smile. Ragatha screamed with delight and floored it out of the roundabout. She needed to hurry through the track again and get back to the roundabout.

Gummigoo recognized the Princess too. It was so weird to see her Royal Highness in a completely different setting, like meeting someone from another life or uncanny deja vu. He shook it from his mind. He needed to make good on his challenge to Jax and stay focused.

~

"We're half way through the first lap and so far, it's all Jax and Gummigoo! But a shell could change that at any time! Don't forget your items! Speaking of items, Pomni seems determined to hit every single bar of soap she comes across on the track! Not a winning strategy, but fun if you enjoy spinning like a top around the dance floor!" Caine laughed.

~

Pomni was so dizzy, she didn't know which direction she was facing anymore. The constant feeling of nausea churned her gut. The only thing keeping her from vomiting was her focus on avoiding the walls. She managed to successfully drift accidentally a few times, but ultimately she fell further and further behind due to how slow she had to take the majority of the turns. It just wasn't her race. No matter what item she used, unless the other racers gave up entirely, she was not getting out of last place.

Gummigoo, Jax and Ragatha were on the other end of the race spectrum. They drifted through the turns with ease, vying for 1st. Ragatha threw a pen, inking Jax in the face as he dropped a popper. Gummigoo avoided the popper by grinding his bike along the outer wall of a turn. He then used a cupcake to get ahead and avoid the shells he heard bouncing around behind him.

Ragatha spent her second lap in the roundabout watching Loo and lost ground, but she didn't care. The kiss Loo blew to her made her want to stop right there on the track and join the party on stage.

~

Caine covered his mic and leaned to Bubble. "Seems I may have been a bit too vague when I coded the Princess to be 'playful'. She's distracting my racers. Gotta admit though, I'm no better these days. I mean, have you seen Pomni?" He spun the record on the turn table and it turned into pov footage from Pomni's kart. He sighed and kicked his feet as he admired her focused face.

Bubble looked from Caine to Pomni and back. "How interesting."

"Isn't she? I wonder if she has ideas for tracks. OH! We could make an activity out of it!"

Bubble hummed in response and watched Caine watch Pomni.

~

The final stretch was neck and neck Gummigoo and Jax. Jax had resorted to trying to ram Gummigoo but the gator was too agile. Gummigoo got the upper hand when a cane materialized in his hand. He threw it right in Jax's face and crossed the finish line in 1st for the first time.

Gummigoo felt on top of the world. The crowd chanted his name as he stood in the winner's circle. It brought a tear to his eye, he felt important. Seen. He was given a gold record as a reward and shook hands with Caine who seemed mightily impressed that an NPC beat all his human racers.

Pomni joined him and he hugged her. "This is the greatest moment of my life. Thank you, for everything."

She hugged him back. "You don't have to thank me. All I did was help you get back in bounds."

He gave her one more squeeze for good measure before letting go. "You did so much more than that. You helped me find purpose. No matter how trivial this life is, it's a wonderful feeling."

Pomni smiled then turned to the others. "We should celebrate Gummigoo's first win!"

"Pomni, are you suggesting we have an afterparty? Because that's a wonderful idea!" He snapped his fingers and the garage was flooded with partying NPCs and flashing lights. The booming music outside now resonated inside.

Zooble groaned. "Only if you let us break out the silly juice."

"Silly juice?" Pomni questioned.

"It's a celebratory drink for parties only!" Caine answered. "It's disorienting and I don't allow it during normal race hours."

Pomni arched an eyebrow. "Do you mean alco-"

"SHHHH!" Gangle wrapped her ribbons around Pomni's head in panic to silence her.

Oblivious as to why Gangle acted out, Caine opened the door with a wave of his hand. "Enjoy yourselves!"

"Caine, can the Princess join the party too?" Ragatha pleaded.

"Why, she's already inside!" Caine pointed out the tall figure on the dance floor. Ragatha excitedly ran off to join her.

Zooble eyed the table covered in bottles and finger foods, and made a B-line for it, pulling Gangle along with them.

"Finally, some real fun." Jax snatched a drink from an NPC and chugged it. "Hey, long-nose. You. Me. Drinking contest."

Gummigoo could only guess what Jax was on about, but want one to back down from a challenge. "Gearing to lose again, are ya?" He adjusted his hat and nodded to Pomni as he joined Jax.

Kinger watched the black light dragonflies zip around overhead. "This is a good day." He followed them upstairs and lost himself in the lights and colors.

Pomni smiled seeing all her friends go off to have fun. This was the longest she's gone without stressing over where she was and how to leave since she got here. It was freeing. She felt a tap on her shoulder, Caine offered his hand. "Would you like to dance?"

"Oh, I'm not a good dancer." She rubbed her arm.

"Then let's dance terribly together."

She smirked. "You're persistent."

"I learn from the best." He winked.

She accepted his hand and he pulled her off her feet. They flew over the dance floor. She had no coordination in the air, but Caine did most of the work anyway, swinging and spinning her around to the music.

Beneath them, Ragatha made her way to her to Loo and they locked eyes. Loo smiled, "It's you!"

"It's me." Ragatha blushed, her heart racing like an overcharged kart.

Loo put a finger under Ragatha's chin. "Let's dance, cutie."

Ragatha thought she'd pass out, but her body moved on its own. Her eyes never left Loo.

~

Bubble watched from the corner of the room as Jax and Gummigoo went shot for shot, becoming inebriated to the point of forgetting why they were drinking in the first place. The juice made them feel light and giggly.

"You're all right, mate. A pain in the tail, but all right." Gummigoo slapped Jax on the back, nearly knocking him over.

"Don't say that- hic- too loud. The plebs will hear you." Jax downed another shot. "God, I wish we could have this stuff more often. Would make being here bearable."

"How long have you been here?"

"Years. Can't remember how many. I stopped counting a long time ago. But-" He started laughing. "Not like it matters. All that matters right now is drinking myself under this table and forgetting I exist for a while."

"It's really that rough for you humans to be here?"

"Give it time. You might understand when it's the same shtick day after day after day...anyway, stop harshing my buzz." He threw back another. Gummigoo joined him, drowning the last of his cares.

~

Caine and Pomni took a break from dancing with refreshments. With her fist sip of silly juice, she discovered how it got its name. Everything just seemed so silly. She couldn't help but laugh. Especially when she spotted Zooble and Gangle tangled together making out in the corner.

Caine looked to see what she was laughing at. He blushed and turned Pomni away. "Get a room!" He yelled at them over the music but only got a censored gesture from Zooble. They were lucky he was in a good mood, he just steered Pomni away from them. "I swear, give them an inch and they take a mile."

"Come on Caine, they're just having fun." Pomni slurred.

Caine looked concerned. "How many have you had?" He took the drink from her.

"Including that one? One." She burst into fits of giggles.

"Oh dear." He fought the urge to laugh along with her. "Let's get you some fresh air." He snapped and they were outside. It was silent compared to the rowdy party inside. The disco was gone, the default track was dark under a clear starry sky. "There we go." He took a deep breath. "How are you feeling, Pomni?"

"Weeeeeeeeeeee" She spun in place and wobbled around him.

"I don't know how to respond to that." He looked at the drink he took from her, and tossed the whole thing in his mouth. He cringed so hard, his body folded in on itself. "Holy-" He coughed up the cup. "Good gracious! Why hadn't anyone told me it was that strong!?"

Pomni wrapped her arms around Caine, pinning his arms to his sides. He froze. "Today was fun, Caine. Really, really fun."

He melted. Literally. He may as well been made of wax and she was a flame. "I'm glad, Pomni. So very glad you enjoyed yourself. It's what I live for, after all." His eyes stayed in place even as his body melted to a pile of puddy in her arms. He couldn't look away from her smile. Seeing her happy because of HIM made him feel like the most accomplished A.I. to ever exist. He wanted nothing more than to continue making her this happy for the rest of forever.

~

Gummigoo stumbled up the stairs towards his room. He wanted to display the gold record somewhere to always remind him of today. "Eyyy, King-man. Why are you up here by yourself?"

Kinger was covered in dragonflies that shimmered different colors in and out of black light. "I'm not." He reached out an offered a bug to Gummigoo.

"No thanks, mate. I've got a trophy to put away." He fumbled with the door handle. When it wouldn't open, he looked up to see Ragatha's face. "Whoops, hold on." He went a few doors down, just past Pomni's, and tried again. This time, the door opened easily for him and he entered his simple, green and yellow room. He put the record on the nightstand next to his bed and sighed happily. "What a day."

Teeth pierced deep into the back of his neck. A strong electric shock tore through his body. His cry of agony went unheard by the party just beyond his door.

~~~

Ch1 prev next

[aceofsnacks]

I did a tour of GO filming locations

It was around London, so I didn't get all of them, but the trip has been such a blast I just have to share the pics!

1. St James park: so many birds! And tourists. Which is good because the secret government agents wouldn't be able to feed so many ducks. I saw pelicans too—they were huge and pink and funny!!

2. Berkley Square (they actually didn't film anything here, but still): it's a giant construction site now. The only birds I spotted were parrots, so many of them, at least 5 nests, and loud too. No sane nightingale would ever come there, this much is true. But the song is referenced on one of the bench plaques <3

3. The Ritz / The Criterion: they both look nothing like the restaurant in the show (maybe the Criterion changed since 2019?) But both are fancy! When my rich uncle leaves me a giant inheritance and I find my 6000 year soulmate, I am so taking them out there, just you wait.

4. The Globe: this is my favourite theatre now!!!Macbeth was magnificent! And the standing tickets were so worth it: actors were down in the crowd and interacted with everyone! I got some of Macduff's blood on me! (Can't get this anywhere else :D) The Globe is closed in winter, so I'm already planning to buy tickets for next year.

5. The Bandstand and the-place-where-Gabriel-was-running: after marinating on Tumblr for so long I felt shocked seeing the word "bandstand" on a physical sign in the park. Like, put up a warning at least, my heart needs to be prepared?? The actual bandstand was at the same time smaller and bigger than I expected. Also those red bits—apparently they were there the whole time; I was imagining it black and white for some reason.

Also I met another crazy fan taking pictures of the bandstand in the rain, and I remember thinking, they have to be just as crazy as me xD

6. Tavistock square (where they switched bodies): the filming crew must have moved the benches around, because the square itself is so tiny and you can only match the scene background if you stand all the way back in the bushes. Surely there must have been a better way.

7. Crystal palace: just as I suspected, you can't see the dinosaurs from the bench because of all the trees in the way. The dinos are hilarious though, they look more like🗿and not like 🦖. In the show Warlock seems to have written a rude word on the teleosaurus info card, how dare he!

8. Tadfield (Hambleden, really): I thought, it's just two hours from London, easy day trip, in and out, what could go wrong. Cue to me stumbling over muddy fields in the dark surrounded by menacing sheep and regretting everything. The village is cute and English and has literally three streets and a post office and nothing else. And sheep.

9. Bonus round, my take on Aziraphale's bookshop xD "Seducing women? I think you've got the wrong shop!"

10. Bonus bonus round, food! (am I or am I not the ace of snacks after all?) An oyster recipe from Marcus Gavius Apicius' cookbook (Rome, 1c CE, stumbled upon it in the museum of Reading), and Eccles cakes (soooo sweet they don't calm people down but give them instant diabetes)

And that's it!! Thank you for reading all the way <3 Here is a secret snack 🍎