#henry being a pup even if he is a snake.

[mellsfern]

A very scale situation

Prompt: Henry is a wild Naga.

You didn't remember the first time you saw one, but you were enamored with reptiles. In general, they were always so cool and very badass. You got a college degree to just study them and get paid for doing what you love.

It was about a week ago that you and them brought one specimen the newly found, it was the discovery of the century. While you had funds, you and your teammates were on a trip to a very big forest, deep in the Amazonas. You knew better than to go unprotected and alone but you work buddies couldnt get their shit together faster so you left them. After a very unfortunate sum of events, you found out why it's better to not go on your own.

You were calmly studying a caiman from afar when you caught a glance of a rapid movement. You didn't get time to react, you were trapped in the tight grasp of a beast. You analyzed what you saw and knew you'd a Conda at your cause of death. One thing was to take note of, the scales were so brightly yellow and had a very peachy color into it. You at least were extermined by a new species, it'd be just like Madam curie, killed by a discovery.

A hand touched your head, you would feel at least the finger run through your hair.

"What the fuck." You whispered, you looked around a bit more and you looked gazes with something incredible.

A creature only known to fantasies and myths. Staring back at you was a blonde, feral eyed half man half snake. Their eyes were brown, their hair golden and their body was peachy and with a lot of golden/yellowish scales.

"What a cutie" left your mouth. Everyone could blame you however they wanted, this creature was handsome and your mouth won the race against your brain a long time ago, that's why you were praising your killer.

The creature got surprised, almost bashful. You swore you saw a greenish tint come to his face before he avoided your gaze. You were curious, the creature reacted to the compliment, was it possible they could communicate with you?

"Do you understand my words?" You asked.

The creature looked at you again. Not sure what to do, he had plans to eat a caiman but then he saw you, he always wandered in these forests and never saw something such as you. He was watching you for a while and you were such an interesting creature, he just had to catch you but after you looked him at the eyes and called them cute? It was over for him. He was called a lot of things from the other beings that lived in this section and cute was never a thing.

He was concentrated in you totally, he barely understood most of your words. He saw your kind before but never something like you, were you like the other humans too? If that were so, wouldn't you be screaming? He didn't spoke your tongue to a thee but understood some words here and there. So he decided to just nod, that would get you to keep talking to him and staying more.

"So you do! That's amazing, I can't believe you also speak my tongue. This is the best discovery ever! I can't wait to brag about this to my team. They are gonna be so jealous!!" You kept talking about it, you just couldn't believe your luck.

You almost didn't catch how the tongue of the creature kept going to your direction. It was obvious he was smelling you, and that brought you back to what should have been the priority.

"A...are you gonna... eat me?" Your voice trembled, your excitement kind of gone because death wasn't exactly on your plans in this trip.

The creature nodded, not realizing what were you actually saying.

Oh God, this was awful. You were actually going to die. You only could think of one thing, bargaining for your life.

"What I'd I offer you something else? I-I can give you anything, j-j-just don't eat me! I don't taste good and-"

You were interrupted with the hissing of a caiman, it was clear that the thing wanted a meal too. And was willing to fight for it.

The creature frowned, making a disgusted face. It used their tail to hit it away and used his body to carry you to the top of a tree and retrieved you into his arms for a change when he decided that you were safe.

"It... bad" The creature said. "It... " He opened his mouth, showing the fangs he carried and successfully scared the crap out of you. He closed his mouth and made a chomping sound "... to you"

You were confused yet again, you knew he just saved you but the way he talked and answered were telling you he didn't fully speak your language.

"Do you have someone with you?" You tried talking to it again. It just nodded again. "Do you have fur and the head of a tree?" Nod. Yep, they didn't understand.

You were rocking your mind again, trying to resolve how to ask it not to eat you. "Are...." you started, unsure how to proceed" you gonna" you made a chomping sound too, trying to copy his actions before"... me?"

It got freaked out, denying it aggressively moving his head side to side. And if to prove a point, they let you sit on a branch which could have killed you if you were afraid of heights but you tried to not pay attention to it, after that they grabbed with their hands part of their tail and gave it to you as if asking to be handled.

You knew this was a way of some snakes after getting accustomed with their owners to show acceptance or affection if you will. What you never would have known tho, it's that wild species would do this too. You caressed the scales, too tempted to not to.

He really didn't think this was going to affecting him that much. Bit the moment your touch was sensed through his scales he made a note to keep you with him, close forever. He could never lose these new feeling of the warmth and the fuzzy feeling his insides were making. He immediately enrolled himself around you again, hugging tight but letting your hands free.

"Touch... more" He then offered his hair, asking to be pet, he had a dog-like feeling to it. You let him have it, apparently he enjoyed this.

"Well, I suppose since I will have a few more years to leave and you like this we should work on a name for you since I plan on being in your presence more" You said, your hand never leaving their head, they found a way to wrap themselves around you while still having their torso on your lap so you can pet him.

"What about Henry?" They did not show any signs of paying attention far from the bliss they were experiencing so you just decided to go along with it.

Now, it'd be good to know how to get down and go back to the camping site.

Henry belongs to my beloved @homecomingvn.

[oh-boy-me]

All the brothers have obviously wanted a pet at some point (with their enthusiasm (at some point) of wanting a doggo) //what animal would each brother prefer and what does that say about their personality??

Lucifer:

Lucifer has a dog.  This much is canon.  And Cerberus is baby.

If he were to get another pet, though, would a dog be his top choice?  Probably not.  Lucifer is often not home, and when he is home he is very busy.  It’s not fair to the dog, or to his brothers who would inevitably have to take care of it in his stead.

So hear me out.  Lucifer.  With a chinchilla.  Two chinchillas, because they get lonely.

Chinchillas prefer to take care of themselves, but aren’t against some quality time with their owner.  Lucifer can have the best of both worlds.

He’s gonna spoil them so much too, chinchilla enclosure?  Sorry, did you mean the tiny village he has set up for them?  Their dust bath looks like a tiny sauna.  Expensive food.  More treats than he knows he should allow.  These rodents are in the lap of luxury.

What this says about him: Lucifer is a giver who enjoys spoiling his loved ones.  He also really likes fluffy things poof poof chinchilla floof enjoys simple luxury.

Mammon:

Mammon has a lot of attitude, so a pet with just as much attitude really (literally) speaks to him.

Something that he could consider his sidekick, something that will sit on his shoulder and annoy everyone but him.  Something that he could train to pickpocket be his little partner in crime.

That’s right.  A cockatiel.  A cockatoo would be nice too but he is not equipped to take care of a cockatoo.

He is prepared for the inevitable “which of you is smarter” jokes.  (He is smarter, thank you very much.)  He’s going to have the smartest pet, so his brothers can suck it.  He’d like to see Lucifer’s pets slip that grimm coin into Mammon’s back pocket.  That’s right.  He trained her to do that.

He and the bird are best friends, that much is clear as day.

What this says about him: Mammon is outgoing and values companionship.  He loves for someone to be excited to see him.

Leviathan:

Levi may have Henry 2.0 the goldfish, but reptiles are still where his heart truly lies.

As such, another snake would be his first choice to add to his pet arsenal.

Snakes literally just do their own thing, but they’ll also hang out with you and wear funny hats.

Levi also likes hiding in his room and sticks his tongue out frequently, and, y’know, his symbolic animal is a serpent, so he and snakes?  They get each other.

Sometimes Asmo leaves his pet with Levi for a while so it can swim around.

What this says about him: Leviathan prefers to stick to what is familiar to him.  Physically being together is more important to him than doing something together.

Satan:

Satan wants a cat with all his heart, and that really is the best pet for him.

Cats are very affectionate and need a lot of love, but they’re more independent than a dog, so Satan can go off and do Satan things without worrying about his kitty.

Lots of reading with a cat curled up on his lap.  Actually, no matter where he is in the House of Lamentation, the cat seems to be there.  They’re inseparable.

He’s also the de-facto babysitter of any and all animals in the house.  He just.  He loves them.

What this says about him: Satan values trust and mutual respect.  Like Levi, he prefers being together over doing together.

Asmodeus:

Asmo wants, no, needs a pet that can both keep his attention and look fabulous in photos with him.

And what better pet for that job than a noodle mustelid?  It can lay across his shoulders, and they’re so active and fun to watch!  He can feel the Devilgram traffic already.

His two most likely choices are a ferret, which is easier and nicer but also smells quite pungent, or a mink, which is much more exotic and has more color variation but can be very mean and bites REALLY hard.  (Check with your local laws to see if minks are even legal where you live, kiddos.)

Don’t misunderstand, though, just because Asmo chose his pet with clout in mind doesn’t mean that he doesn’t take really good care of and love it with all his heart.

What this says about him: Asmo looks after himself, but he doesn’t sacrifice others in the process.  He trends towards “everybody wins” situations.

Beelzebub:

Beel and a dog would vibe so well, I don’t think there was ever any question here.

He can sneak it food (or at least try; it’ll go to himself in the end), go on runs with it, play fight, CUDDLE?  Get this puppy a puppy of his own.

Big dogs are the best kind for him, something massive and fluffy that he can push his face into and engulf in bear hugs.

If Belphie wants to use his pup as a pillow then that’s totally ok too, just another reason why Beel would want a big dog.

What this says about him: Beel has a personality filled with sunshine and unconditional love.  He likes to feel needed and loved in return.

Belphegor:

Hamsters sleep all day and bite people who try to handle them poorly.  Belphegor is a hamster.

Really the choice for a hamster boils down to the fact that they’ll be awake at the same time.  He isn’t going to be able to wake up to play with a diurnal critter, so he’s not going to create a situation where neither he nor his pet is happy.

He could also have something like a stick bug, but you can’t watch a stick bug stuff seeds into its cheeks faster than Beel does.

When they’re both awake, he does enjoy holding and playing with the little guy.  It does still bite him at times, however.

What this says about him: Belphie is less inclined to accommodate for others than most of his brothers.  He prefers company that compliments his nature and schedule.

Masterlist

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

If it bites, curses, claws, and hisses, It’s very unwise to ask it for wishes.

Hey @r-rowancore remember that uwu fic I threw out but said I would rewrite? It may be a lot different than how I originally had it, but here it is:

There was only so much that Inkwell could do to help. Likewise, there was only so much that he wanted to do to help.

When Thomas went to him asking for his humanity back, the demon declined, stating that it was impossible for him to turn a being of ink into a being of flesh again. When he went to him asking if he could look human again, the demon again declined, stating that he didn’t have access to any pictures of how the mechanic had looked before his death, nor could he find his body, thus, he had no proper reference and could end up making him something that he was not.

And he gave a similar excuse when Tom asked for his voice back.

It smelled of bullshit if you asked him, with the demon’s exaggerated body language, annoying amount buffer words, refusal to look the wolf man in the eye while he spoke, he knew that he was lying through those daggers that he called his teeth.

He could make them human again, or at least make them look human enough again, Henry Stein was living proof of that. The Ink Demon just insisted on redrawing them as cartoons because misery loves company.

Instead of doing something like making him feel comfortable in his ink skin, the demon simply ‘updated’ his character sheet. He looked more like a wolf than a dog now, he was bigger in both size and stature, and his fur was starting to gray, especially around the muzzle.

Don’t get him wrong, he liked not having to look at Boris every time he looked in a mirror, but he hated everything about this and honestly, it was only a matter of time before he’d grow desperate enough to try to do something that even he thought was completely stupid:

Summoning a demon, a different demon from the ones he knew, one who would hopefully, help him out.

Thomas gathered the correct items for the ritual; four candles, one mask, some thick ink, and a place to call ...it. He didn’t know what would come from out of this, but if Buddy and Boris of all people could summon this thing enough times to dedicate a bathroom to doing it, then whoever or whatever he was going to call must’ve been safe enough for him to summon.

He had everything set up just the way he saw the alter in Buddy’s safe house bathroom; lit the candles, placed down the mask, and waited.

...

...This couldn’t be it, could it?

It couldn’t just be some weird decoration in a closed-off bathroom, like it or not, magic was real and so were demons! Something was supposed to happen! Did he screw it up? Lit the candles in the wrong order? Did he not do it at the right time? What was it?!

Oh right, he wasn’t in the studio anymore.

He wasn’t in a “whimsical” cartoon world made entirely by the machine and its ink, the ritual dedicated to whatever Buddy summoned might’ve worked back in the studio, but just like how a normal human being couldn’t take down a living park ride with soup cans, the alter where it was had been just as effective as spraying silly string in the shape of a star on the ground.

The cursed wolf let out an annoyed huff and started to slunk out of the basement, he would be cussing up a storm if he could, but he didn’t have a voice.

CRASH!

As he was halfway up the stairs, he heard a loud noise coming from the failed ritual. He turned around and saw something large flailing on the floor.

He cautiously descended back down and realized that he had indeed fucked up; the entity he had summoned had a humanoid upper half, the lower half of a fish, and more importantly was struggling to breathe.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

The cursed mechanic tried to carry the deep sea demon bridal style as the slippery creature flailed harder and started to claw at him and bite him. No wonder the alter was set up in the bathroom, this thing needed water!

“Gad fi fynd!” Between futile gasps for breath, the creature shouted at him in a voice that he could swear was like someone taking a bunch of instruments and trying to use them to mimic human speech. “Dydw i ddim yn mynd i fod yn rhan o'ch cynlluniau, llaw dde Joey Drew!”

Tom didn’t understand a word out of the creature’s mouth aside from the name he said, nor did he think of that at this time. Desperate to keep the angry sea demon alive, when it has struggled free from his grasp, Tom seized the being by his tail and started dragging him up the stairs that way. He considered pulling him up by the hair at first but that only made his mouth closer to his hands.

The merman continued to thrash against his captor, now hissing at him like a snake and barring a mouth full of long, sharp teeth that the creature had too many of for comfort, especially now that they were stained with Tom’s ink.

But the wolf wasn’t impressed by the demon’s attempt at intimidation, he could hiss and claw all he wanted but he was not dealing with Inkwell’s refusal to help him, or having to explain to Henry why there was a dead demonic fish on the floor!

After the longest one and a half minutes of both of their lives, the fish demon was unceremoniously dumped into the bathtub, and the water was turned on. In spite of the awkward positioning, the demon squeezed himself into the end of the tub with the facet, it was an uncomfortable position, but the running water over his gills relaxed him a bit.

Both parties let out a sigh of relief as the demon waited for the tub to fill up and Tom went back into the basement to fetch a notepad, a pencil, and an english-to-welsh dictionary.

---

The latter of the three items became the hardest one to find, and by the time he did and got back to his ‘guest’ the sea demon looked like he was both anxious and bored out of his mind, his long hair pooling in the tub like a cloud and his claws still tapping away on the side of the bathtub. He was not happy to see him again per se, but at least he didn’t look like he was going to bite him again.

Helo. Tom flipped through the dictionary, found the words he was looking for, wrote them down and showed the creature. Allwch chi ddeall hyn?

The demon rolled his eyes and spoke in that voice made of instruments again, not sounding like a human being in the slightest, but it was easy for him to make out the creature’s words, almost like he listening to a song with the lyrics replaced by another instrument. Tom could already see Wally making a joke about ‘how he heard of people with musical accents before, but this one takes the cake!’.

“I can understand and speak English fluently, Thomas Conner.” He stated coldly. “There’s no need to patronize me or waste both of our time with that book.”

How do you know my name? He wrote down, And how did you know Joey?

The sea demon paused for a bit, seeming as if he was trying to predict the wolf’s reaction to his answer before saying it out loud.

“The two of you are very... infamous down there...” He folded his arms behind his back and tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible. “For more reasons than you think.”

Why did Buddy summon you?

The demon frowned at the question. “Who’s ‘Buddy’?” He then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, the reasons why my former summoners have called me are not to be freely discussed with other people. And before you ask how he knew to summon me, he learned from his own story.”

Tom tore out the question he had and wrote a new one:

What is your name?

“Forgive me, but I am not interested in any more small talk, and I doubt you summoned me just for the sake of friendly conversation. You called me here to help you with something, haven’t you?”

Tom huffed and reluctantly nodded. Yes; Can you make me human again?

“Can I remake you from ink and magic into a being of flesh and bone?” He tapped on his fangs and smiled in a way that made the mechanic wolf’s hackles rise. “Eventually, but yes.”

His ears perked up instantly, hastily, he started scribbling down his (hopefully) final question.

Well, what are you waiting for?!

“Materials, tools, and payment.” The demon shifted in the tub to make himself more comfortable, folding his arms behind his head as if he was reclining in a hammock, his hair fanning out behind him. “As you can see, I’m not exactly in the position to fetch the former two, and you should know that nothing comes without the latter.”

What do you need?

“Just your standard sculpting tools, some time to work on the thing, your cooperation as working with living canvases other than myself can be difficult, and...” The sea demon’s chilling toothy smile resurfaced. “...Meat.”

Tom hesitated, it took him a while to get the single word onto paper.

Meat?

“Not just any meat. Raw meat, meat that’s so freshly killed that the blood’s still warm. The amount can be debated if you were unsatisfied with your human body’s height and or its weight.” He waved off before smiling again. “And unless you want to become a sentient beast, it had better be human meat. You know the old saying, right? ‘You are what you eat’? Well, it can be rather literal.”

He looked like he was biting back laughter at Tom’s horrified expression.

“Don’t give me that look, fy pup blaidd, your hands are already stained with the blood of others, it makes no difference to the eyes of heaven and hell if you start staining your teeth as well.”

NO!

“No?” The mechanic was almost infuriated by how genuinely confused the demon sounded, as if he was surprised that he’d be disgusted by suggesting cannibalism, but luckily for him, he merely shrugged off Tom’s refusal. “Suit yourself then.”

He was just about to leave the bathroom before the siren spoke again.

“But it would be such a shame if there wasn’t anything at all I could help you out with, I hate it when my time is wasted. Tell me, would you like to speak again?”

He froze there, and looked back with an eyebrow raised.

“I see that got your attention.” The merman smugly remarked. “And as it’s a much smaller job than say, completely rebuilding you as a different being altogether, it will not only be a faster job but also cost you a lot less. Why, I won’t even need any materials or tools other than your cooperation!”

I’m interested...

“Good! Now, all you need to do is come closer.”

He approached the bathtub.

“Closer... Yes, just kneel down so we’re directly face to face...” The siren crooned while looking as welcoming as an empty grave. “...This will only hurt like Hell for a little bit.”

Tom instantly regretted his action, the siren lunged at him, his arms wrapping around him and holding his own down. With his teeth and tongue, the sea demon pried the wolf’s mouth open and purged a fluid that felt like boiling oil down his throat.

With newfound vigor forged from the sheer disgust of the situation, he pried the creature off of him and flung him at the bathroom wall, coughing and sputtering out the vile fluid before confronting the sea beast who crawled back into the bathtub.

“WHAWT THE FUCK IWS YOUW PWOBWEM?”

He slapped his hands over his snout in sheer shock and embarrassment.

“...Pardon?” The sea monster was very obviously trying very hard not to laugh, and failing. “I didn’t quite get that, Tommy~.”

Tom’s cheeks were flushed gray, his fists were clenched and steam was coming out of his ears, he didn’t want to speak ever again! His new voice sounded nothing like his old one! It sounded more like a kid’s voice if the kid inhaled helium! And don’t get him started on the new speech pattern he was cursed with. He’d use the notebook, but sadly, it looked like it was destroyed by water in the struggle.

“Why did uwu duwu thiws tuwu me uwu bastawd?”

“This was unintentional, truly. But this is so much better than what I had planned!” The demon ignored the wolf’s growling as he pinched his cheek. “Awen't uwu juwst the cutest wittwe whewp!”

“Knock iwt off, uwu sea whowe!” He swatted the hand off of his face. “I wawnt my voice tuwu be nowmaw!”

“Well, we don’t always get what we want now, do we?”

“But, but uwu pwomised uwu'd get me my voice bawck!”

“Now that’s just a bold-faced lie. I said I’d help you speak again, I never once said that I’d give you your old voice.”

“Okay, wisten hewe.” He reached into the bathtub and grabbed a hold of the tub stopper. “If uwu change my voice bawck, i... I'ww give uwu whatevew uwu wawnt. But if uwu down't, i'ww puww the pwug wight hewe awnd now!”

“Do it, coward.” The demon looked the wolf dead in the eyes. “I dare you.”

He didn’t even react when Tom yanked the stopper out and put it in the sink, well out of the siren’s reach.

“At least now you’re a man of your word.” The merman sighed as the water slowly drained from the tub. “Better late than never I suppose.”

He laid down in the still draining tub. At first, Tom thought this was an attempt to keep his gills wet for just a little bit longer, but then he saw the water turn black as it went down the drain and the musician said his last words to the wolf, not in a voice made out of instruments, but his own, human voice.

“See you again soon, Conner.”

“SAMMY WAWWENCE?!”

He called out in shock as he frantically reached into the now quickly draining tub. But no matter how desperately he dug his claws in there, he found nothing but water.

The remaining liquid went down the drain, leaving nothing but a few clear puddles on the tub’s floor and the now-verbal wolf alone with his thoughts.

“Oh my fucking god... Whawt am i going tuwu teww Awwison awnd Henwy?!”

[emmakillianfan]

Music of the Heart Chapter 56

So I am guessing many thought I was giving up on this, but here is almost the final chapter. It’s a long one, as it was originally going to be two but I got carried away. I could make my excuses of another job change, a move, and three weeks without internet, but I won’t. If and when I finish my paper for my class I am taking this fall, I’ll update my other two stories too. Enjoy! Previous Chapters: FF.net and AO3

Portland, Maine was not the largest town in the world and its entertainment scene was somewhat lacking. Still the annual Christmas Tree lighting brought in a huge crowd on Thanksgiving night with a few very special musical guests headlining the event. Elsa knew that it was a special moment for her and her career, though she was sad her sister didn’t want to take the stage with her and that Liam had to stay behind in Storybrooke after the altercation with his youngest brother. Thankfully Anna and Kristoff had traveled with her and she would be home in bed in just a few hours.

“I think she’s up to something,” Anna said, sitting in the canvas chair that someone had placed in the backstage area. “I can just sense it you know. I think it’s the hormones.”

Elsa stared at her sister’s reflection in the mirror and then back at herself as she dabbed on a bit more of the pink lip gloss. “You think Ingrid’s plotting?”

“Not Aunt Ingrid,” the younger sister said in exasperation. “Emma. Didn’t you notice during lunch today? She was kind of there but not there. I think she is planning something. When’s Killian’s birthday? Maybe it’s a party. You know like a surprise. I love surprise parties.”

Elsa closed her eyes. “I don’t think it’s that. She’s not acting that weird.” Elsa appreciated the friendship she had with her manager and friend, but she hated the idea of gossiping.

“You just aren’t observant. I am.” Her sister’s sweater stretched across her quite noticeable baby bump, hands on either side of it. “Number one. She was making a list. I couldn’t quite see it to read it, but it was definitely a list.”

“She’s hosting a huge thanksgiving dinner tonight. You think that might have something to do with it?”

“She was doodling hearts on it.” Anna laced her fingers together in front of her. “And then there were the looks.”

“I know I’m going to regret this,” Elsa said, running her brush through her long blonde hair. “But what looks?”

Cocking her head to the side with a satisfied smile, Anna wrinkled her nose. “The ones they kept exchanging. Killian and Emma. When someone mentioned what their plans were for Friday they touched hands and smiled at each other. Then Emma asked Mary Margaret if she and David would mind watching Henry Friday night. And then someone asked about their wedding plans and Killian actually coughed. And Emma said something about other priorities right now.”

“Of course they have other priorities. Killian’s brothers were in the hospital for that fight and threatened with jail. So he’s got one sleeping on his boat and the other in need of a babysitter since I’m here. Emma’s ex is getting married this weekend. Killian’s father is dying and he’s the only one who can…”

“But,” Anna interrupted triumphantly. “Why was Killian asking Regina what time the courthouse opened? You want to know what I think? I think they are eloping.” She scrunched up her nose. “Wait. Is it eloping if they go to city hall? Don’t you have to go somewhere to elope? Vegas? So maybe it’s not an elopement. Maybe it’s a…I don’t know what you would call it.”

“I don’t care what we call it. Why would they do that?” The brush clattered to the counter without so much as a flinch from either sister.

Anna looked defensive, squaring off her shoulders. “I think it’s romantic.” She gave a quick wave to her husband standing near the security team lead for the event. “I think I need to go take my seat. Don’t worry. We’ll be watching you.” The rust haired woman laughed then. “That sounded creepier than I meant it to sound. I don’t mean we’ll be watching you like we’re keeping track or something. No, I just meant that we’ll be watching you like we want to see you shine up there.”

Elsa smiled sweetly and braved the idea of smeared lip gloss to kiss her sister’s cheek. “I understand, Anna. And thank you.”

***AAA***

Gingerly tugging back the curtain over the sink, Emma looked across the dark dock toward the boat where Killian’s younger brother was staying the night again. She had not exactly met him yet, having spent most of the day playing hostess to their little holiday gathering. The house was nearly empty now with everyone heading off in various directions except their core group of friends besides Elsa and Anna.

“So I was thinking I might sleep at Elsa and Liam’s condo tonight,” Killian said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back to collide with him. “Bad luck to see the bride before the wedding and all that. But then it occurred to me that it was unfair to leave you here with my younger brother on the boat. Perhaps I should stay out there with him.”

She rubbed her cheek against his and covered his arm with her own, the other snaking back to let her fingers dive into his thick, dark, hair. “Superstitious?”

“Well, if you must know…” His nose skimmed the shell of her ear, breath and voice warm and low. “I just don’t wish anything to spoil our day, my love.”

She wanted to close her eyes and sink into his embrace, forget all their troubles for a moment and simply get lost in his soft touches and naughty little suggestions in her ear. For the life of her, she wasn’t sure she could stand a night away from him even if he was being adorable about it all. The practical side of her looked over where Ruby seemed to be holding court, sipping on wine and talking to Mary Margaret about hot yoga and losing pregnancy weight. When had Ruby become such an expert on postnatal care? Granny was complaining rather loudly that all this new way of doing things was not at all better than the classics. Everyone seemed relaxed though, eyes hooded with the warmth of the fire in the fireplace and full stomachs from what had been a massive dinner.

“You look like you’re up to something,” Henry announced, carrying a glass that had not been picked up during the initial sweep earlier. “Just so you know, Ruby noticed and has been asking me.”

Emma flushed, grabbing the glass out of her son’s hand and turning back to the sink. From the corner of her eye she could see Killian clear his throat and place a guiding hand on Henry’s shoulder. “That lass is obsessed with conspiracy theories. Don’t tell me that she has convinced you that we are mutant space aliens.”

“No,” Henry hedged, allowing his future stepfather to turn him back toward the living room. “But you guys did say you wanted to talk to me tonight. And you keep sneaking off and whispering to each other.”

Killian raised his eyebrows high at the list of observations. “You’re quite an astute young man, but why don’t you go see if the pup is still appreciating his temporary spot?”

“Are you getting rid of me?”

“Not at all,” Killian said with all seriousness. “I just wished to protect the office upstairs from the hijinks of that pup.”

Offering no new protests, Henry ran up the stairs, his sneakers clomping loudly as he went. Emma, who had finished handwashing the glass, turned to watch him. “He’ll be excited, or happy, or I don’t know,” she noted, more to herself than to Killian. “I hate keeping secrets.”

“Aye, so do I, love, but it is necessary. If we tell all our lovely family and friends of our little plan, they will surely want to have a say in it. And our private ceremony will take on a new color with the courthouse full of celebrants. Let them keep planning the big event. Tomorrow is our day.”

She cupped a hand on his cheek and kissed him lightly. “I love you, but our friends will kill us if they find out.”

“Then we should quit talking about it with them only feet away.” Leaning forward to kiss her again, he pulled back and then in again to add a third kiss. She laughed against him.

“You know if Mary Margaret and Ruby find out, I’m totally blaming you. This was not my idea. I am being forced.” She pulled the dish towel off of his shoulder and tossed it toward the counter. “You should be glad that I love you so much that I’m willing to do this.”

“Every day,” he grinned, capturing the hand still on his cheek and jaw and drawing it forward. He placed his lips against her palm and then lowered their hands down between them. “I am grateful every day for your love.”

They tried to hide their grins as they joined the others, Killian topping off glasses of wine and laughing at Ruby’s latest antics being retold. Emma nudged in next to Mary Margaret, handing her pregnant friend a hot cocoa instead of the wine. By the time Killian joined Emma on the sofa, everyone seemed relaxed and paired off with arms and legs entwined and drowsy heads resting on shoulders. Even Granny was settled in the largest of the chairs and sipping happily as she chimed in with an opinion every now and then. She went to check on Henry only to find him texting with Violet to which she informed Emma that it was far too soon for the boy to be that serious about a girl.

“I knew this was horrible mistake,” the older Liam said, looking appropriately disgusted as he entered the room from upstairs. “You fill us with all that food and then turn our stomachs with all that love and affection.”

“You are just jealous that you can’t canoodle with Elsa being halfway across the state,” Ruby stated insightfully, her own legs thrown over Graham’s lap and her eyes heavy. “I’d invite you over here, but I’m not interested in a threesome right now. Why don’t you go sit with Granny? She’s had enough wine now that she won’t bite.”

Liam made a big show of perching himself on the arm of the chair where Granny had taken up residence and throwing and arm around her as he placed a loud but sweet kiss against her cheek. “Lovely company is so hard to come by,” he said flirtatiously as Granny half shoved him backwards.

“Ooops,” Ruby announced, recrossing her legs. “I might have been wrong. Watch out, Liam. Granny does have fangs.”

Graham’s low warning to his date sent them all laughing as Liam collapsed dramatically into the chair closest to the fire and pulled his guitar into his lap. “I suppose I could manage to play a little.”

“If you practice, I’m quite sure you’ll get better,” Killian teased good naturedly, forgoing a drink to link his hand with Emma’s. He hoped his caressing of her ring finger was not too big of a sign that something was planned for the next day. She would look at him and smile sweetly, dropping her head to his shoulder and sometimes even burying herself into his side.

“My brother is both a teacher and a comedian,” Liam groused, adjusting the strap over himself. “I thought that Anastasia and Will were planning to come over too?”

“Perhaps they wanted some privacy,” Graham suggested, his bottle of water standing out among the drinkers. “Will is not too happy to share a meal with a man in law enforcement.”

“He’s not too terrible of a bloke and I don’t think he has any outstanding warrants,” Killian said, surprising even his brother in defense of a guy who had been in jail twice for petty theft. “And I daresay that many of us in this very room have had one or two run ins with the sheriff, even if just a traffic offense.”

“I haven’t,” David announced proudly, ducking as Ruby threw a pillow in his direction. “Well, I haven’t.”

“And that’s why I love you,” Mary Margaret laughed, grabbing the now discarded pillow and putting it behind her back. “You don’t make me feel like such a goody two shoes.” It had been a longstanding joke between the three friends that Mary Margaret was far more innocent than the others. Ruby often put sister in front of her strongly Catholic sounding name to refer to her as a nun. So to hear her call someone out on being more innocent than she was made them all giggle and chortle at the irony.

Liam played a bit more, letting the songs linger in the air and each of the guests sang along despite some off key voices and questions about lyrics. By the time Henry joined them, everyone was trying to outperform the others. Emma squeezed her son in between herself and Killian, mussing his hair and pinching his cheek when he warbled out part of a song that he totally shouldn’t have known.

As the last bit of daylight lingered into a cloudy and drizzly twilight, Killian carried a bit of dinner down to their other brother and the guests tuned the television into the event in Portland to catch a glimpse of Elsa. Emma dug back out the desserts and offered up slices of pies and cakes to fill already full stomachs as they watched a group of dancers perform on a smallish stage that was made smaller by oversized presents and elves that were supposed to glow with lights.

“You do realize the purpose of setting these items out was so people could serve themselves,” Granny said to Emma. “And you’re fooling no one by the way.”

Emma sliced through the still warm pie. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Granny inspected the slice that Emma gave her and must have found it satisfactory. “You and Killian were angels to host everyone here. The loft where the newlyweds live is much too small, and while my diner is larger it’s a tad impersonal.” Emma let out a sigh of relief that the woman’s questioning seemed to be distracted. She should have known better. “But you two are positively giddy like newlyweds. So do you want to tell me why? I am the one who introduced you and tried to get you to date. I think I deserve to know if perhaps we’ve moved up the wedding.”

If the blush on Emma’s face wasn’t enough to tell everyone that she was indeed guilty of hiding something, the way her hand shook as she sliced another piece of pie was clearly evidence. “I don’t know…”

“You are a horrible liar, which is a good thing, but nonetheless. So when is the big day?” Granny leaned her soft green covered torso over the counter and lowered her voice. “Don’t tell me you’re knocked up too?”

Emma shook her head and lowered the knife. “We wanted to get married to make sure everything was…you know with the surgery and all…I mean it’s not guaranteed or a done deal, but I just…and he…”

Granny must have translated Emma’s ramble that wasn’t like her normally blunt self. “I was hoping to cater your reception and sit front and center to watch you say your vows. But I understand. At least tell me you’re going to have a new dress. Ruby will throw one of her fits if you walk down the aisle in something you’ve worn a million times.”

“We haven’t really had time,” Emma protested. “And the dress doesn’t matter.”

There was a gentleness to Granny’s annoyed scoff that thankfully didn’t arouse any attention from the others. “Tomorrow morning. First thing. You and I are going to the store and buying you a damn dress. I won’t have you looking like you’re headed to work on your wedding day.”

Emma knew better than to protest and gave a short nod. “I guess that would…”

“And you’re going to have a honeymoon, right?” The woman was clearly already going through a check list. “I mean you can’t get married and then just come back here to help Henry with his homework and take that dog for a walk.”

“With Killian’s little brother here at the boat and Neal’s wedding this weekend, we can’t really do that now. But we will. We’re still…”

“Henry’ll come stay with me and Ruby. And we’ll take him to that Neal’s wedding. Nope, it’s just tacky for your honeymoon to be nothing more than coming back here as wonderful as this house is and all. And as for that brother of his, I’ll see what I can do. What do you say that we find that boy a room at the bed and breakfast? Surely someone will be checking out by then. If not, I’ll open up that room that Ruby’s been trying to refashion. It’ll be fine. Now I know you don’t want anyone to know so a reception is out. What about a cake though? You have to cut a wedding cake.”

“Granny, I…”

The older woman snapped her fingers and dug her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll call my head cook. He’ll be baking early in the morning. I’ll get him to concoct some little sheet cake or something for you two.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Hush,” the woman said, pulling the phone up to her ear. “I insist. And you know me. I’m too old and set in my ways to change my mind. You’re essentially like family and I’m not half the control freak planner that Mary Margaret can be in these situations. You get these pies and cakes cut and I’ll get back to you about flowers and everything else.” She ambled toward the door to the deck, clearly seeking a bit of privacy from being overheard. “Oh and Emma,” she said, rotating the phone so she wasn’t speaking directly into it. “Congratulations.”

***AAA***

The party finally seemed to disperse after the television performance and Granny’s insistence that they had all intruded long enough. Nobody even noticed the wink she threw to Emma and the hug she gave Killian before reminding him that he needed to be out of the house by midnight if he was going to keep with that tradition. The man had smiled widely at her muted suggestion and told her he would go just as soon as they had their chat with Henry. Granny had appreciated that and even thought to herself that it was quite sweet that Emma and Henry would spend Emma’s last night as a single woman together.

“You’re up to something,” Ruby said, shrugging out of her coat after a long and private goodbye with Graham. Granny was mildly surprised that her granddaughter had not gone back to his place. But the question was clearly plaguing her. “Are you going to tell me or do I have to…”

“Threats are not necessary and completely useless.”

“It’s something about Emma, right?” Ruby continued, kicking off her heels next to the door and padding her way into the shared living space in the diner and bed and breakfast’s private quarters. “Is something wrong? Killian’s going to have that surgery, isn’t he? He’s probably feeling like he’s got to be the hero for his father.” She made a sour look. “I am not surprised. Emma’s probably freaking out.”

“You jump to conclusions,” Granny muttered, flipping the slick pages of her cookbook. “Did you taste that pie that Killian made? It practically melted in my mouth. Do you think he would share the recipe with me? I think Leroy would particularly like it. I’ll ask Henry when he spends the weekend with us.”

There was a moment of silence before Ruby ducked under the counter of the kitchen bar and pulled out a bottle of aged whiskey that Granny kept there for medicinal purposes. “So what’s going on then?” she asked, more to herself. “They were acting strange. Not bad strange, mind you. But just really affectionate.” She hummed under her breath as she poured some amber liquid into a glass. Looking at it critically she poured a bit more. “Emma was drinking tonight so she’s not pregnant. And then…wait. Did you say that Henry’s spending the weekend with us? Why?”

“I thought it might be easier if we took Henry to his father’s wedding. It’ll give Emma and Killian some time alone without having to plaster on smiles and pretend to like Neal, Gold, and the whole bunch.”

“You do realize you’re making yourself sound more and more guilty, right? So let’s see here. We have you, Emma, and Killian whispering. I saw Emma looking like she could burst into song like a Disney movie. Mary Margaret suggested something about their wedding and Emma didn’t freak out about it. Killian…You…What are you looking at…” Ruby lunged toward the older woman and swiped the book off of her lap. “You’re looking at wedding cake recipes?”

“There is a wedding this weekend,” the woman said defensively. “I’m just getting prepared.”

“You’re not catering it,” Ruby reminded her not so gently. “So…wait, you were talking to Emma. She hugged you. She never hugs you. I mean she loves you and all, but she never hugs you. Did she…She’s freaking eloping, isn’t she?”

“Ruby, dear, I don’t think it is right for me to spill secrets.” The woman snatched the cookbook back from her granddaughter. But that hardly stopped the younger woman’s mind from racing. “Ruby, please.”

Waving her hands as if trying to stop the older woman from instructing her on what to think, Ruby considered her information again. “That’s it, isn’t it? But why? Okay, I don’t need to know why. Why won’t they tell me? I’m half a mind to call her up and give her…”

The older woman removed her wire rimmed glasses with a sad sort of expression. “Ruby, don’t ruin this for them. They made the decision to do it this way. Don’t ruin that for them. Let them do this. Let them get married. From what she said, they are planning the larger wedding this spring. It’ll be beautiful and include everyone.”

Looking slightly defeated, Ruby’s shoulders rolled forward as she sank down on the floral couch her grandmother refused to part with and stared into her glass. “Does she even have a dress? Please tell me she’s not getting married in a pair of old jeans or a business suit. Please?”

“I’m taking her shopping in the morning.”

Ruby’s eyes rolled backwards as she bopped her head from side to side, clearly thinking about possibilities. “You know, I have that dress that Zelena had commissioned and then chose something else. It’s shorter than a typical wedding gown, but it’s cream colored and a-line which she seems to love. And I know her measurements from working on the dress she wanted. I could alter it to fit her.”

“You can’t let her know that you know,” Granny admonished, placing her glasses back on her nose and smoothing down the page of her book. “She’s not wanting…”

“I won’t. You give her the dress. Make up some story about how you swiped it. It can be her something borrowed. That way you can skip the shopping for it. Make an appointment for her at the spa or something. They won’t be busy the day after Thanksgiving. I assume by your cookbook that they want a wedding cake.”

The antique clock on the mantle chimed the late hour and both women frowned at it. “She said no, but you can’t have a wedding and no cake.”

Humming around the rim of her glass Ruby took that information in and processed it with what she knew of her friend. “What if that’s when we surprised her? It doesn’t have to be formal. We can shut the diner down after lunch and throw a small reception here. It won’t be meal time so just finger foods and cake, champagne for a toast.”

“She won’t be happy that you know…”

“She’ll get over it. They have to tell us eventually. So this just makes it easier. I’m not talking about inviting the town. But if we call Mary Margaret in the morning, I’m sure she’ll gather the troops. Elsa, Liam, Anna, Kristoff, me, you, her, David, Henry. I’ll check on Graham’s schedule. Do you think that Killian would want us to see if his dad…Okay, bad idea. We’ll just keep it simple.”

Granny turned another page and smoothed it into place. “She’s going to kill you. I’m not sure even with my crossbow that I could protect you.”

The dark haired woman lumbered up from the too soft couch and groaned before kissing her grandmother’s cheek. “If I worried every time that Emma threatened to kill me, I’d be on anxiety meds. Now you pick a cake. I’ll get the dress.”

***AAA***

Elsa’s face was illuminated by the screen of her phone as she slipped into bed next to Liam who she thought was still asleep. Smiling at the latest message, she let out a little sigh, and drew her knees up like a table and rested her back on the tufted headboard.

“Should I be worried that you’re more interested in that bloody phone than me?” he grumbled, tugging at the edge of his pillow. “Welcome home, by the way.”

“I was only gone a few hours,” she said, delivering a peck to his lips and giggling when he seemed upset at her pulling away so quickly. “And you have been busy with your brother and friends, haven’t you? Not sitting around here pining away for me.”

“You did beautifully, darling,” he said, the warm affection and pride seeping through his put upon pout. “Radiant.”

She blushed, finally lowering her phone. “I wish you could have been there.”

That seemed to break the sweet moment between them as he ran a hand through his hair and rolled onto his back. “I never meant to leave you alone on that stage. If I hadn’t…”

She reached over, a long elegant finger placing itself over his lips. “I’m not mad, Liam. Save the apologies for something else. But I do have something I probably need to tell you.”

The sheets and blanket were around his waist as he turned back to face her. “I’m all ears. It is good news, is it not?”

She lifted one shoulder and tilted her head as she pulled back her hand. “So I don’t know how you’re going to react. Anna thought that your brother and Emma were acting weird. She actually suggested that maybe they were planning to elope.” His eyebrows shot up and once again she silenced him with her finger on his lips. “I told her she was crazy, but you know…they have been acting strangely. And well, Ruby and her grandmother noticed too. So I have been texting with Ruby.” She held the phone up as evidence of this conversation. “They are getting married at noon tomorrow at city hall.”

“My own brother isn’t…” His lips moved against her finger before the single digit pressed harder.

“It’s about them,” Elsa reminded him, knowing he was twisting it into a slight against him. “They want to get married. We aren’t going to judge.”

“This is complete bollocks.” He pushed off from the firm mattress and stood in the darkened room. “I am about to go kick my brother’s sorry arse.”

She laughed, lowering her legs and crossing them at her ankles. “Can I suggest you get dressed first? You’re just wearing a pair of boxers.”

He huffed, heading in the direction of their shared walk in closet before whirling around to face her. “They are sneaking off as if they are doing something to be ashamed about.”

“They are in love and want to be together,” Elsa reminded him gently. “It’s about them, not you or the rest of our friends. Now Ruby’s planning to throw them a smallish reception at Granny’s tomorrow afternoon. Are you going to be okay by then? Or should I make our excuses?”

He folded his arms over his bare chest. “He’s my brother. I should be there. I should…”

“You will be there for the bigger wedding. This is just…” She smiled slightly and motioned for him to come back to bed. “I get it. If Anna had eloped, I might have been upset too. But this is them. They aren’t into all the fancy parties. Let them have this. You can be the big brother in other ways.”

He took four steps toward the king sized bed rather slowly, dragging his feet along the way. “Can we at least…”

“He knows you love him. He knows you’re happy for him.” She held out an arm to beckon him. “You can joke about this in your speech over champagne.” The mattress dipped as he sat again, finally reclining next to her. “You want to do more, don’t you?”

“A courthouse wedding just seems so impersonal. Don’t you think that should want more than that?”

She seemed to think about it for a moment, holding a splayed hand on his chest. “Such as?”

“I don’t know exactly, but it feels like we should do something more.”

***AAA***

Emma folded her robe and placed it over the softly worn chair next to the bed. The bed itself seemed overly large without Killian there reading from some creased paged book or thoughtfully making notes in that notebook of his. Even the house was quieter than normal, despite Henry and Sparrow’s presence that should have more than made up for his absence.

“Only one night apart, love, and then I’ll be at your side for all eternity,” Killian had said in that annoyingly poetic way he had about him. She was not sure why she was agreeing to his silliness about not seeing her before the wedding. Her only real excuse was that he had been so sincere about it that she couldn’t help but give in to him.

Having puttered about the bedroom long enough, she sank into the bed and tried to ignore the empty spot beside her. Everything felt off and odd without him there, her cheek missing the wiry hair on his chest where she would rest her head, her shoulders missing his blunted arm around them. She curled her arms around his pillow and thought about all the nights as a teenager in group homes when she would do something similar and imagine a night when she wouldn’t feel so alone.

It wasn’t that she felt alone now. She knew that Killian was not all that far away on his boat, probably awkwardly talking to his younger brother. Her son was excitedly sleeping next door, having been nearly impossible to get to bed after news that his mother would be getting married the next day. Henry had begged for details she couldn’t provide, but had been more than satisfied when Killian suddenly asked him to serve as best man since Liam was in the dark about the nuptials. Henry had been in awe of the responsibility and promised to keep the rings safe with the most earnest of vows.  

Staring at the alarm clock, she groaned. There weren’t that many hours to sleep and the thought of her son solemnly swearing made her wonder if she too needed to consider writing vows for their ceremony. Killian had said nothing of it, but would that stop him. He would probably be able to deliver a speech that made her tear up without giving it much time at all. She was not that kind of writer. She loved him. That would have to be mentioned. He made her feel like the broken pieces of her heart and life were beautiful and not as tragic as they had once felt. He made her feel important, loved, cherished. All of it seemed too cliché. It was a time like this she wished she could call Mary Margaret and ask for some advice about what to say.

She could do this, she told herself, flipping onto her back so that her head rested between her pillow and his and created an almost cave like feeling. She would just think of everything that he had done, said, or even tried to do to make her understand that he wasn’t like the rest of the guys she had dated. There was that sweet way he always tried to make her feel special, the way he held her hand. It wasn’t about protecting her or guiding her as much as it was a show of his support and wanting to be by her side. The way he danced with her was similar, their bodies moving together and the smile on happiness that couldn’t help but escape from both of them despite the desire to keep it cool. It reminded her of the way they made love, passionate and deliberate, lazy and affectionate. There were more sides to their relationship than any coin or set of dice.

The beeping of her phone pulled her from her thoughts, smiling she held it above her and giggled (yes, she was capable of that sometimes) at the picture of him he had sent. He was in a dark bunk on the sailboat, his hair somewhat a mess from having changed into a shirt and sleep pants. One eye was shut tightly and the other peeking at her through his phone. The text read, “can’t sleep, can you?”

She texted back just as quickly, “no, I can’t. Someone woke me by texting me.”

Killian: Bloody bastard. You should sic your fiancé on him.

Emma: I don’t know. He’s kind of cute. Might want to keep him around.

***AAA***

Liam paced outside the diner with one hand in his pocket and the other digging through the curls of his hair that were damp from the slight drizzle of the morning. He’d known that things would be crazy on the roads. But two cars almost hitting him, three pedestrians wandering out in front of him, and a plastic Santa being swept in front of him by the wind was a bit much. Elsa had discerned from a few very early phone calls with Ruby and Mary Margaret that Emma was due at the diner momentarily to join Granny for a quick dress shopping experience. While he had not even told Elsa of his early morning errand, she had been too preoccupied with some idea that Mary Margaret and David were concocting.

“You can wait inside, you know,” Ruby said, hefting up a bag of trash that she was taking to one of the canisters. “Granny won’t bite. Well, today anyway. She’s already had her breakfast.”

“I was waiting on Emma,” he admitted, brushing his hand across his forehead. “I know that you don’t want me telling her that we all know about the wedding. I just wanted her to have something…”

Ruby peered over his hand to look at the shining object in his other hand. “That is…”

“It was my mum’s necklace. It’s just a cheap little bobble that probably turned her neck green. But I thought…well, what with her becoming my sister today that it was appropriate for her something old. That is the tradition, is it not?”

Ruby pressed her lips together in an effort not to laugh. “You do realize she’s marrying your brother to have him as a husband not to gain a brother in you?” Her stiff white and red uniform was a bit wrinkled that morning after hours of sleepless toil over Emma’s dress. Still she was a stunning woman with a thick mane of chestnut hair and long legs that seemed to defy reason under a short skirt. “Though I know Emma. And she’s probably excited to be getting more family.”

“Aye, I’m just a part of the package,” he laughed. “I know it would mean a great deal to my brother as well. Our mother…well, she would have been so proud of us both for having fallen in love with such strong, beautiful, and kind hearted women. I wish she could be here for it.”

“I miss my mother a lot too. But they are with us even though we’re not able to see them. I think she’s probably very excited knowing her baby boy is getting married today.” She made a show of dabbing at her eyes as if she had been crying. “Just so you know, Jones, I’m not sentimental. Not at all.”

“Of course not,” Liam smiled. “So Emma is…”

“She got here about an hour ago. I think she’s back with Granny trying on the dress she’s going to wear and working on a style for her hair.” Placing a long fingered hand across her chest, Ruby smiled brightly. “And I’m pretending that I totally don’t know what’s going on in there.”

“So I’m out here waiting for…”

“No good reason at all,” Ruby finished. “You can find your brother down at the flower place though. I overheard that he and Henry were determined to buy Emma a bouquet to carry, which I admit is kind of romantic.”

Liam jogged off in the direction of Game of Thorns, ignoring Ruby’s declaration that she was just being helpful. If his brother wanted a private ceremony without anyone about, he could understand that. Still he felt the need to at least offer a family support that his brother would probably miss without him. And he’d be lying if he considered saying he wasn’t hurt by the exclusion.

And while he understood Elsa’s insistence that this was simply something for Killian and Emma, he knew that his brother would regret not embracing the day as something for their small family. He wouldn’t push himself onto the celebration, but at the least he could offer to help. If Emma would accept it, he would offer her the necklace as well.

His brother had always been a horrible liar, no less so when confronted with something that he was excited about. To his satisfaction his brother turned beet red at being found in a flower shop with his hand pointing to various blooms. “Brother, you’re…”

“Here to lend a hand,” Liam offered, not worrying over the fact that he was losing an opportunity to out his brother’s secrets. “I understand we have some nuptials to plan?”

His brother shifted his weight and glanced apologetically at the store owner. “We didn’t mean to…”

“I don’t think we have time for the excuses, brother. Let’s be getting on with all this. I have a suggestion, if you don’t mind.” The oldest of the brothers clamped his hand down on Henry’s shoulder. “You have a capable best man right here. I am happy to relinquish that title if you allow me a bit of a moment myself.”

Killian raised an eyebrow high, his dark hair in stark contrast to his white shirt that was clearly meant to be below a suit jacket. “A bit of a moment?”

“Aye, I was thinking that perhaps you would want something more family oriented than a courthouse. So what do you say if I perform the ceremony? I know the two of you well enough to do a load better than any barrister or magistrate. So what do you say, brother?”

Henry’s eyes grew wide at the suggestion and he was already bobbing his head at the same time that Killian was coming up with reasons why that would not work. “You aren’t a commissioned naval officer any longer. I am not sure it would be legal.”

“Perhaps not, but I could become ordained online. It’s a rather simple process they tell me. Perhaps the good man here would be so kind as to…”

Belle’s father, who had owned the shop for as long as anyone could remember, took a step backwards and held up his hands in surrender. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of true love. I happen to know just the site you need, sir.” He left Killian standing there with a half bundle of flowers resting on the counter. “Right this way.”

Liam did not go alone, dragging Henry back with him to fill in the appropriate blanks. By the time Killian was back to picking some more of the flowers, he only heard one gripe from his brother at having to pay the $50 expedited charge to print the ordainment on demand. As he went to pay for the flowers, chuckling that Henry was trying out names on his soon to be uncle that included titles of pastor and reverend, he thanked Moe French for offering to supply a few loaner arrangements if they found a place on short notice.

“I think we should stick with the courthouse,” Killian offered, ducking into his jeep after depositing the flowers into the back of it next to Henry. “It is far too complicated to get the license and all that plus plan an event.”

“Very well,” Liam said, scanning his phone to find the proper words to deliver his now required speech for the ceremony. “I should have printed this out. It’s going to look a bit awkward with me trying to read off a phone.”

The trio did a few other odds and ends that needed taken care of with Liam offering to run interference between anyone who balked at the short notice. It wasn’t until they stopped for two coffees and a hot chocolate that he voiced his concern over keeping it all a secret. “I don’t know the particulars, but it would seem that Emma’s friends have picked up on the fact there is a wedding today. I know you don’t wish to make it too big of a deal, but perhaps…”

“I doubted you kept it from Elsa and she most likely didn’t keep it from the rest of our mates. Who else might I expect to see there today?”

Liam’s lips moved with the words on his screen, ignoring his brother’s direct question. The truth was he didn’t exactly know. Elsa had been rather quiet other than saying she wouldn’t interrupt the ceremony just to show that she knew what was going on that day. Ruby was probably up to something more than supplying a dress and hosting the reception. It was Mary Margaret he wondered most about since the woman loved a wedding and was dreadfully inept at keeping secrets.

***AAA***

Mary Margaret’s mint green dress was more appropriate for summer than fall, but maternity clothing was hard to come by at the last minute in a small town. Her low heeled shoes didn’t exactly add to her height, but they were serviceable and comfortable. It was David who pointed out that they would be better for running in case Emma threw a fit at their presence.

“You do realize we could be wrong about all this,” David mused, pulling on his suit jacket as his wife paced in the rounded corridor of city hall. “Maybe they aren’t…”

“They are,” the teacher corrected, peering down the hall way again with her green eyes searching out anyone familiar. She had promised Ruby and Elsa that she would not do this, but the pull had been too great. Emma was like a sister to her so the thought of her having a wedding with no celebrants or witnesses other than her own son and a stuffy judge was not just sad but horrifying. Like the teacher she was, Mary Margaret had packed a bag that was now at David’s feet, including her new camera that would take the best pictures of the ceremony.

“She’s going to be angry,” David observed, clearly trying to warn her off from getting too excited. The night before had been a sleepless one after they returned home from Killian and Emma’s house. Mary Margaret had been vocally going through every possible scenario and secret that Emma could have been hiding from them. However, phone calls from Elsa, Anna, and Ruby had meant that Mary Margaret was not only right but on a mission.

“She’ll thank me once she realizes that we are just trying to give her a special day that she won’t regret later.”

While it wasn’t the bride that overheard that comment, it was Anna who appeared at the top of the stairs sans husband or sister. “You think Emma will regret marrying Killian?” she asked, her jewel toned purple dress a good combination with her rust colored hair. “I thought they were in love.”

The two women hugged fiercely and left David shaking his head. “No, I just meant that she might regret getting married here without her friends.” She scrunched her nose as she looked down the corridor again. “Shouldn’t one of them or both of them be here by now?”

“Killian’s jeep is out front,” Anna informed them, “as is Ruby’s car. I think Granny must have driven that since it is parked a little crooked and Granny tends to do that.” She lifted a hand to check her earring, rolling her eyes at the inquisitive looks from the couple. “What? I’m observant, okay?”

“Wait, so they could both be here and we’re up here waiting for…”

Anna’s eyes grew bright as she caught on to Mary Margaret’s meaning and the two expectant mothers ran or more like speed walked down the stairs and down the hall where they found Henry pacing in front of the bank of restrooms tossing the velvety ring box up and then catching it. David was just a few steps behind with Mary Margaret’s bag of tricks slung over his arm and shoulder.

Henry realized immediately that his mother’s friends were not there for purely social reasons. “She’s going to kill you,” he said against his teacher’s shoulder as she pulled him into a hug. “I don’t know why she is hiding this, but she is.”

“I brought David and Anna to protect me,” she responded, hugging him tighter. “David’s pretty good in a fight and Anna’s scrappy.” She pulled back and inspected him. “So before we have this brawl, what is the plan? How do we make this day more special?”

***AAA***

Ruby pressed her lips together tightly and tilted her head in the cramped space of the women’s restroom. “It’s kind of simple.”

Emma’s eyes met hers in the mirror and narrowed at the gigantic can of hairspray in her friend’s hands. “I’m getting married at the courthouse on the day after Thanksgiving when most people are out shopping. I think I’m okay with simple.”

“There’s nothing wrong with simple, but your hair is so beautiful. Maybe you’d like…” Ruby took a step forward, tilting her head and already going through possibilities in her head.

Emma’s hair hung in loose curls down her back and was framed by a fat braid over the top of her head that was fastened behind her right ear. Tiny glittering pins were placed within the folds of the braid, creating a shining halo when the light struck just so. “Are we really doing this right now? In the middle of a public bathroom?”

“You’re the one who wanted to elope,” Ruby said, digging into her bag after shoving the hairspray into her grandmother’s hands. “Romantic and all, but still it’s a pretty special occasion. I say we should bling you up a bit.”

“I say no,” Emma announced, her green eyes sparkling. “I promise that when we have the big ceremony.” Her fingers made air quotes that she hated most of the time. “When we have that, I promise that I’ll do my hair differently and even wear more makeup.”

“Wait, you’re not putting on more makeup?” The appalled tone of her dark haired friend made Emma glance toward Granny for support. The older woman grabbed Ruby’s arm in warning. “Got it. It’s your day. You do you.”

Emma’s phone, which was being held by Granny, rang loudly, startling all three women. Peering out of the bottom of her glasses, Granny smiled at the name and picture on the screen. “It’s Killian,” she said, handing the bride the phone. “Ruby and I’ll be outside.” Before Ruby had the chance to protest, she was shoved out of the cramped space with her hairspray in one hand and a brush in the other.

“Is calling me not bad luck?” Emma asked as the door clanked shut. “I thought you were all into the superstition thing.”

His chuckle, even through the electronic connection, was warm and welcome in her ear, reminding her of nights by the fire or the way his lips would brush against her shoulder blade in the morning. “Just so you know last night away from you was torture, love. I don’t plan to repeat that any time soon.”

“Me either,” she agreed, leaning toward the mirror to inspect the mascara she was wearing that had a tendency to clump if she wasn’t careful. It looked fine. “So what’s up? Are we not doing this thing? Did you get cold feet? Or did something come up?”

“Perish the thought. I am anxious to marry you. I simply wanted to warn you of something.” His voice caught and she knew he was probably scratching behind his ear with that nervous twitch that was such a tell to his state of mind. “My brother knows of our plans. He showed up this morning and even did a thing to make it legal for him to marry us.”

“Your brother,” she said slowly, as if repeating the words, “went from naval officer, to unemployed musician, to bar manager, to minister? Or are you telling me he joined the priesthood. Am I going to have to call him Father Jones now?” Her laugh was light and she hoped somewhat soothing to her nervous sounding groom. “It’s okay, Killian. People are going to have to find out. So he found out sooner? It’ll be nice having him there. He’s your brother.”

“He’s not the only one who knows.”

Her sharp intake of breath cut off her easy laugh. “Elsa? Anna? Ruby knows because Granny told her.”

“Mary Margaret and David as well,” he managed to say. “I’m afraid they are all here. I haven’t spoken to them yet, but I went to track down Henry and saw them all in the hallway outside the restroom I think you must be in right now.”

Taking three steps toward the door, Emma groaned as she head the muffled yet familiar voices. “We suck at this,” she told him emphatically. “So I guess we have an audience.”

“I suppose we do. Do you wish to welcome them or should I? And just so you are aware, Liam said Elsa was the only one steadfast enough in her resolve to respect our wishes. She isn’t here. But he will call her if you should like.”

“Call her,” Emma agreed, smoothing her hand down the front of the cream colored dress. “Call her. I’ll talk to our friends and then meet you at the mayor’s office in 15 minutes?” They were going to have to get a special license for the ceremony, as they were marrying in fewer than 24 hours after application. It should not be a problem, but Emma’s less than optimistic nature had her worried. Since the mayor was her boss’s mother, she was sure that maybe some red tape could be avoided. She squared off her shoulders after telling her soon to be husband that she loved him and headed into the crowded hallway corridor to face her friends.

Mary Margaret and Anna did not kill her, instead they were misty eyed and supportive as they both hugged her in tandem and then separately. “I know you wanted to…I’m just so happy for you. This is your day!” Mary Margaret squealed and squeezed her friend tighter. “He’s your very own prince…”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Emma told Mary Margaret, holding her a bit longer than necessary as she looked toward David with a slight nod that said she wasn’t in fact mad or angry over the added company. “The only thing wrong with our plans to do this today was that we couldn’t share it with all of you.”

Anna was less schmaltzy than the teacher and reached out tentatively to touch one of the curls that had had wound its way onto Emma’s arm. “You’re a beautiful bride, Emma. I love the dress.”

Ruby might not have intended to make it a wedding dress, but it was fitting the bill quite nicely. The rounded neck showed off Emma’s shoulders well and the wide cream colored straps left her defined arms bare. Its precise stitching was highlighted with pearl luster buttons on the back and a full skirt that swished about Emma’s legs and ended just above her knees. Emma had thought it was perfect for the occasion, especially when Ruby and Granny had agreed that she didn’t need a veil or other trappings of a more traditional bride. They even managed a quick trip to the store to buy some shoes that were far more expensive than she had intended but matched the color perfectly and added height to her already long legs. Even with the heels she was still sure to be a few inches shorter than her groom, which Granny had slyly told her was perfect for their first kiss as husband and wife.

Anna wasn’t done with her commentary though, complimenting Emma’s hair and her light touches of makeup before lunging for Mary Margaret’s bag to remind the other woman of their accessories. “So we know this totally isn’t a wedding type of wedding, but you have to do the traditional things too. You know something, old, new, borrowed, blue.”

Emma laughed nervously as Mary Margaret and Anna pulled various items out of the teacher’s bag of tricks. There were gaudy sapphire earrings that neither woman would admit to being a contribution and were summarily dismissed. The next was a blue garter that Mary Margaret had said was her own second choice and a fine addition to the thrown together plans. Emma accepted the gift, laughing that she did need one after all. Anna pulled out a familiar box and pulled out a thin silver bracelet.

“Okay, I was planning to give this to Elsa for Christmas and then I started thinking you’d need something new so I am giving it to you. It’s pretty new. See, it’s got the price tag and everything. Wait! Don’t look at that. You don’t need to actually see the price.” The rust haired woman leaned forward and clipped the bracelet around her friend’s wrist. “Okay so that is blue and new. What’s next?”

“Old,” announced an added voice to the group. Wearing a sheath dress of rich purple, Elsa rushed up to them quite breathlessly. “We’re going to talk about the fact that we all said we were going to meet at Granny’s and I was left there without anyone. But first, I have this.” She dug into the clutch she was holding and pulled out a velvety box with a pair of pearl earrings. “You’ve borrowed them before. Your first date with Killian, I think. They were our mother’s and her mother’s before that. They will certainly work as the old here.”

“Much better,” Mary Margaret announced as a newly earringed Emma hugged Elsa too. “So that’s it right. I mean you’re borrowing the earrings that are old. The bracelet is new. My garter is blue…”

“I guess I’m all set,” Emma said, laughing as Ruby rushed forward saying she forgot something.

“It’s a tradition, according to Granny,” Ruby announced, holding up a penny. “See, it’s your birth year and everything. Put it in your shoe and you’ll have good luck. Or lots of kids. Or great sex. I don’t know. It’s good luck.” Granny covered Henry’s ears as the adults laughed toward Ruby’s blubbering and gibberish. “I mean I guess the great sex could lead to kids. It’s got some sort of meaning. Just put in your shoe and hope for the best.”

“You can Google that silly tradition later,” Elsa interrupted, pointed down the long hallway toward where her boyfriend was reading the words of the ceremony again. “I think you need to go deal with the paperwork aspect of all this. Liam’s looking nervous so I can just imagine that Killian is too.”

Emma nodded, gathering the skirt in her hand and then releasing it when Ruby shouted out in panic about wrinkling the material. So with a roll of her eyes instead of a hug, Emma marched toward her fiancé and his brother in hopes that this would not take too much longer. To her surprise, Liam looked paler than his brother as he greeted her nervously and cut off Killian’s comment about how beautiful she looked in her newly fashioned wedding dress. “I have a bit of business to take care of with sister in law here,” he noted, shooing his brother with one hand and shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“I know the lasses have already given you your good luck baubles or whatever, but I was thinking…” He looked down toward his feet, his eyes closing for a moment. “I have this necklace that belonged to mine and Killian’s mum. She wore it on special occasions.”

Killian must have swallowed hard, as she heard a slight noise from him as Liam presented her with the silver chain and knot like charm that was set off by deep blue sapphires. “It’s beautiful,” she said, her voice barely a whisper and her hands not daring to touch the necklace yet. “I would be…I would be honored.”

That seemed to relax the oldest of the brothers as he loosened his grip on the jewelry. “She would have been wearing this today if she had lived to see this occasion,” he commented, stepping behind her and clasping it, giving his brother a satisfied smile. “I thought perhaps this would be a bit like having her here.”

“I’m truly sorry I never got to meet her,” Emma said to them both. “She must have been an amazing woman to raise the two of you.”

“Aye, she deserved more than her lot in this life.” Killian clapped his brother on the shoulder and extended his left arm toward Emma. “Raising two hell raising sons was probably not the life she dreamed of for herself.”

“No, it wasn’t, but it wasn’t always so dreary. Passersby and even some family used to think Killian here was a girl. He had the longest eyelashes and thickest hair you’d ever seen on a wee babe. He was quite a sight with it. Mum dispelled that rumor quickly, but still everyone we knew made that mistake once or twice at least.”

Emma grinned as Killian’s face turned pink. “You know I kind of like those lashes of yours. They make your eyes even more blue.” She leaned over and kissed him softly, earning a groan from Liam.

“Let’s get this done now. I have been studying like mad to perform this ceremony and poor Henry’s hands may never completely unfurl after carrying those rings of yours so carefully. It’s likely he’s going to have arthritis from that vice grip of his.”

[inaquietworld]

Campaign Log: 1

This isn’t neccessarily for my tumblr followers, but I don’t mind if anyone reads it. It’s an overview of my D&D world and a recap of the first few sessions of the game I run, mostly for my players’ benefits to help them keep track of all the places they’ve seen and people they’ve met. (Note: Yes, it’s obviously a modified version of a fairly well known old module, placed within the context of my world :P)

Players: Gnice, Talia, Ai’styl, Vyedra DMPC: Lydia NPC: Everybody else

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Prelude

           The world had been spoiled upon by its 7 Gods: Wealth, Lore, Magi, Pride, Sylin, Chaos, and War. Even when the Gods had fights, as the halfling lands were decimated and the Gods punished the dragons for their hubris; still life was relaxed for most races at the table. That is, until the Gods disappeared about 100 years ago.

          The continent upon which the Acades Empire took its first steps has seen the rise and conglomeration of many peoples: the humans to the east, the elves to the west, and the river elves to the south. The God of War’s civilizations – the burly minotaurs and the ruthless orcs -- had always surrounded Acades to both the north and south, creating a string of tension throughout Acades history.

          When the four great wizard families of nobility – Cathadious, Datthius, Myrlin, and Ilvendorr – had united, there came a unified power able to drive back the orcs, minotaurs, and competing forces. The River Elves to the south suffered a large defeat in this time, leaving southern Acades barren and the human-elf alliance to the north the last remaining power of Acades.

          The cultures of the elves and humans might be different, but Acades was able to maintain harmony for quite some time. The great city of Halven was created as a symbolic gesture that rose to international fame as a blended multicultural endeavor. The humans brought order, infrastructure to their city planning; while the elves reminded them how to venerate nature, with beautiful architecture that was furled in greenery and rich artistry. It was a lasting symbol of harmony until about 15 years ago, when the city mysteriously collapsed with almost no survivors and no recollection of what had happened.

          And with that, Acades feels the aches of division and mistrust once again. Through Pai’vall and the elven Hold of Datthius, demands for more troops from the capital are met with silence as its forces are stretched thin; and whispers that the human-heavy capital has abandoned them. In the capital Halstaad, the House and Hold of Myrlin is stretching their own soldiers thin from Orc assaults to the North. In the Hold of Ilvendorr, their capital Halven is gone and the people ache for true leadership in the face of a silent noble family. Meanwhile, the hold of Cathadious and their bishop both struggle to cling to power as their largely religious influence is waning as the church’s power crumbles.  

          As all of this unfolds, even weirder forces are about to emerge from the earth to steer fate astray…

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 Session 1

          The scene starts with Gnice Ta’meetcha the gnome and Talia the halfling in a travelling caravan. Gnice, yearning to see the gnomeish homelands he never knew, had travelled all the way from his birthplace, the Dwarven Kingdom Faldheim, to find himself here in Acades. Talia, who had shuffled around Acades her whole life, was on the way to Welmarsh to rendezvous with the Ruby Dragon, the new thieves’ guild in town who had begun to drive out the local thieves’ band the Jackdaws.

          The caravan is ambushed by Troglodytes, leery lizard people of the marsh, who had attempted to take the cart driver old man Jacoby. After this, Gnice and Talia realize that something is amidst around these parts. The only clue they have at this point is a pendant from the trog, a silver twin-leaf symbol.

          The first inn they find in the small nestled village of Welmarsh is the Golden Grain Inn, which seems quiet and as if every eye is watching the fledgling adventurers buy a room. The church priestess Misha takes notice of the adventurers as they enter the church of Sylin and asks them what they need. Upon being asked about her necklace, which is an exact match to the troglodyte’s pendant, she explains that it’s an old symbol of Sylin.

          Talia receives a message from the old thieves’ guild the Jackdaws, holding knowledge of [character backstory points here] that they’ll never tell her after her betrayal. Talia attempts to feel out the Jackdaw’s work for hire partner, a dwarf chandler known as the Manufacturer, but she fails to find common ground with him to gain his favor.

           Attempts to talk with the general store keep and to meet the Baron lead to dead ends. The Slithering Serpent Inn owner Ollwin Crawloon and his wife Belba are markedly friendlier – and their inn livelier – than the GGI. At the Golden Grain Inn Talia gets a work referral that leads her to a farmer’s widow and her three sons, all with glazed eyes who invite Talia in for tea before attempting to take her down. Talia uses the fallen old woman as cover to hold her own against three, before slipping and gashing her head against their coffee table (this left a small permanent scar). As she falls out of consciousness, local folk hero and Goliath Paladin Shevarr Stoneshield bursts in, and saves Talia’s life. Using a zone of truth, Shevarr gains trust in Talia.

           Meanwhile at the GGI, Gnice stumbles upon a screaming girl attacked by two large men. She bashes one over the head with a lute, and Gnice knocks down the other. Introducing herself as Lydia the travelling bard, the two sneak out the window, now suspicious of the inn’s intentions.

           Talia, Shevarr, Gnice, and Lydia meet up. Talia (eventually) realizes that Lydia is the travelling bard he heard about from cart-driver Jacoby.  Shevarr hears of the Golden Grain Inn’s attacks and runs off, ready to draw her sword first and ask questions later. The remaining trio move their inn stays to the Sleeping Serpent Inn, where they hear of a wizard who has made camp in the forest. On their way to meet this wizard, they stumble across a minotaur in the middle of the forest, and ready themselves for battle.

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Session 2

           As the battle with the minotaur ensues, the elven ranger Ai’styl (a man raised by the treants and fairies of the forest) wanders into the fray. Upon realizing the minotaur is brandishing the ripped off arm of a fellow treant, Ai’styl enters a silent rage and joins the party’s fight. He heard of the disturbances happening around the forest, but now it becomes personal.

           After the fight, the minotaur’s familiar, a snarling weasel, is thrown at Lydia who to her own surprise calms the snarling thing into submission.  They find a note left on the minotaur that says “due west, ~4.5 miles. Dark magic infiltrating town, more intel needed” but the party is unsure what to make of this.

           Finding their way to the forest, they meet a slightly unkempt mage by the name of Ramnus Thackeray (Ramne for short), and his crow familiar Crux. They find out he’s been studying alchemic using local components, and he divulges some clues to troglodyte culture and their old snake goddess Dishna. From there the group heads north to the marshes where the troglodytes were said to live.

           Upon making their way to the marsh, the party finds themselves witness to a battle, as kobolds and goblins fight over the abandoned troglodyte settlement and the food and goodies left behind. The party decides to take full advantage of this and finishes off the weakened forces and raid the rest of the huts for all their trinkets. Amongst this, Gnice finds the identification documents to a Delgarr Kragfinger, an old friend of his who was one of the dwarves that accompanied him down to Acades, on their way to the bishop of Cathadious. They also find the identification documents to a halfling named Garret, the surname torn.

           With few leads, the party regroups in town. They meet the stable hand who worries that Welmarsh’s autumn festivals -- which revolve around horse related sports and Welmarsh’s renown horse market -- won’t be as busy with the mysterious disappearances that have been plaguing the village. A member of the guard by the name of Henry had gone missing the prior night, but Brida, the sharp-tongued elf guard, assumes Henry acted stupidly, “as he usually does, the dumb-shit.”

           Out of ideas, the group heads towards the limestone quarry to the southeast of town. Along their way, they collectively get lost and end up in a wolves’ den. After finishing off the snarling foes, Gnice overhears the cries of wolf pups further in the den; and the guilt already weighing on the greenhorn adventurer, Gnice and Ai’styl take the two pups and continue towards their destination.

           The party finds the entrance to a dungeon along the side of the limestone deposits, obscured by the overgrowth of the forest. The door has a riddle on it that leaves the group scratching their heads, but they decide to camp out to wait for any signs of activity. Sure enough, night falls and they spot Troglodytes enter and leave -- not through the trick door in front but a secret door above it. The group creates a diversion to the ones guarding the door and stealthily climb inside.

           As the party sneaks through the dungeon, they strike down more troglodytes and sift through every room they come across, finding keys in various places – hidden under a bed, guarded by a chained harpy, etc – until they have four; at which point they use the four keys to open the door to the rest of the dungeon, revealing an expansive underground lake beyond the doorway.

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Session 3        

             Suddenly, the ceiling above breaks and from the hilltop above falls Vyedra, a darkly flushed druid river elf from the collapsed elven realm to the south. Curious and always free spirited, she shrugs and decides to join the party in solving this mystery.                     The party finds a common room and some bedrooms where some humans and elves have been staying, all these men bearing the same glazed peculiar eyes that they have been seeing over and over. After a small conversation a struggle ensues. The party strikes down a man in vagrant clothes, a man whose jacket bears the emblem to the Ruby Dragons, and a man donned in guard’s armor.  

          Moving on, the group finds a magical token which summons a boat they use to traverse the gator-infested waters. Along their way, Gnice starts to feel woozy, and the group witnesses a glow erupt from his body temporarily. If things were confusing before they’re definitely weird now. Talia finds an old and torn cryptic note which mentions gems scattered beneath the ocean.

           They continue room to room until they hear quiet sobbing and dragged feet in the muddy dungeon floors, which leads them to a prisoner and unexpected reunion – Shevarr. The goliath paladin is chained and shrugged over, defeatedly; her body is stained with blood, and most noticeably her left arm has been completely hacked off.  She struggles to retell the group that she was defeated in the Golden Grain Inn, knocked out and brought down here, where she resisted the snake monster’s charming gaze. Ai’styl and Vyedra realize this snake monster that everyone has been talking about must be a Naga, which matches the details of Shevarr’s story.

           The group bandages up Shevarr’s arms and picks the lock to her shackles.  Shaken and unsure of her own ability, Shevarr slowly grabs her broadsword from muddy floor and walks with the group to the final room, an open cavern with a shrine to Disha the Spirit Naga, as the Naga meditates from within a glowing ethereal swirl of light.

           With a distraction and a giant spider corpse for cover, a battle begins. The troglodyte followers engage in combat, and their chained harpy uses her own gaze to lure Ai’styl into danger. As things look worse off for Dishna, she hisses and with a spark of light pushes the ground below her up and away from the party. Vyedra’s wolf companion is knocked off the top of this plateau and is bloodied up. Gnice and Shevarr flank a troglodyte, Talia keeps her cover and fires a ranged assault; and Vyedra and Ai’styl front the attack. Lydia is ensnared by the Naga’s gaze and uncontrollably throws herself in front of Dishna.

           Dishna’s power almost reaching its apex, she walls herself off from the party. Ai’styl, Gnice, and Vyedra struggle to climb over the wall as an entranced Lydia and Gnice’s summoned hippogriff fight on the other side. When they finally reach the top, Ai’styl takes aim and fires an arrow of incredulous precision and power through the Naga’s gaping mouth and down her throat, killing her in one staggering blow.

           The group searches the fallen foes and takes various prizes from the dungeon: a mysterious staff, a glowing white ethereal orb from the Naga’s chest, and a blue potion from one of the slain humans.

           With that mystery presumably solved, the party considers what to do next. Shevarr trudges off, mumbling about ‘fixing things’ and ‘atoning for her failure.’ Ramne helps Talia identify the properties of the potion and informs the party that he will be staying in Hilloft and travelling to the fallen city of Halven to help identify some recovered arcane texts; unable to describe the magic within the white orb, Ramne suggests they travel to the west towards Pai’vall, where he apprenticed under his old master, a wizard who may know more than he does. Ollwin shrugs and laughs when the party returns to his inn, since their party seemingly grows every time they do.

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 Epilogue

           The party has about four days left on the rooms they bought in the inn, so they wait out the remainder of that time to gather themselves and garner supplies, among other things. In this time, they hear a few points of interest from the gossiping drunkards visiting the inn:             The missing guard Henry was found dead. A farmer’s widow was found dead and the city is looking for someone to buy the old farmhouse to try to move past any negative attention to Welmarsh quickly. The Golden Grain Inn has closed for renovations. The priestess of the local church has left to go on a short pilgrimage to Cathadious, where a child of the church has been supposedly performing miracles. The capital Halstaad is apparently looking for adventurers and mercenaries to start a monster hunting battalion. Minotaurs have been spotted near Pai’vall, transforming their discontent into an uproarious ultimatum to the capital for more aid. Ramne stops by the inn to bid goodbye to Ollwin and the group before he leaves for Hilloft.

           Lydia looks around the tavern before meekly saying “so, what is everyone doing now?”

[owyheestar]

Greetings From Far Eastern Oregon ~October 28, 2017

As I walked to the Jeep this morning–out the door to pick up my helper, Christina.

  The promise of another lovely fall day looms large. The morning work was done in darkness, but by the time I left to get Christina, the sun was emerging ever so slightly. Lately, we have been not only dark but engulfed in a bank of fog. I would drive out of it a mile or so down the road. This morning, the fog bank was exclusively reserved for the banks of the Snake River. You can see (the river fog) it if you look closely at the second photo. By the time I got back, the farmers were either in the field or heading towards one. We saw one of the Kamishige’s on the road and the other brother already working the adjacent field. When the work awaits, and winter is knocking, they cannot afford to put off what must be done. Speaking of fog–look at the mist hanging over the harvested corn (across the road). It seems Halloween worthy.

Soon, our wheat will be planted. Then, we will wait and see what it brings early next year. I love winter wheat in that it greens up early–green cannot come soon enough after winter promises to give way to spring. Each season has its benefits–they are essential. We live in an actual four season area–each season dramatic.

This Week on the Blog

Here are the week’s posts. We had a bit of an International flavor to the blog–Jorja just returned from Belgium where she has always lived since leaving OwyheeStar. Winston reported in that he has moved to Ireland. It is fun to see a few OwyheeStars sprinkled around the globe. We don’t make a practice of sending our pups out; however, some of you take them with. We celebrated a birthday and read about the amazing Henry who has some tricks that make life fun. Of course, Shiny and Luey’s nosework was an incredible read–congratulations Shiny on the earned title. We also thank Julia for sharing this news and information with our readers. It has prompted interest from others including Marika (in New Zealand) who recently signed up for Spring 2018 Nosework Competition on the South Island. Finally, we ended with the smelly feet question. There was a little bit of everything with no puppy updates. We have them coming soon. Anyhow, we thank the contributors who are invested in helping us with our material. We love spotlighting various OwyheeStar Weims and sharing helpful information. We couldn’t do it without you!

Sunday—October 22 — Jorga Monday —October 23 — Birthday Boy (Zeus) Tuesday —October 24 — Winston (In Ireland) Wednesday —October 25 — Nosework (Shiny Titles) Thursday —October 26 — Henry (newest trick) Friday — October 27 — Lu (smelly paws)

On a very personal note

     ~ The Utility Bath Awaits Shela

Cliff has made a concerted effort to finish the Utility Bath. I could not appreciate his sacrifice and attention to this project more. We are enjoying the various upgrades. Now, the monkey is on my (Shela’s) back. I have a bit of painting, cleaning, and fill work. Sadly, I may need to ask Cliff for something else–to cut some additional shelving. I need to pick up another small trashcan.

Yesterday, we met a client at Costco in Nampa. It was a two-fold purpose which included buying some household supplies. With all the storage in utility, there is enough room for an ample amount of toilet paper, extra laundry products, and all the essentials. I got most of this stocked in. (Hurrah!)

Cliff has been working so hard on things around this farm–it is endless. He has been moving dirt, and that just takes time. The old carport is being revamped–of course, this project is Weim-related. What isn’t? There is a little of this and that because we know snow and freezing temperatures are on the way.

We have had medical and dental things. Who doesn’t and we are not getting younger. My health crisis continues. Each day I am a tiny bit better–or at least I choose to believe I am. I can tell by the products I need to maintain. There were months when I was never without a cough drop. I thought I should invest in cough drop stock. I thought maybe I should try to purchase a case of lozenges. Alas, I have not been buying them of late. What is left is the obnoxious spasms and an occasional cough that travels along randomly. The spasms are often painful–imagine a very sour throat and unstopping hiccups. (ouch) Nonetheless, it is better. After a year of trying to get into a specific doctor Cliff and I, both managed to see him. We are delighted, and he gave me hope. He also has referred Cliff to the hand doctor–he has a condition that must be surgically corrected. I suppose he will be facing that soon.

My encounter this week with two of the medical professionals was not ideal. The blood draw didn’t come easy–not unusual, but sometimes I get someone with excellent skills. I was not so fortunate as I was left with was some pain and battle scars. The good news is that she had sense enough to call someone else sooner rather than later. I came away with red marks but no real bruising despite the soreness. I was not so lucky with the typically painless acupuncturist. She accidentally hit a vein and left me with a sizeable bruise.

Hope pervades even in the midst of the obstacles. I have looked at the cyclamen and talked about how it almost died earlier this year. I feel it mimics my journey. Yes, I stated on Facebook there is a plethora of blossoms and buds. Every moment it seems there is development. This photo was taken yesterday, but this morning there are new shoots loaded with buds preparing to open. Each one speaks to my heart and soul about the importance of hope. I leave you with this one question. What do we have without hope?

      2017 42nd Recap Greetings From Far Eastern Oregon ~October 28, 2017 The promise of another lovely fall day looms large.

[nrdynarwhal-blog]

The Only Porchlight in The Abandonment

I’ve taken to calling the stretch of land surrounding our house “The Abandonment.” It is an ever-expanding space– three adjacent abandoned lots, two garages, a barn, three houses on our right and five houses on our left. It stretches two blocks behind our house, one to the right and three to the left– surrounding our house with overgrown, falling-down, litter-covered property beginning its re-wilding.

           The Abandonment is far from deserted– abandoned by the humans that created it, but far from devoid of life.  My daughter Tristen, our dog Gemma, and I have taken to exploring this space and documenting the goings on here.

           Presently, the list of tenants is a little short.  Feral cats live in the empty houses. Rats have colonized the barn and garage.  They dart and dash between old tires and smashed television sets to avoid us on our weekly walks.  The cats are braver. A big yellow and orange tom cat adopted us last summer.  We called him Walter and he stayed with us for a few weeks before moving on.  Our feral cats are a transient bunch. We never see the same cat more than three times. Winter has been particularly harsh (changing from cold to warm and from rain to snow as if flipping a coin) driving these urban animals to their breaking point.  A wind storm in August destroyed my sunflower garden and with it went our flock of birds.  Without all those seeds, there is a calorie deficit in The Abandonment– there is nothing for the birds, mice, and rats to eat.  Our troop of scavengers: raccoons, groundhog, skunks and opossums don’t leave much for the smaller animals.  These guys have a monopoly on our garbage.  If it’s not in the metal can, its fair game.  If it is in the metal cans, it’s for the raccoons.

In our almost-three-year tenure on 10th Street, I have only ever seen these raccoons on two occasions.  The first was late one night in June or July right after we moved in.  My husband, Justin, and I were sitting on the porch (with Gemma) having a late-night cigarette, when this portly creature came stumbling out of the abandoned lot next door.  He waddled into our yard.  Blinked at our porchlight. Looked slowly around at us and the dog.  Made eye contact with Gemma then slunk along the shadows until he disappeared under our porch. Because he took us by surprise, my husband and I laughed as his striped tale vanished under the sideboards.  But in truth, this raccoon made me uneasy. I was glad we had seen him at night so I could be almost sure he wasn’t rabid but not totally sure so we quickly retreated into the house and vowed to put the trash bags into the cans.

Stowe Township (out in the far west extremities of the Pittsburgh area, down by Mancini’s Bread) sits between McKees Rocks and Kennedy Township.  Our neighborhood has the look of memory– most of the houses have been forgotten about.  Once they were nice, but now they have fallen into a state between functional and abandoned: peeling paint and rotted wood stay so long as they do their jobs. While McKees Rocks was once a thriving machinery and railroad town, now it is mostly the temporary houses made for steel and railroad workers that have been bubble-gummed-and-duck-taped into lasting until 2017.  When the jobs left, most of the people left too– the people that remain are a mix of hardened old-school Italian, Polish, and African American barely-middle-class working folks simply surviving. From the Italians we have bread and pizza, from the Polish golden churches (and pierogis), and from the African Americans the small businesses that maintain our micro-economy.

The second time we encountered this raccoon was right at dusk as we were unloading groceries.  Coming up our walk way, we heard scurrying over in the lot.  As I got to the porch with the first load of plastic bags, the portly raccoon came wobbling out from under a chair.  His front paws were out in front of him, cupped, and filled with cat food. He didn’t even look at us as he wobbled off, his buddies chattered in the darkness at the top of our street where the side walk ended and turned to grass. I remember thinking how ballsy he was, but I was also impressed with his brazen ability to survive. He knew that cat food was there.  It was almost as if he assumed that it was for him and his buddies. He was just like Yep, this is mine now. Peace. I guess urban raccoons need attitude to be able to survive in this wasted town.

Raccoon chittering has become one of the characteristics of Stowe Township– alongside the hourly train whistle and the smells of fresh bread and pizza … and skunk (maybe on some streets it’s marijuana, but on 10th Street it is a real, flesh-and-stink skunk). Not just one skunk though, a troupe of skunks.  At least four skunks. Maybe a mama and pups. Maybe just a gang of hood skunks.  All I know is that they live under our porch. Eat our garbage. Furrow grubs out of our grass and emit odors.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike the skunks– even if they did cause us to be without a house for four days because their odor correlated with a major problem with our furnace.  I just wish they would relocate.  I don’t like the risk involved with our dog. Gemma is way too nosey to be a good skunk-neighbor.  It is just a matter of time before they spray her for getting too close. They probably think the same of us though. We leave lights on. Drive cars. Don’t buy canned cat food anymore.  

Gemma doesn’t have a good relationship with most of The Abandonment tenants– she chases the opossum, groundhog, and feral cats up and down our yard. Sometimes the groundhog will try to out run her and make a dash for his burrow on the side of our house.  Sometimes he fails.  That is why this groundhog is Henry 3.0.

Before the house directly next to ours fell empty, the guy who rented it would shoot bow-and-arrow off of his porch.  He used a target block on top of five huge bales of hay to stop the arrows.  Henrys 1.0 and 2.0 used to eat the clover and wild strawberries that grew in his yard.  His dog, a massive cream-colored pitbull, did not approve of this invasion of his territory. Henry 1.0 liked to sunbathe in the mornings when our back yards were filled with sun.  One morning, poor Henry didn’t perk up soon enough and the dog got him– full force teeth to the side and Henry was no longer. Henry 2.0 was a little thing. But he was still a groundhog and still had a weakness for wild strawberries.  I guess our neighbor was sick of his dog barking and growling at the back door every morning, but I am only assuming. I was only made privy to the situation when 2.0’s corpse was out with his garbage. Henry 3.0 should be safe from such assaults as those people have moved out.  Plus, I have been smuggling him wrinkled potatoes and carrots all winter. Gemma sometimes chases him up the fence line to his hole, but for the most part, this groundhog chooses to avoid all contact with us. Which is probably for the better. He should share his idea with the rats and opossums. But maybe rooting out tasty bits of wrinkled tubers will entice him to stick around and continue to put up with our nonsense.

Our interactions with the rats– I think it might just be one particularly daring brown rat– and opossums have been much more personal.  And much more invasive– like slinking up our laundry drain and climbing up the inside of our walls kind of invasive; there might be more opossums in my house than people invasive; my husband killed his brother with a hammer and left his body as a warning, but he still came back invasive.  Now, I am not advocating for sharing space with wild animals, but there is no need to remove them if they are not hindering our way of life. They are living beings too and were probably here before we moved in.  Just because humans made this structure, doesn’t mean we have sole rights to inhabit it. But that is enough about the rights of vermin – honestly, I find it hilarious that the opossums moved into our space.  They, with their thumpings and scufflings, are just one more way nature is reclaiming our house and urban space.  

Before we had Tristen, my husband lost his job and we were forced to leave 10th Street for about 4 months.  The previous two summers left The Abandonment teaming with life– wild flowers, grasses, mystery plants that seem to need no water and cannot be killed with Round-Up, butterflies, bees, wasps (huge, mean black wasps), flies, spiders (Larry the living-room-ceiling-spider, Bartholomew the bathroom-corner-spider and several others from the wolf spiders currently squatting in our basement to tiny little spiders that make delicate webs in the hall corners), snakes, mice, rats, raccoons, skunks, opossums, feral cats, things that wondered in from the rail road tracks. Life was in that lot.

Life that depended on our cast-offs, on the changes we made to their environment.

We re-rented the same house in the end of September of this year and came back to a surprisingly void of life lot. Our sunflowers had been ransacked by wind and rain. We did not plant our garden. We did not supply any garbage to pick through, lick calories out of yogurt containers, scrape calories from tin cans. The life left with us.

We are the only porchlight surrounded by abandonment. We are their cash-cow. We have influenced their evolution.

Now, I toss carrots, potatoes, and sketchy-left-overs over our fence into The Abandonment in an effort to tempt them back– as if to apologize for leaving, as if to say: come, share our prosperity.  Come back to The Abandonment.  

  Our Marsupial Overlords

We still do not know how they got up there, but we know there are more than two of them– opossums.  They have made the space above our bathroom and back hall their home.

We hear them playing in the evenings: a thump, thump, scuffle on the drywall that rattles our light fixtures.  

I can only imagine what Gemma hears when she and our two cats are home all day.  

They have no shame– they sleep in our house, pluck the grubs from our grass, lick all the goodies from our trash then re-decorate The Abandonment with it when they are done.

And honestly, it amuses me more than it bothers me.

Or maybe it’s just the temporary way that I see this house that makes these things so funny: It’s only a rental, nothing to worry about.  We’re moving soon.  Let’s all just get along.

I commend the opossum who figured out how to get up there. Justin went out to investigate when we first heard them– there are no external entrances to this spot. And if there were, she (mama opossum) would have to climb a barely attached gutter or use a tree down the block to gain access to the roof then run the length of the rowhouses to get back to ours and still figure out how to get into the space under our roof.

I have a theory: our bathroom and back hallway were an addition, part of this addition was a really crappy crawlspace for lawn supply storage.  This space has a door, but it is only a wooden box built to connect the back wall of our house and the addition. There is no access to the inside of the house from this little storage space, but there is access to the inside of the walls.  My theory is that this mama opossum found her way into our storage space and realized that she could get up into the heated part of the house by climbing up the walls. That makes it fairly earned. She can raise her brood above our heads.

These opossums aren’t hurting us– far from it. Actually, we are benefiting from hosting these marsupials.  We have not seen nor been bitten by a tick since they moved in. By having so many of them so close to us and our pets, they probably have saved us more than they realize– just by being opossums and eating ticks. The New York Times even dubbed them “environmental vacuum cleaners” stating that they also eat mice and other nuisance critters. The National Opossum Society describes these guys as having 50 teeth, excellent climbing abilities and as being nonconfrontational.  Justin calls them our Marsupial Overlords (our unmentioned roommates).

  Surrounded by (Black) and Yellow

When we first started dating, Justin, would never use or carry a yellow Bic lighter.  He claimed that they were bad luck – every time he was in a car accident he had a yellow lighter in his pocket; flipped his car doing donuts on a gravel road: yellow lighter on the floor board; found out his parents had euthanized his childhood dog in secret: yellow lighter in his pocket– every bad thing that has happened to him was attributed to the color yellow.  And as I sit on our porch with Tristen and Gemma enjoying this fluke moment of sunshine, I am starting to think he was right.  

The Abandonment is surrounded by yellow– the rowhouses that create its left and front most sides are made of yellow brick, our sunflowers cast their golden reflections on the cement, tattered yellow caution tape still flutters in the burnt-out house across the alley to our right, graffiti reading “Cory” glitters warmly golden on the garage facing our yard, the grassy areas will soon be stippled with fluffy dandelion heads, 10th Street is paved with yellow brick, even the tiny flowers that will bloom on the tangled mess of American bittersweet nightshade swallowing our house have yellow centers.  Yellow fills up this rewilded space.

As if to complement all this yellow, someone has added a new piece of graffiti to the rowhouses on our left, on their side facing one of the many paper streets that break up The Abandonment– I am not sure it if says “goRe” or “EoRp” or something, but it is black and yellow. The characters appear to be filled with turbulent holes and are surrounded by a black bouncy-looking cloud-shape.  I hope it says “goRe” because then it would at least provide a commentary for the burnt-out house which it faces.  The same house they removed three bodies from and have not been back to since that day in December. “goRe” complements the caution tape and the too-decayed-to-be-of-any-use buildings that inhabit The Abandonment and its un-killable plants that form its jungle groundcover in the summer months– a four-foot high welter of arrow-head shaped leaves, red-purple thick stalks with knobbed joints and deep roots, sprigs of green vine, ruffled purple leaves, burs, skunk cabbage, thorns, wild strawberry, coal, concrete, broken glass, railroad rocks, scratched marbles, brown-black city dirt.

On a whim, I decided to investigate these plants– to see what species inhabit this brown-black coal strewn dirt. Jimsonweed seems to have taken over the rocky section towards the middle– it reached six feet high that summer we barely had any rain. Its reddish stalks stand tall with barbed triangular leaves and spiky seedpods.  London rocket with its tiny yellow flowers and thin rocket-ship-leaves grows towards the pool and out by the television grave yard.  When its dry, the only color is the rusty-red stalks of jimsonweed and the purple leaves of something that looks like rhubarb with short stalks and oblong ruffled leaves.  When it is dry the ground stays brown-black and sun baked, letting only the jimsonweed grow.

When the ground stays wet mustard, pinweed, clover, milkweed bloom yellow, pink, white and the nightshade berries turn red and stink adding to the dankness coming from the ever-flooded marshland that will soon support McKees Rock’s entire mosquito population, landscape of scattered tires and liquor bottles, the rare shopping cart.  

The Abandonment owns “goRe” as if a fragrance.  With the weather warming, I cannot help but remember the summer smells: cat poo (its mostly cat poo) and dirt and decay and that moist rotting smell and mud and green– that smell that foliage has that just smells green and alive– and stagnant water and rust and wet wood and alcohol and marijuana and cigarette smoke and pizza and baking bread and car paint and spray paint and car exhaust and concrete.  It is nature in the city. It is city in nature. The Abandonment is where they meet and eddy together like how the Allegheny meets the Monongahela to form the Ohio– blue churning together with brown to form turbulent green waters. Here the city churns together with nature to create this brown-black dirt– this mixture of what humans made and what made humans.  

  The Truce

Yesterday night, I was awake in the odd hours between Tristen’s hungry cries when I saw his tale slither behind my crockpot. Our nightly marauder– a common brown rat. Rattus norvegicus, the most common rat species in North America thrives in urban areas and on ships.  Rattus norvegicus seems to have evolved beyond their Asian-plains-origin to live alongside us, or rather this brown rat has.  He chose our home for his foraging ground.  Locked in our silent agreement, we are participating in one of the oldest human-animal relationships: we gather surplus food, he eats off that surplus, and eventually our cats will eat him. But right now, he wants to eat their food.  

Our kitchen was dim– lit by a nightlight shaped like Darth Vader’s head– but I could just see the outline of his round body and two little ears. He was definitely hiding behind the crockpot. Probably waiting for me to sleepily wander past him.

Maybe I have done this before. Maybe he has waited me out countless times this winter. Waiting in the snug little space behind our crockpot and next to the heater vent; tucked up underneath our butcher rack and away from the cats’ reach.  Just soaking up the warmth and waiting for his chance to dart across the kitchen.

I imagine his little belly is grumbling and that he is cussing me out for delaying him.

Or maybe he is a worrier and is doubting his whole plan. Thinking that darting back into the basement and making a run for the drain pipe is a better option than waiting me out.  

But then I remember we are talking about cat food here– carbs, protein and fat– he cannot pass this up. It is too cold outside to go back with an empty belly. So he waits.

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t know I have seen him. He doesn’t know that I know he has visited before.  He comes in through The Abandonment – the two-inch drainage pipe from our laundry room pokes out of the concrete block and out into the mess of jimsonweed and garbage. He climbs up rusted metal, lifts the drain cover, scurries up our stairs and into our kitchen.

He doesn’t know that we have chosen not to poison him.  That my husband and I are allowing him into our home. We have come to an agreement with this urban nature. This wildness that seeks us out.

We have drawn a truce with nature. Once cities sought to conquer the natural world with their brick and glass and metal industrialization but with each drop in our economy, in the housing market, in the job market, in the value of the US Dollar, nature takes a little back. She sinks her tendrils deeper into that rotting wood, wriggles her roots further into our sewer systems, pummels paint from siding with rain and wind. Broken windows let her into old homes wetting their dry-walled and plastered ceilings, caving them in to let birds and squirrels nest in the rafters.  Urban re-wilding is as natural as a fallen tree turning to mold. Nature conquers all that is put before her. Why should McKees Rocks or Stowe Township be any different?  Why should concrete divide what is human with what is natural when humans came out of nature. These animals have adapted and overcome the harsh environment humans have put before them.  They are evolution at its most basic.

We are the bridge between survival and defeat.  We destroyed the natural habitat, the rich riverlands, and put up our concrete-and-wood dwellings poisoning the land so we must to pay restitution: the choice not to poison our little marauder, in letting the opossums share our space, in planting sunflowers, by tossing wrinkled potatoes over our fence, by being lazy with our trash we participate in our ecosystem and contribute to the urban wild. We are the only porchlight in The Abandonment.