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m0thmellow · 1 year ago

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Nature's fine beings | Astarion x M!Tav

The shadow-cursed lands are no place for Tav, their dragonborn druid leader. Astarion notices the man having a hard time and lets him hang around for a bit.

Or; Astarion fixes his jacket while dragonborn Tav gets fed snacks and comfort.

All my warmups are beginning to just create their own story, so here's Tav the dragonborn in case anyone was curious. Cross-posted on Archive probably.

Sticking to the shadows was something Astarion had been used to for centuries, considering being in the light could very well end his second life as fast as it began. Though, trudging through the shadow cursed lands had him on edge just as much as the rest of their team, their torches were clutched close to their bodies with Tav carrying the lantern up front for better coverage.

The dragonborn himself seemed.. well, stressed. The lack of nature and the dreaded shadows had the man’s frills grow rigid whenever he picked up any kind of noise. Astarion didn’t blame him, there was no noise that was deemed good in this situation, as most wildlife and other noisy things weren’t present apart from the cursed ones.

Astarion did not want to encounter another shadow-cursed needle blight.

Still picking the remainders from his once lovely jacket, cursing to himself as the seams ripped from the small needle. That must’ve caught the attention of .. something, because within another second they were thrusted into another battle, this time surrounded by shadows and Harpers - which Astarion hadn’t even registered, too busy with his vanity project.

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The harpers had a protected Inn as a base, one that was now open to their merry band of weirdos. Astarion was delighted so to say, eyes scanning along the innards of the building, noticing the young tieflings that they had saved back at the grove. They had come across the carnage on the road, Tav had seen it but hadn’t spoken a word about the subject.

All the acknowledgement they got was a sad nod after Wyll’s comment about the poor bastards. Tav had a conversation with Jaheira, stupidly drank a klauthgrass tainted glass of wine, despite knowing that it had been drugged. It seemed to work though, as Astarion watched from a distance. The older half-elf had lowered her weapons below the table and seemed to be less on guard with the serum active.

Tav still managed to choose his words rather carefully, systematically throwing in some words of Sylvanus to pull Jaheira in even more. The spawn had noticed this technique to be used on nearly everyone, at least everyone who let him. The dragonborn did it to him as well, trying to stir the conversation by answering in a way Astarion liked, but the spawn knew it wouldn’t be his utmost first response.

Perhaps the excuse they were given for the dragonborn’s slow replies was merely that.. an excuse to cover up his more calculated approach at conversation.

Or Tav really could have issues with speaking in Common, surrounded by so many people who spoke it perfectly.

The conversation between the two druids was over as quickly as it began, Jaheira handed them a map and directed them to ‘pick a bed of their choosing’. So the group dispersed, wanting to find their favorite spots within the Inn, while Astarion wandered out to the barn. When arriving at the place, he noticed a small set of stairs leading to the upper floor of the building.

There he found a safe haven, setting down his bag and claiming the area as his. Sure the occasional blacksmith noises weren’t nice, but come ‘nighttime’ Dammon would also head inside the Inn to relax. And for the first time in a while, Astarion would be fully alone, without it being a punishment.

So he went to work, setting up his things on the bed, a raggedy blanket slipped under the dusty covers, before turning to his ruined jacket. A defeated sigh slipped from his lips, realizing the golden thread he had stored away, was nowhere near as long as he originally thought it was. The spawn debated just using a different color, but with the background being white, it would be too noticeable and too… damaging to his well-put together disguise.

He laid the jacket over his arm and moved outside yet again, now being met with a rather lively campfire, tieflings and companions chatting away about their adventures and mourning the lost, while the several Fists moved between the bar and the fire to hand out drinks. This wasn’t a time for celebration, their entire group had been wiped out and they decided drinking was their only option.

With a scoff, Astarion joined them anyway. Far enough from the fire so he wouldn’t be included in conversation, but close enough to still hear whatever was being said. Halsin and Jaheira joined them after their discussion and the party livened up a little after that.

“Say, Jaheira?” The high harper turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised as she motioned him to go on. “You wouldn’t happen to have some gold thread, would you darling?”

The harper let out a dry laugh and nodded her head, slipping her hand into her well sewn pocket to pull out a small ball of thread. “I expect to get it back before sunrise tomorrow.”

The spawn scoffed but nodded anyway and that was that. His hands moved quickly, slipping the thread through the eye of the needle, scooting just a bit closer to the fire so he could see before opening the jacket to start his known routine.

By now this jacket should’ve disintegrated from the amount of abuse it’s taken, but with careful repairs and utmost precaution to not be hit with slashing weapons, Astarion was managing to keep it around for as long as he had been. As he poked the needle through the fabric for the first time, a rather heavy and scaly head laid down on his shoulder, the heat pierced directly through the thin shirt he wore.

Huff.

The sheer velocity of the dragonborn’s exaggerated breath nearly blew his curls into all sorts of positions. The man didn’t relent though, keeping his head on Astarion’s shoulder as his mismatched eyes followed every movement the spawn’s hands were making.

“Well, hello to you too darling.” Not once did his hands stop their movements, eyes managing to catch sight of the dragonborn’s chin spikes and frills when he turned ever so slightly. Tav had always taken a liking to him, from the moment they took him along, the dragonborn held nothing but sheer admiration in his looks. “What troubles you on this fine day?”

The dragonborn huffed again, this time less hard before he moved to sit behind Astarion. Paying no mind to the rustling behind him, the spawn weaved the thread through the fabric, watching the embroidered pattern return the longer he kept going. This wasn’t the first time he had to repair that specific part and it definitely wouldn’t be the last, but every time he did, he could see his skills improving.

“The curse.” A dragonborn of a few words for sure, Tav laid his head back on the vampire’s shoulder, carefully wrapping his arms around his waist and spreading his legs to shuffle in fully. The vampire stiffened a bit once the other heat engulfed his back, fingers momentarily stopping to glance back at a troubled Tav.

The sad look in those bright eyes had Astarion nearly buckle at his knees, returning back to his project to hide the feeling within his stomach. The pale elf reached over to grab one of the dried pieces of meat, breaking off part of it and holding it over his shoulder.

Tav let out a small noise of appreciation, giving his waist a small squeeze before gently trapping the meat between his teeth, frills twitching before he laid his jaw back down.

“Tell me about it.” Tav shifted behind him, leaning up just enough to watch the spawn’s hands work. Then, silence followed and Astarion didn’t mind it for once. The poor man had talked a lot that day, trying to convince people they aren't a threat even with the tadpole in their heads. Frankly Astarion was always bewildered how such an intimidating man could pacify others so easily, dare he say he almost admired the dragonborn for his quick wit and awkward charms.

“Everything is dead or dying,” Tav began, large hands tightening their hold on the vampire, as if the curse would snatch him away any second. Astarion had endured the bulk of Tav’s affectionate ways, the dragonborn was rather touch-starved and well Astarion didn’t mind the warmth it gave him. “I can hear them, feel them.”

An encouraging hum slipped from the spawn’s lips, grabbing another piece of meat for the dragonborn to chew on. Tav’s habits were easy to see, a couple of telltales were often enough to show how much of an open book the man really was. The habit of grinding his jaws when worried or stressed was a dangerous one, Astarion had already seen it go wrong once, where the man’s teeth slipped from their pointed edges and sawed into the scaled lip to bring blood.

But the beef jerky seemed to work, the dragonborn chewed on it aggressively, at least keeping his lips and gums safe from those razor sharp teeth. “Halsin spoke of a boy, a spirit of this land that’s been lost within the Shadowfell. Getting him back should restore the curse, but he mentioned it was a difficult mission just the two of us wouldn’t be able to accomplish.”

Astarion sighed softly, finishing off one side with a small knot and bringing the thread up to Tav’s lips for his teeth to cut. The dragonborn didn’t need to be asked twice, leaning over his shoulder fully to snip the line. Then, before taking back his place on his shoulder, Tav’s head turned and the soft part of his nose pressed against the spawn’s cheek hard enough to smush it a little bit.

“You won’t have to do it alone with Halsin darling,” Astarion hummed, frogging the other side of his jacket's golden thread to redo it as well. He was busy with it anyway and Jaheira had given him the thread to use as much as he wanted. “You have an entire group of misfits who are eating out of your very palm, you just don’t notice it.”

Tav stiffened on his shoulder again, head raising to glance around the campfire. By now most of their companions had gone outside too, chatting with each other like they had known each other for years. “Really?”

This time it was Astarion’s turn to laugh, abandoning the jacket for a split second to flick his fingers against Tav’s white scaled nose.

“Yes, you.. you oaf.” The irritated tone in his voice definitely caught Tav off guard, his body sliding backwards to give Astarion space while his hands hovered over the vampire’s waist. “Half of them want to bed you, the other half are so utterly enchanted by you that they will glare at us now from this position alone.”

A small glance to the side revealed the truth rather quickly, Gale was sitting off to the side, book in hand but he hadn’t flipped the page in at least 20 minutes, brown eyes peering just over the edge of the book, staring directly at them. When Tav looked as well, the wizard averted his eyes quickly, a red blush painting over his cheeks.

“See?!” A deep breath allowed Astarion to get ahold of himself again. Having an outburst to their unofficial leader wasn’t what he intended on doing tonight, but for Gods sake, this dragonborn was a handful to deal with on his own. “Now if you please, I would like to continue fixing my ruined jacket.”

Silence followed after that and Astarion went back to frogging the embroidered thread, throwing the dirty line away and moving to fix it with Jaheira’s lovely gift. The warmth behind him didn’t return, Tav seemingly shifting further away to completely disappear from the conversation and the campfire alike.

“I never said you had to leave.” Barely above a whisper, Astarion wasn’t sure if the dragonborn had even heard it, but the soft shuffling behind him confirmed he had. Tav didn’t scoot closer than he had been, but he did peek over Astarion’s shoulder every now and then.

So the spawn continued, feeding and sewing for the evening while the rest of their group slowly began to trickle into their respective beds for the night. The campfire crackled in front of them, Alfira’s music filled the now dead air and once the last of their companions left, Astarion felt his shoulders relax.

Alone at last.

“So,” Or not. The spawn sighed but listened anyway as the dragonborn scooted to sit beside him, looking up at the dome above them with a nervous flick of his tail. “Which one do you belong to?”

“Hm?” A flick of his eyes around the campfire confirmed the dragonborn was indeed talking to him, ruby eyes meeting green-yellow ones out of curiosity. “What?”

Tav laughed softly, hand moving to rub along the back of his frills as they shuttered in anticipation. It took perhaps a minute for Tav to respond, Astarion watching those eyes darting to formulate his words in the best way he knew how.

“You said half of them wanted to bed me and half of them are enchanted by me?” Astarion nodded slowly, connecting the dots way faster than he would’ve liked. He could still plead ignorance, but by his own words he couldn’t avoid the meaning of them. “What half do you belong to?”

Tav’s voice had softened to a tone so unlike the druid that Astarion wondered if they took the wrong dragonborn with them. A tone so feathery that the spawn would’ve mistaken it for a rustle of the wind, had there been any. There was no tension within his words and absolutely no urgency. He simply watched the spawn with curiosity and waited for an answer.

Astarion didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t give the answer he wanted to give, because it simply wasn’t true and at this point Tav would notice he was lying. Both options were valid, even if Astarion didn’t want to admit to the second one. Considering his options, bedding the dragonborn was the best answer. After all he was obviously in his seduction attempts and he surely didn’t want to put a name to the fluttery feeling he got whenever he was around Tav.

“What do you think darling?” A musical amused tone laced his words and caught the dragonborn off guard, his eyes widening at the question being returned to him. His eyes slipped down to the ground after, nervously fiddling with his hands before glancing up to see if Astarion was kidding.

He was not.

“Well?”

Tav sighed, eyes closing for a moment as his maw opened to speak, those razor sharp teeth on full display as he started with a nervous stutter. “I-I would hope it would at least be one of them,” As he spoke, Astarion caught sight of his forked tongue slipping through his teeth, flicking the air and scenting if he could taste any kind of emotion from the vampire. “I’d say the bedding aspect probably, if it had to be one of them.”

Astarion’s chest tightened uncomfortably, his lungs shriveled and his heart quenched at the sound of Tav’s wavering voice. He hadn’t ever thought the dragonborn held such a high opinion of him. Tav’s eyes met his and the forked tongue slithered out to scent again, but the dragonborn didn’t take his eyes away. This time, Astarion smirked, noticing that Tav was most definitely taken aback by some of his teasing.

Perhaps he could make use of this as well.

“Well, my love.” A purr unintentionally slipped through his words, Astarion grabbed another piece of jerky and turned around to the dragonborn with a smile. Tav flitted his eyes between the meat and Astarion for a second, eyebrows furrowing in silent question of what the spawn was planning. “Perhaps you deserve another treat for being so open with me.”

The spawn slowly moved the jerky up to his own lips, holding it between his fangs with a teasing look in those ruby eyes. Tav shuttered, the frills on the side of his head twitched and those mismatched eyes had trouble staying locked with Astarion’s.

“W-wha..?” Astarion leaned closer, Tav leaned back, eyes widening even more. “A-are, you sure?” His pale fingers slithered over the others chest scales, up to his neck and eventually they snaked their way to the man’s horns. He wrapped his fingers along the base of the keratin, dragging the man down to his level. Then, he nodded and Tav exploded.

The dragonborn growled, but leaned in, pressing their lips together and very gently prying the jerky from Astarion’s teeth, accidentally nicking his forked tongue against the larger fangs. Blood pooled onto Tav’s tongue and in return, he flicked it against the spawn’s.

Instinctively the spawn pulled back, eyes blown wide with euphoria and lust mixing with the warmth in his mouth. It wasn’t a lot of blood, but the heat and tingling on his tongue definitely made up for it. Large scaled hands found his waist and a second later he was hoisted into the dragonborn’s lap, arms tightening their hold as Tav laid his head against his chest.

“Apologies,” The dragonborn purred. “I did not mean to do that.” It took a couple seconds for Astarion’s mind to reboot itself, eyes slipping down to meet the lizard on his chest. Then he raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile, one mimicked seconds later by Tav.

“Oh you oaf,” A flick of his finger against the dragonborns nose earned him a low rumble. “You definitely meant to do that.” Tav’s smile widened, another rumble followed and he closed his mismatched eyes. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Tav hummed, yellow eye slipping open to gauge the spawn’s response before letting his hands settle on the man’s backside. “More now than I was before, especially with one of nature’s fine beings on my lap.” Astarion snorted, let his hands slide across the male’s scaled head and brushed his fingernails behind the frills, having them fluttering in response.

“Good, enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Oh I fully intend to.”

And that he did, for the rest of the evening, Tav had his head on Astarion’s chest while the spawn managed to finish his forgotten sewing project.

#tav x astarion #bg3 oc #astarion one shot #astarion #astarion my beloved #tavstarion #dragonborn tav #druid tav #no triggers #small spoilers for act 2 #no beta we die like Ethel #sad tav gets snack time

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utilitycaster · 11 months ago

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I'm Reading the Drizzt Novels and You Can't Stop Me: Exile

I DID knock a second book out, which means at this rate I will start reading books I haven't already read by May if we go by "two in a month" but by late March if we go by "one a week" I should probably speed this up.

Exile is much simpler plot wise and also, despite being the middle child of the Dark Elf trilogy, is the best, because it's Drizzt Depression Hours and also is our last long look at Menzoberranzan drama for a while.

So Drizzt and his lavender orbs ran away from Menzoberranzan at the end of Homeland, and Exile covers this period. Basically, being alone in the Underdark is soul-crushing, and he develops a dissociative identity he calls The Hunter who is focused on survival, but is at the risk of losing his personhood but for Guenhwyvar, who, as an astral plane summoned spirit of a panther, can only be around half a day every two days. He is fucking losing it and himself and is constantly having internal battles because he's so desperately lonely he risks being found by potentially hostile creatures but also The Hunter is like STOP WHAT ARE YOU DOING and generally he is utterly miserable. I enjoy this kind of shit in fiction, so this is great.

Back in Menzoberranzan, House Do'Urden, with help from Bregan D'aerthe (more on this in a second), wrecks but doesn't fully annihilate House Hun'ett but Head Matron Baenre is like "you shall absorb House Hun'ett and take your place on the ruling council of the eight top matrons" to Malice because Lolth wills it. Why does Lolth will it? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Anyway SiNaFay Hun'ett does NOT like this but goes along with it, pretending to be the eldest Do'Urden daughter. Briza Do'Urden, meanwhile, hates this.

Let's talk about Bregan Da'erthe because it's led by the greatest fucking guy ever: Jarlaxle. Jarlaxle is, undeniably, the most gay-coded character that has ever fucking existed. He is a bald drow man (in a matriarchal society) and exists outside the house structure, running a band of (male) rogues and mercenaries and assassins for hire and is basically making the most of his low status by being 100% only out for himself at all times. His outfit is rainbow colored in both the heat spectrum (this is how drow darkvision is explained, that they simply have infrared) AND the regular light spectrum. He owns what I think I described as boots of cuntiness which permit him to be soundless OR make sound, and canonically in a later book deliberately makes heel click sounds on a soft carpet in order to be Like That. He is generally at all times introduced as being one of a kind and out of the bounds of typical drow society and I love him.

The core of the plot actually kicks off when Malice sends Dinin and Briza (Drizzt's older brother and sister) to find him in the tunnels and kill him. They do find him, but fail to kill him, and Drizzt realizes "oh huh the highlight of my entire fucking year was my horrible siblings trying to murder me bc I'm so touch-starved that the lash of Briza's whip feels good, I should...do something about this." (He is also tormented bc he nearly breaks his vow to never kill another drow; as a paladin fan I love someone tormented by a nearly broken vow but like, babygirl they tried to kill you, you're being silly). What he does, because there's no therapy in the Underdark, is start stalking the svirfnebli, and eventually he sneaks into Blingdenstone, where they live. He turns himself in and basically gives himself over to their mercy on the grounds that he'd rather die among a relatively decent-seeming society than become more and more murderous in the tunnels. This will be echoed in a very unsubtle way by another character later.

Malice, realizing that Lolth is getting really mad that they can't seem to kill Drizzt, asks for a major boon which is inexplicably called Zin-carla, which basically lets her semi-puppet/semi-observe through the eyes of a reanimated Zaknafein, on the grounds that he is the only person who can probably kill Drizzt and also, well, it's real malicious. To do this, she sacrifices SiNaFay, which she and Briza think is just grand. Drizzt is at this time getting interrogated by gnomes who have silly names and talk a bit like Yoda, but eventually he asks about the gnome whom he spared during a patrol years ago. This gnome, named Belwar Dissengulp (this is not remotely the stupidest name in this series) vouches for him and also has sweet stone-working hands. He takes in the deeply traumatized Drizzt, who, after a brief but mercifully non-lethal Hunter outburst while hanging out with some gnome youths, starts to reacclimate to society and be like "wow so you're NOT all scheming against each other constantly? I must be in paradise." The gnomes begin to accept him as well and return his surrendered scimitars and panther, and all is very heartwarming until one day the Zakafein attacks.

This comes to the attention of the council of Blingdenstone because one of them, named Firble (also not the stupidest name in this series) is paying Jarlaxle for intel. This all travels up the line to King Schnicktick (still not the stupidest name in this series but we're getting up there) who's like Drizzt you gotta leave, and he does, but Belwar goes with him, so it's way less sad!

The rest of the book is their adventures running from Zaknafein and Drizzt being like "but my father is dead! but how" and I went long on the summary of the earlier stuff so the important things are:

They come across a pech (intelligent little rock creature) who has been polymorphed into a hook horror by an evil wizard and is losing himself and becoming the monster, in, yes, a very unsubtle and literal parallel to Drizzt. They call him Clacker and travel with him.

They run into the evil and deeply unhinged wizard who has a (written) accent I can best describe to TAZ fans as "Magic Brian" and best describe to D20 fans as "Romance Partner Baron from the Baronies." I am not an audiobook woman but I'm tempted to see how this is done in audio format.* Anyway Clacker loses himself to a rage and murders the wizard (Brister Fendlestick, not the stupidest name etc) and Drizzt is currently a fighter and Belwar has very limited abilities re: magic as well so they can't do anything about this. Also it's 2e right now so idk if you can just dispell or if you do need the original wizard.

The crew gets trapped by illithids who do their creepy-ass mind-control but as Zak is undead, he comes through like a sword tornado and unintentionally frees Drizzt, Belwar, and Clacker from their mind-slavery. Combat between our heroes, Zak, AND the illithids ensues and as Drizzt considers returning to Menzoberranzan to kidnap a wizard to help Clacker, Zak kills Clacker.

All of the above is interspersed with multiple cuts to Malice losing her shit as she focuses on controlling Zak from afar. Jarlaxle and Matron Baenre occasionally muse on the fate of House Do'Urden, which is truly up in the air as all this happens. House Baenre lends soldiers to help House Do'Urden defend itself while Malice is occupied; Dinin notices Bregan D'aerthe among them.

Drizzt and Zak have a final showdown in a cavern with ledges and also a giant pool of acid. Malice briefly loses control of Zak, who wrests control of his spirit and explains the situation to Drizzt and then jumps into the acid, ending his undeath. This is VERY bad for Malice, who is already as discussed falling apart (mostly figuratively but she has been rapidly aging as well).

Briza immediately stabs her mother to become the new Matron (Briza SUCKS but also this does make sense in that it's clear Malice has failed Lolth so it is the best chance for the house). However, House Baenre then launches its attack. Briza and Maya (who really has a very minor role in all this, Drizzt's unseen sister; fanfic writers this is some fertile ground for toxic yuri) are killed but Vierna is taken as essentially a spoil of war/powerful asset to be folded into the strength of Baenre. Dinin meanwhile is recruited by Jarlaxle, and seeing no other choice, takes it. (Fanfic writers this is some fertile ground for toxic yaoi).

Drizzt returns briefly to Blingdenstone with Belwar but is asked to leave as he did pose a threat by being there and, frankly, agrees. He decides to go to the surface with Guenhwyvar and see what happens next.

Anyway iirc book 3's most memorable things are 1. some sort of tragic event involving children who call Drizzt a "Drizzit" 2. Mooshie, who is not canonically Quebecois but is in vibes, taking Drizzt in. After that we jump to the wildly tonally different Crystal Shard (and Icewind Dale Trilogy) which I will attempt to summarize more briefly and with minimum grumbling about how much Wulfgar is a timesuck.

*apparently the guy who reads the Drizzt novels on audiobook is Victor Bevine, who is also CEO of some sort of Parkour-related foundation. However, Jason Charles Miller played Drizzt in a video game in 2013 which is very cool.

#i'm reading the drizzt novels and you can't stop me #m reads lod #long post

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weaversweek · 2 months ago

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26 "Last Christmas" - Wham!

writer George Michael

"It doesn't matter that the speaker misread the relationship. What matters is that we, the audience, can identify with him. And perhaps in that way, we truly learn the meaning of Christmas."

Part of the UncoolTwo50 project, marking the best singles from 1977-99.

Written one afternoon in 1984, "Last Christmas" is a simple tale of love, rejection, and regret.

Last year, George met someone. They were looking for sympathy, company, perhaps a no-strings-attached shag. George wanted there to be strings, he thought there was more emotional connection than was reciprocated. And when it came, the rejection really, really stung.

For a year, George has been licking his wounds, building up this brief fling into something bigger than it really was. Hyperbole is his weapon, ideas like "your soul of ice", "you tore me apart" abound in the verses; perhaps "the very next day, you gave it away" is a similar misremembering.

And now, he's not entirely surprised to find his erstwhile paramour doesn't recognise him. George remembers, because it meant something to him; the other partner does not, because it was a one-and-done screw. However much it hurts, George has also moved on, and found someone else more worthy of his "heart".

We have to pause and consider, is there something George wasn't telling us? Note how George never declares any gender for his paramour. Lines like "a man under cover" and "you tore him apart" take on a very different meaning now that we know George was gay, and the heteronormative reading we all assumed in 1984 is almost certainly wrong.

We could interpret "Last Christmas" as a coded argument between gay men, one is prepared to acknowledge their relationship in public, the other is not. Or one wants to settle down, the other wants to screw around. Or one cannot understand why the other remains in the closet.

Whatever the meaning, "Last Christmas" is a festive record through and through. George personally supervised every note, each sleighbell, the production and the vocals - this record is George Michael from conception to wise men. The Life of a Song column noted,

"Shiny round synth baubles bounce up and down the octave as the tune takes tinsel twists around the torn-up vocal. It's a brilliant sonic evocation of how it feels to be isolated from the seasonal cheer, mustering smiles for department cashiers in elf hats before hurrying home to sob into the egg nog."

The Atlantic set the song in its greater cultural milieu:

"Christmas is also one of the few yearly rituals that the bulk of Western society still partakes in. Which means that most everyone has a memory of their Last Christmas, and everyone has aspirations for This Year (when we take measures, in vain, to be Saved From Tears). Wham! is tapping into the holiday’s unique ability to make people take stock and look ahead. "The band is also tapping into the fact that, contrary to the notion of seasonal cheer, many holiday memories are negative—tinted by sadness, loss, or anger, depending on how that year ended for you. It’s probably the bitterest Christmas tune we’ve got, and to say its bitterness keeps it from being a Christmas tune denies the nature of the holiday itself."

George recorded "Last Christmas" by himself, but the video included Andrew and Pepsi and Shirlie, model Kathy Hill, Shirlie's boyfriend Martin Kemp, and some friends. The video was filmed at Saas-Fee in Switzerland just a few weeks before the song was released; that's real November 1984 snow. The director made sure that the wine glasses contained real alcohol, and most of the cast got roaringly drunk.

youtube

An instant classic, it sold 840,000 copies by the end of 1984, a further 355,000 in 1985, and trickle-sold each Christmas. Kept off the number one spot in 1984 by Band Aid, eventually becoming the Top of the Pops Christmas number one in 2023.

It's been covered by almost everyone, in almost every style - Last-Christmas.com recognised over 200 cover versions by 2008, Second Hand Songs listed 541 versions earlier this month. George Michael never saw a penny of the royalties; he signed over the composer's rights, and his share of the performance rights, to the Band Aid trust. Spotify only pays a farthing for each stream; those farthings add up and do something good for the world.

"Last Christmas" has become so pervasive that there's an organised attempt to not hear the song during December. Whamageddon originated circa 2008, and has spawned similar efforts to avoid "Fairytale of New York" (qv) and "All I want for Christmas is you". Although I'm too polite to spoil other people's sport, I'm really not a fan of Whamageddon; it smacks of being performatively cool, has faint overtones of homophobia, and surely the point of great music is that one enjoys it. My friend Dan has the right idea: play "Last Christmas" every day during December.

Under the rules of UncoolTwo50, "Last Christmas" is aggregated with its double-A companion "Everything she wants". Having written 800 words on the other side, time does not permit me to discuss this Gramscian deconstruction of the Thatcherite settlement presented through the lens of a relationship.

Other Christmas number ones under consideration: "Always on my mind" (1987) made the 100-song shortlist, as did "Do they know it's Christmas" (1984). The 500-song longlist featured "Killing in the name" (2009), "Stay another day" (1994), and the 1986 Network Chart winner "Caravan of love". And this is the closest Spandau Ballet get to my fifty; "Gold" and "True" were both considered for the longlist.

#wham!#george michael #andrew ridgeley #last christmas #whamageddon #queer music #there is no heterosexual explanation for this behaviour #christmas music #1984 #one of the 50 greatest songs of the late 20th century #uncool two 50 #uncooltwo50 #pop music #20th century #1977-1999

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the-loveliest-lotus · 1 year ago

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Kloktober 2023: Day 3 - Mordhaus Costume Ball

I have had the intrusive thought of Vater Orlaag dressed as Black Beard loosely based off of the version of Black Beard from Our Flag Means Death for two or three weeks now. This is probably rated about Teen and as usual includes my OC Lucy. 1,711 words below the cut. <3 Also wanted to mention that Charles' costume description was inspired by this post by @chordsykat

“Master, you’re certain that I’m the best choice for this?”

“Out of anyone here, you’re the best at masking yourself.” At least, he was the best at it other than Salacia, but Salacia couldn't exactly go to the Ball even disguised, the Dead Man would recognize him immediately.

Vater Orlaag nodded, but internally he felt the equivalent of a long-suffering sigh.

~~~~~

The Mordhaus Costume Ball was, in a word, opulent. The room that the band typically used to put on performances for new Klokateers was cleared out and decorated with Victorian Gothic décor, and they were calling it the “Mask of the Red Deth” Costume Ball. It was mostly other celebrities who had been invited, metal musicians and musicians that the band had simply met with throughout the years, but there were also some actors milling about and a few high-ranking Klokateers who were in attendance as guests, a reward for their service to the band.

Everyone in the band was dressed to the nines: Nathan was wearing a black ruffled shirt and leather pants that tied rather than buttoned up. His mask was a leather skull in metallic gold. Murderface wore something more period accurate for nobility that had actually made him feel attractive when he looked in the mirror, a black and red mask complimenting the outfit. Toki wore something that looked almost like a dark Viking outfit in blacks and greens with a mask that had long golden horns as part of it. Skwisgaar looked elf-like, opting for a more androgynous costume in whites and golds, and accented with silver elf ear jewelry combined with a wire wrapped mask.

Pickles looked, in a word, stunning. His dreads were up, and he was wearing tight leather pants, knee high boots, and a black shirt underneath a black and red leather trench coat with pointed shoulders. His mask looked like a black and red skull, emphasizing the theme of the Ball. Lucy was in a corseted black and blood red ball gown with spider web mesh sleeves and a traditional French style corset top, straight lined at the top allowing for what most would consider a minor wardrobe malfunction, something that she had convinced Charles to allow her to get away with because she was “in her own damned ‘haus and the French used to do this as a fashion statement.” He had only agreed because the look genuinely was elegant, if not distracting. The front of the skirt only just covered her, showing off the same spider print mesh on her legs, and the back of the gown trailed slightly. She held a fan in her hand all night, and her leather mask was an intricate black cat with red, silver and gold detailing, matching the elegant collar that she was wearing with rose details tooled into the leather. Her hair was down, but there were two braids that started near her forehead and met and the back of her head like a crown, her bright rainbow hair juxtaposed with her outfit, yet somehow meshing with it perfectly.

Dick was wearing something that could be better characterized as steampunk than anything else, playing up his cybernetic eyes almost as though they were part of his mask. Even Charles was dressed up, his outfit featuring a sleek black corset that emphasized his form and a mask that looked oddly like a darker version of Facebones.

The party was in full swing, and everyone was in bright spirits, mingling, dancing, and socializing. Lucy was having a relatively in-depth conversation with Pickles, when he walked into the room. Lucy happened to glance over at the door just as he was coming in, her hand stopping mid-fan. She lost any semblance of what her best friend was saying in that moment, her eyes drinking the man in. His mask was simple black leather, only covering around his piercing blue eyes that looked like they had thick black eyeliner around them. His long, flowing wavy hair and beard were midnight black, almost as though he had dyed it just for the event, and it looked as though there was smoke coming out of the intricate braids on his beard that were curled outward. The outfit that he wore was entirely made of leather, tight leather pants hugging thick, strong thighs that left nothing to the imagination, a leather jacket that was missing one arm revealing an arm that was toned and strong, leather half gloves, and several belts, one of which had a holster with a dagger in it. He must have stood at almost 7 feet tall and he was buzzing with an intense energy.

Lucy was so busy ogling the man that she hadn’t noticed that Pickles had followed her gaze and had gone silent, now ogling him himself. “Holy shit, dood. Look, I know ya gaht first dibs, but if ya strike out er if he’s down fer a little Double Trouble, come get me, ahlreet? Fuck.”

Lucy nodded, not taking her eyes off of him. “Yeah. Gods, that’d be hot… Who the fuck is he?”

“I don’t know, but if ya don’t get over there, someone else will.”

She was already turning to start walking over to him, “You sure you don’t mind if-“

“Luce, that someone else is gahnna be me in about 5 seconds, go.”

Pickles did not need to tell Lucy twice. She was walking at a speed that indicated any semblance of dignity and restraint had already gone out the window. When she got closer, she made sure to walk with a confident stride, walking right up to him with a wicked little grin on her face.

Vater had seen her walk over, and was currently doing his absolute best not to openly stare at her chest. It didn't help in the slightest that he had an irritating attraction to this woman since the first day that she popped up on the Tribunal's giant screen during a meeting. He didn’t want to allow himself to get distracted, but part of the success of his mission of getting the information that Salacia had wanted was blending in, and that meant social pleasantries. Even still, he was hoping that she wouldn’t prove to be too much of a distraction.

Lucy stopped in front of him, her eyes full of Devilish promise and offering her hand to shake his. “I couldn’t help but notice you coming in from across the room and I had to come over to compliment your costume and introduce myself.”

He didn’t get where he was without knowing how to be charming, so when she offered her hand, Vater took it and brought it to his lips, kissing it and nibbling the knuckle slightly all while looking her in the eyes with a gaze that could have been hypnotic. Lucy bit her lip and visibly shivered, her pupils dilating from the sheer intensity of the moment, making him grin at her reaction. “Your costume choice is rather stunning as well.”

"Holy sweet Jesus, his voice." She had the thought that he could read her the period table of elements and she'd still listen without complaint. Lucy blushed and stepped in a little closer to him, reaching out and running her hand slowly and deliberately down his exposed forearm, “Why don’t we go get a drink and chat, maybe get to know each other before I inevitably drag you out of here with me?”

He chuckled darkly. She was wonderfully brazen. Perhaps he could find all the information that Salacia had needed from her. There was some distant part of his mind telling him that he was lying to himself and not to allow himself to get distracted by the slip of a woman, but that part was being loudly drowned out by the warmth of her body now very close to him and the sound of her sultry laughter.

The two of them talked for a while, Vater finding out absolutely nothing that Salacia needed and forgetting about the mission entirely after about two minutes of being in her presence.

When she finally officially invited him back to her room, Lucy raised a playful eyebrow at him, “What’s the chance you swing both ways?”

He looked at her inquisitively, and then saw her look over at Pickles, following her gaze. The Drummer was in rare form tonight, the man cleaned up well. It certainly wouldn’t be Vater’s first time with a man. There was a predatory smile on his face that made Lucy’s pupils dilate and her body shiver. From across the room, Pickles glanced up at the two of them, and seeing the look on the tall man’s face it was a wonder that he didn’t bolt across the room at them.

Pickles had a cocky smirk on his face as he approached them, walking straight up to Vater with an unholy amount of confidence, “Well, hey d’ere, tall, dark, an’ dangerous. Yah ready fer a little Double Trouble?”

There was a dark little chuckle that had Lucy and Pickles weak in the knees as the three of them walked out, one of them to each of his arms, barely making it to Lucy’s room and not coming out until sometime the next afternoon. Lucy and Pickles practically limped down to the kitchen, using each other to keep themselves upright, grinning like idiots, and Vater left with two phone numbers and very insistent “call me’s” and “get home safe’s” from the two of them.

~~~~~

When Vater arrived back at the bunker, he went immediately to see Salacia, knowing that he was hours late for the previously planned private debriefing. He was still in costume and looked as though he had got no sleep.

“What did you manage to find out?” Salacia asked him, already having the needling feeling that the mission had been a failure.

Vater looked at him, wondering if he could bullshit his way through the fact that the mission itself had failed before it started. “I was able to determine that the band can be… very persuasive… when they want to be Master.” He kept the fact that he now had two of their phone numbers to himself.

Salacia eyed the love bites on his servant’s neck and scowled.

Bonus vibe:

#kloktober2023 #kloktober 2023 #vater orlaag #pickles the drummer #lucy skye desmond #the wickerman mtl #the wicker man mtl #metalocalypse oc #mtl oc #metalocalypse

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soul-has-left-the-chat · 9 months ago

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Sleep Token + Crossfire headcanons

I see everyone making headcanons for the boys, Vesselettes and probably Sleep so I might as well share my own I've been developing for a while including my ST(?) oc <3

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Vessel

Has 6 eyes, the scleras are black

Used to be a solo singer and musician before becoming a vessel of Sleep

Is really good friends with II prior to Sleep Token; they are still besties to this day <3

Treats the minor vessels like children or siblings

Trusts II (or moreso Cross) the most

Pointed ear tips, kinda like an elf

The mask is glued to his face inconsistently so he is unable to take it off whenever he wants; Sleep decides when he can take it off

The upper half of his facial skin is gone as of result, so he lives with a brutal scar from his cheekbones and up due to how often he yearns to tear the mask off

Used to have brown hair, soon dissolved into white due to stress and Sleep's influence

Sleep punishes him in extremely fucked up ways if/when he goes against Her word or doesn't do what She requests

Green eyes w/ slitted pupils

Fangs

Black skin

Gentle and sentimental personality, ranked after Cross in terms of calmness

Youngest

Has a Stockholm Syndrome relationship with Sleep

Second tallest in terms of height

VERY light stubble

Immortal

Has a humiliation kink; submissive little bitch

Former alcoholic

Has black blood instead of red

INFJ-T

6'3

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Has 4 eyes; 2 on the left, 2 on the right; scleras are black

Was invited to become a minor vessel for Sleep by III

II is like a little brother to him; They're besties :3

Used to have brown hair like Vess, turned white; Marie-Antoinette Syndrome

Formerly a guitarist for another metalcore band then a freelance guitarist and harsh vocalist before joining Sleep Token

Has DID

Black skin

Pointed ear tips

Red eyes w/ slitted pupils

Oldest

Ranked third in terms of height (fourth if including Cross)

2nd calmest and chillest in Sleep Token after II

Immortal

Black blood as well

ISTP-A

5'10

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III

Has 3 eyes; an extra eye on his forehead that's often hidden with a beanie or headband or whatever; scleras are black

Best friends with IV

Crush on Vess?? And IV??

Pointed ear tips

Long white hair (now red) that was blond, and before that, brown

Blue eyes w/ Slitted pupils

II is his younger half-brother

Likes drinking; VERY heavy Alcoholic/drinker, also vapes

Used to be a bassist for another deathcore band prior to becoming a bassist for Sleep Token; still is part of that band, occasionally touring and hanging with his homies

2nd oldest

Tallest mf in Sleep Token

The party animal of Sleep Token; chaotic <3

Immortal

Black blood

ESTP-T

6'4.5

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II (no yellow :c)

Half-brothers with III, younger by a few months

Besties with IV

Besties with Vessel

Used to have 3 eyes but lost one due to an accident; the extra crippled one on his forehead is often covered by a hat, headband, beanie, etc like his brother; scleras are black

Yellow/Golden eyes that can change in shade based on his mood

Was the second to assimilate into Sleep's influence just after Vess; III was after, IV was the final to join

Third oldest and shortest

White hair that was brown

Fangs

Slitted pupils like everyone else

Black skin like everyone else

Pointed ear tips like everyone else lol

Anxious to take his mask off

Most mature

Immortal

THE chillest in Sleep Token

Transgender (FTM/Transmale)

Black blood

INTP-A

5'7

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C/Crossfire (OC)

(some of these were already established months/years ago so assume they're not new, also, a lot of these are self-indulgent and from previous, separate lore so apologies in advance :'P)

Fourth oldest

Previously performed with another metalcore band (feel free to guess what it is cause the answer will (not) surprise you) so the fans roughly know him, but they found it a surprise regardless

Sleep LOATHES him, so much so that She refuses to even let him TOUCH Vessel or any of the others

Finds Vess super annoying but is the closest to him

Loves to make fun of II’s height any chance he gets

III and IV helped him acquaint to the bass and guitar again respectively after years of barely playing

Vessel dedicated “Rain" to him, written specifically for their friendship(?)

The Espera are sort of like a mother/younger sisters to him lmao

A very skilled polyglot, can speak practically every language

Can kick ass, most of the time

Trauma bonded w/ Vess lmao

Drop dead gorgeous, super insecure of his looks due to that (he knows he's pretty but he hates it)

I also have a BUNCH more headcanons I came up with for him with my friends but some are kinda sensitive and I can't remember/think of any rn so they'll have to be their own post I'm really sorry >w> (I'll link it when I'm done ^^)

ISTJ-A

6'2

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The Espera/Vesselettes

The other vessels adore them like younger sisters

Has a neutral relationship with Sleep

Consists of: VI (oldest and tallest), VII (middle child), and VIII (youngest and shortest)

They're also sisters and each are exactly a year apart

They're all “blind”; VI uses echolocation, VII uses hearing and scents, and VIII uses eyeballs on her hands to see

Bandages cover their eyes

If those bandages were ever unwrapped… let's just say very bad things would happen

Has mild fishy features cause they're also known as "The Sirens" in the band too

Can breathe underwater, has fins too

Black blood

VI: ENFP-A, VII: ISFP-A, VII: ISFJ-T

VI: 6'1, VII: 5'9, VIII: 5'8

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Sleep Herself (the Bitch™)

Female cause why not

Usually androgynous/Genderfluid but often portrayed as a woman, thus, relies majorly on she/her pronouns due to the usage of the aforesaid pronouns in the lyrics

A bitch

Extremely manipulative

Damn good at taking advantage of people

Has even more vessels than Vess, II, III, and IV but most of them are dead lol

Often portrayed as a gorgeous, modest, worthy Lady in White

Can be portrayed as an octopus just tearing things apart as well

Sadistic

Enjoys punishing Vess and the other vessels in extremely fucked up ways :concern:

The ritual to assimilate into Her is very brutal and can sacrifice your own humanity, as shown in Her vessels

Has an entire cult surrounding Her

Vessel is the first ever to worship Her

Used to be the mistress of Night

Has ichor for blood

Has a separate realm for Herself to visit when talking to Her vessels

Also likes to spite II's height

xNTJ-A

Any height She chooses but usually 5'5

yah, that's all lol

(yes, I have a grudge against Sleep....)

II will always be the smallest <3

#sleep token #sleep token vessel #sleep token ii #sleep token iii #sleep token iv #sleep token headcanons #headcanons #sleep token espera #sleep token vesselettes #sleep token sleep #sleep token oc #soupie woopie writing #oc tag: crossfire/hundred

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mariamermaid · 2 months ago

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Joelle- Chapter 1

Summary: Joelle Coleman lived, since she could remember, in the circus. In the year 1936 there was a time, where the circus la d'or rosé came to New York, where it pitched its tents and planned on staying there over the winter break. For exactly three months Jo would stay in New York and go hunt her little adventures. The winter of 1936 in New York changes everything and her fate becomes entangled with that of the so-called Winter Soldier.

Words: 1.4k

Warning: Swearing, Alcohol

Masterlist

15th November, 1836

On the 15th November James Buchanan Barnes had finally persuaded his best friend Steve Rogers to go with him to the evening performance to the circus. Since a few days the circus had arrived and so, the two would not only be witnesses of a white lion and many other exotic animals, but they would witness Joelle Coleman as well. Never have they seen anything or anybody that glided through the air so elegant and feathery like her. She seemed to be a magical elf flying in the night sky of the big tent. Her expression was strong, charismatic and unforgettable.

Her mother called it the Joelle-effect; in 1933 Jo wandered through the streets of London and summed a song called Summer Love by an utterly unknown band. After this fateful day, the song ballooned to the top of the charts and became a real hit. In Paris she was able to buy a cyan dress in a boutique for 40% cheaper (the salesman was not able to concentrate in her presence) and a few weeks later, nobody was able to explain, why the color cyan was suddenly so popular. With her performances she was able to cast a spell on the whole audience and for them, it seemed like a wonderful dream. And after the show they may talk about the exotic animals, but in the end, they'll think back who the girl behind a mask of make-up was.

That was the Joelle-effect, which was experienced by Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers on this evening. After the show, they strolled through the animal enclosures, where people were allowed to see the animals again. Neither of the two friends said it, but they both thought back to the mysterious girl.

"What do think how she did it?" Bucky asked his friend and didn't even need to mention, who he was talking about. "I think she used a special fuel. It's probably made out of..."

"Hey look!" Bucky interrupted his friend and shook him on his shoulder, until Steve turned into the shown direction. Behind a few enclosures was a slit of the tent, that lead into a different part of the tent. And there she stood. A thin coat covering her costume, her hair up in a lose ponytail. "Come on let's go talk to her!" Bucky exclaimed.

"What? But Buck..." Steve wanted to complain, but then they already stood in front of her. With furrowed eyebrows Jo examined the two young men.

"What do you want here? Spectators are not allowed to be here." She said in a monotonic voice. "How do you wanna know that we're spectators?" Bucky asked and his lips formed a charming smile. Her lips twitched, then she put on a smile as well.

"Ahhh..." She said with an understanding undertone, while raising her eyebrow arrogating. "You must be the lion feed that I'm supposed to give Charlie." She said with a bittersweet smile. Steve swallowed hard when thinking about the Lion and even Buckys laugh sounded unusually nervous. He raised his hands in the air, yielding and then sighed.

"All right, doll. You win, we are spectators." He admitted and smiled truthfully at the girl. But she kept her cool and didn't let herself be ruffled by Buckys flattering way of complimenting her. That was new to Bucky. She kept going and doing her work, while ignoring the two boys who followed her. "Actually, we just wanted to stop by saying that you're show was really amazing." Jo barely listened. Of course, it was nice to get compliments, but at the end of the day, she could spare them. She was still on her way feeding animals and arrived at the enclosure for the zebras. She stepped into the enclosure while Steve and Bucky waited outside. Bucky didn't give up and casually, he put up his right foot onto the metal bar and his elbows leaned on the upper pole. He tried to compliment her again with well wrapped up verbalizations, but Steve recognized that it didn't work.

"It was a special fuel, right?" He interrupted and for the first time this evening, spoke up in Jos presence. She immediately gave him her full attention. Buckys jaw fell down and confused he looked between the two. Normally girls were oh so flattered by Buckys charming smile and they didn't even deign to look at Steve. Finally, she spoke up again, her eyes still laying on the small boy. "Yes." Then she waited, seeing if he was actually interested and then kept speaking.

"It is Gustav's special recipe." Her head nodded towards the direction of a dark corner, where a tall muscular man with a dark beard stood. In his hands he played with a few knifes, his eyes laying dangerously on Steve and Bucky. Steve couldn't even think about how long he had stood there. "But actually we're here for you." Bucky said and brought the attention back and her mysterious eyes met his blue ones. Joelle put on her smile again and with her angel like shape and her sneaky smile, she seemed like the devil herself. Beautiful and dangerous. "And what exactly do you want from me?" Barnes hoped that she couldn't tell that his hands were shaking, but without lowering her eyes she realized it and her smile began to grow.

"Well we wanted to ask if you wanna go out with us?"

"And what could we possibly do?" Bucky's mouth got dry and usually the words slipped out of his mouth so elegant with ease. "Ice skating." Steve answered quickly and the moment those words left his mouth, Bucky wanted to take them back. Because James Buchanan Barnes could not ice skate for the life of his. But now it was too late.

"Alright." She consented and elegantly she jumped over the fence. "I'll go with you ice skating."

Since it was certain that they were going ice skating, Bucky was unusually quiet and from time to time he gave Steve an evil glare. Steve shrugged innocently right before Joelle stepped out of her trailer again. Instead of her costume she wore a modern red coat, a loose skirt and high boots. She had taken off her make-up and her skin was glowing. Her hair was still up, now hiding under a cap. She smiled at the two boys, who replied with a sheepishly grin. She walked down the stairs and the last two she jumped down, then she linked her arms with Steve's and Bucky's. Steve was taken by surprise by her action, habitually he was not even existing for girls and now for the first time in a long time, he wasn't ignored.

"So, Steve", she looked to Steve. "Bucky, what are up to these days?" She looked over to Bucky, who was taller than her.

"We're planning on joining the army, Miss." Bucky explained. She laughed.

"Oh for god's sake! You can call me Jo!" Bucky watched her from the side. "Jo?" Her laugh softened, but she was still smiling.

"Joelle, I was born in France. My dad is American, my mother is French." Bucky nodded understanding. "There is the ice rink." Steve explained and showed the direction with his finger. It was a small frozen lake. Above the shimmering ice hung lampions and fairy lights, which were reflected by the lake. An older man greeted Bucky and Steve and by all appearances, they knew him. They greeted each other like old friends. Steve and Jo were quick to stay on the ice, but Bucky took his time to put on his skates. He bent down to tie his second skate when Jo slid towards him.

"Hey Bucky you coming?" She asked challenging, but when looking in his eyes, she softened. Bucky didn't answer.

"Hey if you wanted to talk to me, you need to skate with me. You wanted to talk to me, didn't you?" She grinned complacent again. "Or are you afraid?" That was enough to break down his reserve. He knew she was tricking him, but he still gave in. One foot after foot he sat them down on the ice. Steve was already skating more rounds while watching the two in amusement. There was something about Jo he really liked.

Since it was a lake, there were not boards to hold onto, so Jo put out her hand. Bucky looked at her, the sparks in her eyes told him that she meant it and her warm smile gave him bravery. He took her hand and his finger interlaced with hers. The first steps were shaky, but it didn't take long until it already improved. Jo could easily skate backwards, which wasn't surprising at all, but with time she could skate next to Bucky, her hand still holding his. If someone one of the three fell, they laughed but then they helped getting up again. And that's how they all became friends and their friendship would last longer, then they could imagine.

#mariamermaidimagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction

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xxfabulashxx · 2 years ago

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Headcanons on how well I think the teachers can cook:

Sketch - Can make very basic foods but also likes to add food colouring so yes they will be making you a bright blue mac n cheese (they also eat like Buddy the elf so that mac n cheese will be covered in chocolate and sprinkles)

Tony - The only thing he can do right is timing how long the food needs to cook, he has no idea what he's doing with ingredients or mixing (He and Sketch struggled for a while when it was just them)

Shrignold - Only knows how to make sweet things like cake and pie but not proper food, everything he makes is full of suger

Colin - Doesn't eat but has memorised random recipes due to boredom and had a mental breakdown when he saw Tony add an egg to spaghetti once

The food band - Actually know what they're doing but are very strict on what foods they will serve but at least nothing is burnt or covered in sprinkles

Larry - Crackhead recipes, is banned from the kitchen when Spinach Can caught him eating nyquil chicken, only allowed to eat things made by other people

Briefcase - Too busy with work to cook, survives off noodles mostly, if you want him to eat actual food you must bring it to him

Coffin - Has catered a few funerals so actually knows how to make a decent meal

The twins - They're only allowed to cook with easy bake ovens, probably injured themselves by sticking their fingers in it

Warren - He has never cooked in his life, diet consists of microwaved meals and fast food

Choo choo man - Only cooks 50s food recipes, no one will eat them because that shits nasty

Electracey - Also doesn't eat, forgets other people eat when she invites them over and just never gives them food but will apologise and feel bad after

#dhmis

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winterpinetrees · 1 year ago

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Last night I had a literal dream, of a Dragon Prince AU, set centuries after a nuclear apocalypse.

So in this world, the exile of humans from Xadia is more or less replaced by somone nuking the continent. Fun! There was some sort of magic/dark magic incident, or maybe there’s no magic and it’s all high tech. Either way, something went wrong, and whoops nuclear war.

The ancestors of humans remained out in the wasteland, while the rich and powerful ancestors of elves safely hid in bunkers. Six different types of bunker that would lead to the six types of elf. Either the mild radiation exposure combined with the environment gives them magic, or there’s still no magic and it’s all high tech. Dark magic either works the same way as in canon or is the act of salvaging elf tech and building it into something new.

The dragons are the rulers of the elf bunkers. They’re giant robots I think. To explain their longevity and power. Either way, Harrow, the king of one of the largest human settlements, goes on an insane quest to the Sky bunker zone and kills Avizandium out of revenge. Viran steals a power cell and brings it back, as it’s a power cell and also contains the code of Avizandum’s son. Later on, cue the two sons of King Harrow and a young Moonshadow raider retrieving the ‘egg’ and going on a quest to deliver it to Zubeia.

Characters

Callum: The 16 year old son of King Harrow. He lives in Katolis Base, among the most powerful humans. He looks about the same as he does in the series, but his big notebook has been replaced by a ‘laptop’ of about the same size and shape. It’s the most advanced tech the humans have, runs on salvaged elf power, and it’s a gift from Viren! That’s how it’s waterproof. Viren wanted him as an apprentice, but he has just no skill with tech, so he can’t be an artificer.

Ezran: The 12 year old heir of King Harrow. Also a resident of Katolis Base. Literally the same guy as in canon just aged up slightly. Bait is a radioactive mutant frog.

Rayla: A 17 year old Moonshadow raider. She’s a nomad, living among humans with her band while they scheme and sabotage. Very confident with the sabotage, less so with the direct murder. She looks pretty different. Braided white hair, five fingers on each hand (maybe she lost one pinky in an accident. We can compromise), smaller Moonshadow markings. Her outfit is more high tech looking.

Soren: The 19 year old son of Artificer Viren. He’s training to join the army, and is about the same as in the series. His outfit looks more modern. It isn’t plate armor anymore.

Claudia: The 18 year old daughter of Artificer Viren. She’s in training to be the next Artificer, so she’s great at making and repairing technology. As Artifcers “go mad with power”, they gradually transform themselves into cyborgs. It’s just what they do! Maybe they’re the sane ones and human bodies stink. So thats the equivalent of the white hair.

Locations

Katolis Base: It has mostly the same medival appearance. The world has mostly healed from the apocalypse, but human tech has not recovered to its previous level. There’s streetlights but no cell phones. Led by King Harrow and his High Artificer Viren. I can’t really draw but Harrow looks about the same. Viren is more machine than human at this point, and covers everything with clothing to hide it. Also Katolis is the name of a single city, which is the defacto capital of a large region, to clear up the scale issues of canon. Humans hate elves for being safe in bunkers all these years and not letting them in. Elven raiders also regularly show up and ruin their stuff, which adds to the hatred.

Silvergrove: The current main settlement of Moonshadow Elves. Moonshadow elves are the exception. They remained on the surface when everything blew up, and in the modern day fill all roles interacting with humans. They are traders and diplomats, but mostly raiders. Rayla is a raider. She’s spent probably half of her life in secret among humans, but still looks too uncanny to disguise as one. Runan is a raider. Ethari is a mechanic. Her parents were Sky King Avizandum’s personal guards. When a Moonshadow elf is ‘ghosted’, there’s no magic. It’s just banishment. There’s several thousand Moonshadow elves, but millions of all the other varieties.

Moonshadow: no bunkers. They stayed on the surface “under the moon’s shadow” with high tech to aid them.

Sunfire: underground bunkers in geothermal regions.

Skywing: bunkers in the remote mountains

Earthblood: bunkers like a mile underground

Tidebound: bunkers on the seafloor

Startouch: They all said “Nope!” and went into space. Aaravos is the only one to ever return. They’re probably settled on Mars by now.

I’ll probably never touch this again unless someone is interested. Thank you for reading!

#the dragon prince #dragon prince au #worldbuilding #post apocalypse #fanfic #by me

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tea-with-eleni · 22 days ago

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Fly to me, little bird, and learn...

Sequel to Invitation to Dinner. Not exactly spoilers, although I don't think more than one person alive or undead has any particularly strong memories of these events. That person is not Volenta Popofsky.

Nyshka and I looked suitable for a formal castle dinner, I decided. Jarek cleaned up well, too, when he wasn’t covered in mud or guts. Poetry looked… I frowned, adjusted some of the jewelry on their horns, then sat back in my seat in the uncanny carriage. They looked as good as they were going to get. It would last until they said something blunt and Nyshka had to kick them in the shins. That was probably the best we could hope for. Vasili had been as helpful as usual and managed to call in a few favors, so we had clothes that were more or less appropriate for the setting, probably. It was a shame the invitation hadn’t mentioned him. He could probably have kept Poetry from sticking their tail in their mouth, again.

“So, place your bets,” Nyshka said, strumming a few chords on her lute. “Who’s the vampire lord going to eat first? I bet it’s Poetry. We haven’t seen any other tieflings here, they’ve got to taste exotic.”

“Excuse me,” Poetry muttered. “I’m a person, not a wine.” Jarek rolled his eyes.

“I’m still not convinced he’s a vampire,” he said. “You’ve got a pretty good case, love, but he could still be a lich, or a revenant, or something else entirely.” Poetry muttered something about kobolds in a trench coat. Nyshka glared at them both.

“Excuse me,” she said. “He’s obviously a vampire. Volenta agrees with me, so it must be true.” I nodded, not terribly enthusiastically. The dream about teeth and blood flashed through my mind again. “I bet his lady’s a vampire too,” Nyshka added. She grinned at me. “But, she’s been biding her time, waiting for a sexy band of adventurers to come to her castle. The beautiful cleric purifies her undead heart with the love of Lady Fire-hair and she betrays her husband! The land is saved, the cleric and the beautiful vampire are married, and we all live happily ever after.”

I stuck out my tongue. It hadn’t seemed wise to wear our amulets here, even though nobody seemed to know our goddesses. Nyshka didn’t look even a little ashamed. Jarek shook his head. Poetry leaned against the carriage windows and announced that they thought they could see the castle. A few minutes later, the horses pulled us out onto a narrow stone bridge.

The lord of the castle wasn’t immediately waiting for us. That was probably a good sign. An immaculately dressed elf—his steward?—was waiting instead. Jarek and Nyshka led the way to introduce ourselves to him, but froze when they came within about ten feet of the man. They exchanged glances, stepped back, stepped forward again, and I saw Nyshka shudder and struggle to maintain her smile as she approached. The elf looked unconcerned. Actually, I’m not sure his expression changed at all. Was he actually alive, or was he one of the lord’s undead creatures as well? It seemed quite possible.

Then Poetry and I got closer and we heard the screaming too. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of agonized screams. There was pleading, begging, crying — all female. All in elvish. Some cried out to foreign deities for aid, I thought, although it was hard to tell among the cacophony. I felt the blood drain from my face. One look at Poetry confirmed that they heard the din as well. I reached for their hand and swallowed, hard, my throat dry.

I was going to have words with Vasili. He could have warned us.

The dubiously-alive elf led us into the depths of a once beautiful castle. It was still attractive enough, I supposed, as I studied the marble floors and sculptures in the entryway. It was mostly just kind of old and dirty. It looked like maybe the lord of the castle didn’t have many visitors. That was in line with what Vasili said. He made Strahd von Zarovich sound pretty gloomy and introverted. Of course, there was also the possibility that Strahd von Zarovich was a vampire, like Nyshka thought, and he just didn’t want to bother dusting for guests he was just going to eat…

“Thank you, Rahadin,” a woman said. “I will take them from here.” The elf said something, too quietly for even my ears to hear. Maybe Nyshka caught it. I’d have to ask. “We don’t want to keep milord waiting, do we?” The woman said, and the elf bowed. I pulled at Poetry’s arm, trying to see past Jarek. Really, did he have to wear his biggest, fluffiest cloak? It looked good, but made him take up even more space than usual!

Oh. Well. She wasn’t what I expected. I twisted to get a look at Nyshka’s face and couldn’t help but giggle. Jarek had competition for once! Poetry groaned softly. “We’re going to have to hope your sister doesn’t abandon us for Strahd’s lady,” they muttered to me. I nodded. The giggles threatened to turn into nervous laughter and I ducked back behind Jarek and his stupid fluffy cloak again. Maybe it was a good thing he was wearing it after all. It would put a damper on things if I managed to offend the maybe-vampire’s maybe-wife before we even made it to the table. Still assuming, of course, that Vasili was right and we weren’t about to be the main course.

The woman was tall, graceful, and incredibly beautiful. Her skin was darker than anyone I’d seen in Barovia, not drow-grey but a warm dark brown. Her many braids were beaded with gold. Her dress looked too light weight for the Barovian climate, but was made of fine, almost iridescent white fabric. I self consciously smoothed the sash I’d found to dress up my own attire. Mother would have done better on such short notice, but…I looked fine. Lady Gold Heart would forgive me if I looked more like an adventurer than like the equal of this lady. Probably. Hopefully. Gods, I hoped we weren’t about to gravely offend someone.

We were probably going to gravely offend someone.

I resolved to haunt Vasili if I died here. He would more than deserve it.

“Good evening,” the woman said to us. It sounded like she was smiling. “The table is set; milord awaits your presence. Come.” Nyshka curtsied and asked if we had the honor of meeting the lady of the house. The woman gave a low chuckle. “I am Ludmilla Vilisevic,” she said. “Some would call me a lady of Ravenloft. This way, please.”

She lead us towards the distant sounds of organ music. The tune wasn’t one I knew; hardly a surprise. The organ stood at the far end of an elaborate dining room. The table was set for six. A crystal chandelier flickered with candlelight. The musician turned and I frowned. I thought I recognized the profile, but couldn’t say from where. I didn’t know its owner, who could only be Lord Strahd. I would have remembered, and probably sketched, that face. He crossed to the woman and kissed her hand before bowing to us.

“Greetings at long last, my friends,” he said. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, which burned like the massive crackling fire. “Please, sit. Make yourselves comfortable. If anything is not to your satisfaction, do not hesitate to speak.” He gestured towards the place settings. Candelabras on the table burst into life. Nyshka hesitated, then moved to one side of the table with Jarek. Poetry and I took the other side.

My seat put me next to Strahd’s lady, Ludmilla. She nodded politely as she sat. Her eyes, I noticed, were red. Either I was incorrect in my assessment that she wasn’t at least partially drow, or she was less than alive. Would it be impolite to ask? It would definitely be impolite to ask. I decided that it would be better to assume that she could and probably would kill me if I annoyed her. I tried not to stare. Goddess willing, Poetry would think before they spoke. Fortunately, doors opened on one wall before they could jam their tail down their throat. Some kind of arcane servant things entered the room with food, which they placed in front of us. It smelled better than anything I'd tasted since entering this cursed place, but I wasn't sure I was going to be able to eat anything past my nerves.

"Look at me, Volenta," Ludmilla said. Her voice was low, for my ears only. "I won't hurt you. Not unless you ask me.” It was probably also best not to ask how she knew my name. I swallowed hard and met her eyes. She smiled a little. Her lips would have been the envy of the high priestess back home. "Enjoy yourself," she said, gently. "You have his hospitality tonight." I returned her smile. I could trust her. Ludmilla was safe. Nyshka raised an eyebrow at me from across the table, and I shrugged a little helplessly. We were probably doomed, but at least the food smelled good. "May I?" she asked, holding a hand out towards my hair. I smoothed it self consciously, and her smile widened. She pulled off my head band and I felt magic flick at my hair until not a strand lay out of place. She replaced the headband and nodded in some satisfaction. “Perfect,” she said. She handed me my spoon and gestured towards the bowl of soup the invisible servant placed in front of me.

“Or maybe we have to hope you don’t abandon us…” Poetry said. They seemed to be trying not to laugh. I blushed and tried not to notice Ludmilla or her husband watching me eat. I failed, of course. The lord and lady of Ravenloft are impossible to ignore. Lord Strahd whispered something that made Ludmilla laugh. Jarek frowned. “Would your lordship care to share the joke with us?” he said. Nyshka winced a little at his tone, but Lord Strahd only smiled. “I was merely commenting to my lady that it has been some time since any of Miss Volenta’s sort have graced our castle,” he replied. “Had we known such beauty graced the valley, I would have invited you to join us far sooner.” The ruby brooch he wore matched his eyes perfectly. They were precisely the same shade as Ludmilla’s. He scared me still, a little. Nyshka tried to laugh at the comments, to lighten the mood. “Well, our father was a cleric of Lady Fire-hair,” she said. “Barovia doesn’t seem to have any churches of Sune, but we can still represent our goddess.” Lord Strahd raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps not churches, but… I think I have been looking for servants of your goddess for some time.” He smiled, which did not comfort me at all. It didn’t reach his eyes. He looked at Nyshka much more thoughtfully. What would he do to her? “He jests,” Ludmilla whispered to me. “I will tell you the tale after dinner.” Her smile was genuine. I tried to return it and she nodded again.

“Was that what you wanted from us, milord?” Nyshka asked. “Although now seems hardly the time to discuss business, your invitation was rather vague. Do you often invite adventurers to dinner?”

“When the adventurers interest me, yes,” Lord Strahd replied. “You and yours interest me greatly. I am always interested in gifted individuals.” Something about his tone put me in mind of the dreams. It wasn’t the same voice, but some of the same dark magic seemed to color it. I tilted my head slightly to Ludmilla. “Does your husband bite?” I asked softly. She stifled a laugh. “You could say that,” she said, tilting her head. I noticed two small scars on her throat, just above the artery. “Don’t let it worry you.”

The meal smelled divine, but I could hardly taste it. The lord had clearly gone to some effort to import the finest foods, probably with the help of the Vistani, but neither he nor his lady seemed to partake of it. They both clearly enjoyed their…I was now increasingly sure it wasn’t wine. I thought about asking Ludmilla outright, but why bother? She and her husband were clearly vampires. I wouldn’t learn anything new by asking. She probably wouldn’t eat us, maybe, if we were lucky, but Strahd and Nyshka spent most of the meal trading banter. I thought Nyshka might actually be enjoying it, even if Jarek started looking kind of anxious partway through the main course. I really hoped that Nyshka wouldn’t manage to goad Lord Strahd into breaking hospitality and attacking.

After dinner, the horrible elf reappeared to usher us up the stairs to a room grand enough for dancing. Strahd somehow managed to beat us there, but his lady took my arm with a smile. Candlelight flickered off the wall as the lord sat back on an ornate throne. He gestured towards a corner, and a selection of instruments began to play themselves. “We may as well turn this into a proper party,” Strahd said with a smile. He stood and, with a bow, asked my sister for a dance. Jarek looked ready to slap him, but Nyshka agreed. I was pretty sure she was going to step on his toes, a lot. Nyshka was a fabulous dancer, which I’m pretty sure was a requirement back home for followers of our goddesses, but she was definitely in a mood to be spiteful. I was distracted enough by the sight that I almost missed Milla asking me for a dance as well. She lead, and it kind of worked. I was about a foot shorter than her, but that wasn’t anything new. I was shorter than most people. After the first dance, Strahd turned his attentions to Jarek. Ludmilla pulled me back towards the stairs as Nyshka egged her husband on. “He won’t miss us,” she assured me. “He’ll send Rahadin to find us if he does. I wanted to show you something.”

Under normal circumstances, following somebody who was definitely a vampire and therefore definitely capable of eating me would have been a terrible idea. But, if I went with her, at least I was only in a room with one vampire capable of eating me. I wasn’t sure that was much of an improvement, but she seemed a lot less terrifying than her husband. Milla led me up a spiral staircase into a small library, or maybe a study. She waved towards the empty hearth and flames burst into life. I cast a light spell on the candelabras and gasped as it became bright enough to make out the beautiful painting hanging over the mantlepiece. It depicted a red-haired woman, not that different from the paintings that hung over father’s altar back home. His paintings were all fanciful, idealized things, though, showing a goddess who rarely blessed her followers with her presence. This was realistic enough that it had to show a real woman, perhaps my age, in an elegant dress.

“Who is this?” I asked. Ludmilla stepped forward and smiled, a little sadly. “Strahd’s first love,” she said. “You’ll appreciate the story. Back before Barovia was…as you see it now, Strahd fell in love with this woman, Tatyana.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, she died at a very young age. Her body was never found, and the mists rose around the valley soon afterwards. Ever since, things have been very…strange. Sometimes, a woman is born who looks more than a little like Tatyana. Truly, more than a little; as far as Strahd can tell, these women bear her soul. He has loved them all, but they have never lived long enough to marry.” I frowned.

“Isn’t he your husband?”

She laughed. “Yes. Surely you of all people understand that a person need not limit themselves to loving only one other soul.” Her eyes sparkled like gems in the light of the fire and my spell. “You’re sweet. A heart can love so many when it isn’t burdened by the need to beat.” She seemed amused by my expression. “Yes. You know what we are.”

“Are you going to bite me?” I asked. Hopefully she hadn’t brought me here to kill me. Ludmilla tilted her head curiously.

“Do you want me to?” she asked. “I don’t have to. But, if you’re asking…” She shrugged. “I could be convinced.” I frowned. No, I didn’t want to be bitten by a vampire. At the same time, if it was Ludmilla, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She brought me here to tell me about Tatyana, because of course someone like me would be interested in a tragic love story. She hadn’t brought me here to kill me.

“Maybe?” I asked. I looked around and saw two comfortable looking chairs facing the hearth. I claimed one of them and sat down. “I, um…” She knelt beside the chair and took my chin, tilting my head to look me in the eyes again.

“Sweetness,” she said. “I won’t kill you. I know what I’m doing. I wouldn’t kill anyone in Barovia unless I needed to. I don’t see any reason why I need to kill you.” Her touch was cold, but not unpleasantly so. I smiled. She did seem to be telling me the truth. I took a deep breath and leaned a little closer to her.

“I trust you,” I said. She pulled me into her lap and, before I could think, there was a spike of pain. Her fangs pierced my throat. It wasn’t unbearable, but it was startling. Her lips were cool, and of course, I couldn’t feel her breath on my skin. I would have, if she’d been breathing. I felt electrified, like every nerve in my body was on the very highest of alerts. At the same time, I was frozen, immobile, helpless.

It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. Almost too soon, it was also over.

She pulled her head away, but still cradled me in her arms. Her chest was still. The only heartbeat I heard was my own. “There,” she whispered. “That wasn’t so bad. Thank you, sweetness.” I turned a little as I felt control over my limbs return. She smiled at me, stroked the tender, slightly painful wound she left behind. It almost, but didn’t quite, match the one she bore.

“Will I turn into a vampire now?” I asked. I sounded a little rough. I wondered if I was crying. She shook her head, red eyes warm. “No, sweetness,” she said. “I’d need to drain much more than a taste from you for that. You would need my blood as well. Assuming, of course, that I can turn anyone at all. I’ve never tried.”

The prickling pain brought to mind the dreams again. “Did Strahd make you into a vampire?” I asked. She nodded. “He did. I’ll spare you the details. I don’t know who made him, if anyone.” She didn’t seem to hear it, but I thought I heard the laughter from the dream echo through the room. I didn’t recognize the sound as something that belonged to any person I knew. I imagined that I felt the sting of teeth again, not just her fangs but dozens, hundreds, of needle-sharp teeth.

“Come to me,” a voice whispered. “Fly to me, little bird, and learn what you can become…”

I was cold, so cold. Snow whipped around me, driven by a biting wind. The howling sound echoed on the gold-veined marble floors of this place of nightmares, this profane temple to dark gods I did not love. The laughter came from deep within the bowels of this place, drawing me forward, tempting me to risk everything, to give anything, to live and love forever…

“Volenta? Sweetness?” Ludmilla’s voice. She shook me, jarring me out of the vision. “Volenta? Please, heal yourself. You can do that, can’t you? Or — your sister? Should I get her?”

The fire crackled a mere two feet away. This study was warm, safe. Ludmilla looked genuinely frightened. “Are you alright?” she asked. “I — I did not intend to drink so much.” I felt her hand behind my head. I blinked, clearing away the last of the dream.

“I’m fine,” I said. “That…that wasn’t you. I’ve, I’m…” I tried to think how to reassure a vampire that I wasn’t dying of blood loss, that I was hallucinating nightmare gods. Is it even possible to say something like that? Probably not if you wanted to sound sane afterwards. I was pretty sure I wasn’t sane anymore. I had just let the vampire I was trying to reassure bite me, apparently enough that she was worried I was going to die on her.

“Are you sure?” She still sounded worried. “Please heal yourself. Just…just in case. I don’t know what would happen if I managed to kill you like that.” It seemed a strange thing to say, I would be dead, obviously, but I was not in the best place to argue. My fingers felt clumsy as I felt for the bite mark and spoke the healing command. She hissed a little and looked away, but the wound had closed. There was a little blood on my fingers. I stuck them in my mouth to clean them off. The iron tang was unpleasant but grounding. The last of the waking dream faded away. Ludmilla brushed a thumb over the scab and I could see some of the tension drain out of her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have been more careful.” I shook my head. I felt a little dizzy, but as long as I didn’t need to do anything too acrobatic I wasn’t going to worry about it.

“That wasn’t you,” I repeated. I twisted, reached back for the armchair, hoisted myself back into it. “I don’t know what that was. Barovia isn’t a good place for a cleric, I guess.” Ludmilla smiled a little and shook her head. “No,” she said. “It isn’t.” I looked around at the rest of the room, careful not to turn my head too quickly, as she stood up. A book on one of the shelves caught my eye. Most of the books had embossed titles, or were obviously part of sets. This one was pure black. I opened my mouth to ask about it, but Ludmilla held out a hand to help me to my feet. “We should go back,” she said. “If you’re already struggling with Barovia, I’m not going to wait for Strahd to send Rahadin to find us. That won’t help anything.” I took her hand, and she lead me back down the stairs to where we could still hear the music and the sound of my sister’s laughter.

#curse of strahd #dungeons and dragons #dungeons and/or dragons #strahd von zarovich #ludmilla vilisevic #volenta popofsky

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sketchyelvenasss · 1 year ago

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7, 15, 18, and 21 for Aerika or 2, 5, and 10 for Rexander for the Tav ask game please!!

Thank you for the ask ❤️! I don’t get very many so I’ll just do both. Also I read “or” as “and” first time round anyways lol (Rexander’s answers have near endgame Durge spoilers)

Aerika

7. Did your Tav travel a lot pre-tadpole?

He did! Specifically to the Underdark in search of magic items that were either lost in the dark or in the hands of those that meant to harm others with them. If he can he brings them back to the monastery where he became a cleric on the surface. Thanks to him they have a collection and have opened a museum of sorts to the public.

After the events of bg3 he will eventually return to his expeditions, despite some protesting from Gale. Even though his view of Mystra had been somewhat tarnished he still felt the passion to find, protect, and preserve magic.

15. Do they have any sentimental items?

-Aerika has a few. The first are his parents’ wedding rings. When he was still under a century old— he’s mid 200s now for reference—they were murdered by lolth-sworn raiders, he was captured and probably fated to become a slave when a cleric saved him by killing his captors. Before retreating to the surface with her they buried his parents and he took their rings as momentos.

-His wedding/ engagement band from Gale. They get engaged sometime before the reunion party bc they both knew they’d eventually be married. But Gale really wanted to take the time to do the proper things now that it was far less likely that either of them would die anytime soon.

-When Aerika starts adventuring again Gale gifts him with a smooth and polished amethyst sending stone so they could still communicate.

18. What did they want to be when they were younger? 21. What kind of education did your Tav have?

I’m gonna put these two together bc they work together.

Aerika wanted to be a wizard! But his parents were farmers with little disposable income. Still they loved him and did their best to nurture his passion with books. He didn’t receive any formal training or study until he decided to become a cleric of Mystra.

He believes it was fate to be saved by one of her clerics, and felt it would honor her and still allow him to channel the weave albeit in a different way than he originally thought he would.

The story below kinda covers these with how Aerika feels about them + Galemance fluff

Rexander

2. Does your Tav have any siblings? Are they close?

That is one of the things he still can’t remember. He can’t even remember who his mother was or if he even had one.

The closest you could call family for him were Sarevok and Orin and they are both dead by his hand so…

Rexander is a little grateful that Orin usurped him because he appreciates who he has become since escaping the nautaloid. His brain may be in shambles but at least it is all his own now.

5. Is your Tav religious? Were they raised that way?

Not anymore! As time went on after the tadpole died his memories began to steadily return. And he hates them, hates who he was. Rex, King of Murder was a devout follower of Bhaal leading the cult by example of heinous blood soaked murder—striving to be his father’s chosen and deliver Faerun to him in offering.

Now he doesn’t care who someone lights a candle for unless they come after him or his loved ones.

10. Was your Tav in a relationship? How did it end?

Pre-tadpole he did have a relationship with Gortash, but to him it wasn’t as important as his devotion to Bhaal and Rex had plans to murder him after they had conquered the world together— a revelation that comes to Rexander only as he’s standing over his corpse, but with the intent to save faerun.

I totally think it was a bit awkward to slowly remember their past relationship with Astarion standing right next to him. Although the elf means so much more to him than Gortash ever did. Astarion definitely says something to the effect of “glad to see you’ve upped your standards.”

#bg3 #Aerika Dyrr #Rexander #tav asks #durge spoilers #bg3 durge #thank you so much #oc asks #sorry it’s long

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kathyprior4200 · 1 year ago

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Heavenly Boss S1 E3: Autumn Intact

Part One: Kiva

A silver-colored van was held aloft by a pair of large white feathery wings attached to the sides. The surface was in pristine condition, shining in the sunlight. The license plates on the front and back read “E.L.F. – 777.” In the driver’s seat sat a thoughtful Docile, leader of E.L.F. The elf angel wore his usual work outfit: a long white coat with round teal buttons down the front and a pin attached to his undershirt. He had white pants and boots with blue trim around the ends. One part of his face was black, the other was mostly a dark teal green. He had a white birthmark on his forehead and pointed teal green ears extending out on either side of his bald head. His pupils were white with teal irises and dark blue sclera. His wings were folded behind him, and a white spiked halo hovered above his head. On the radio, a calming country song about God played as the elf hummed along.

“I love this song!” he said.

Sitting next to him in shotgun was the ever-smiling Sunna, the brown Heaven-cat. She had pointed ears and long hipster-style brown hair that framed her furry brown face. She wore her usual white sundress with a golden sun symbol on it. Decorating her brown furry body were several black stripes. Her sky-blue eyes shined as she peered out at the passing clouds around her. The windows were down to let in the clean, crisp air.

In the backseats wearing seatbelts were their two elf colleagues, Tirred and Timmid. Tirred, grumpy as ever, covered his ears and grimaced in disgust at the music. He had black hair that stuck out slightly on either side of his teal green face. His young white-haired girlfriend Timmid was curled into a ball, fearful of heights and almost everything else. Ironically, she was an angel with white wings and a halo like her colleagues. Both elves wore their white and teal work outfits.

Sunna waved out the window as they flew by a family of bi-pedal humanoid swans who played harps on a cloud. Even the three kids were playing miniature lyres and flapping their wings in excitement. Holy City was bustling with music, cars, and people with animal-like traits. Several signs read, “Saintz,” “Cloud Nine,” “Paradise,” “7th Heaven” and “Elysium Gymnasium!” Doves, swans, and sheep danced together on a hovering golden platform while small curly-haired cupids played instruments in the clouds. Several angels took pictures and selfies with their cell phones. A large group of children chased each other in the air while they played the popular “Gabriel’s Truth-Telling Trumpet Toys ™. Now only seven spirits.”

“Those things don’t even work,” Tirred mentioned as Sunna played Docile’s trumpet he had gotten at Woo-Hoo Land.

“Probably not,” she said, looking back behind her at him. “But I heard that people are still more likely to tell the truth, even if it’s unintentional.”

“Herd mentality,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “People will believe anything, the mindless sheep they are.”

A group of flying sheep angels “baa-ed” and gave him angry glares as E.L.F. drove by at a leisurely pace.

“What?” he spat at them. “I’m just being honest!”

“Told ya,” Sunna grinned, blowing the trumpet closer to his face. Tirred pushed the trumpet away as Sunna giggled.

A nearby marching band of uniformed bi-pedal lions and eagles played trumpets on a path as they strolled around a golden Greek temple. Inside the temple, Metatron was busy organizing records at a fancy desk in a closed off portion of the vast room. A few Seraphim with six fiery red wings circled a golden empty throne inside, chanting “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God almighty! The whole Earth is full of His glory!” Their chants were amplified to the outside world via magic megaphones.

“I always hated those annoying fiery things,” Tirred remarked with a roll of his eyes. “They never stop!”

Timmid glanced over at a group of council members surrounding a magic hovering sphere that showed the various things happening in Hazbin Heaven. On the outskirts of Hazbin Heaven through the sphere, a few dark Exorcists were flying and sparing with angelic spears as part of their training. They had long black feathery necks, talon hands and feet, plus curved horns with small lines along them. They also had white and black spiked halos of their own above their heads, with a small crystal in the center surrounded by a cross. Timmid shivered as she spotted the Xs over their right eyes and their LED grins. The vulture-like demon exterminators had a smaller base and not as many numbers as the first Heaven next door, but that did not make them any less skilled or threatening.

“Those things give me the creeps,” Timmid whimpered. “I don’t understand why the Exorcists have to exist.”

“Well, they do live on the outskirts for a reason,” Tirred explained. “They have their own military society and even families there. Children are trained from birth to cleanse demons and protect Heaven. The more elite fighters guard the Empyrean, God’s abode. Some angels can become Exorcists but only after many tests and trials.”

“Thou shall not kill,” Timmid recited, forgetting her fear. “Thou shall love thy neighbor and not covert his goods. Why is it then, that Exorcists, mortals, and demons to the extreme extent…aren’t seen as our neighbors?”

There was a silence, save for the country music.

“Did you even listen to your lectures in school?” Tirred asked. “Demons are destined to suffer and be separated from their purified family members. Without the Archangels, Overlords, Saints and royalty, Heaven and Hell societies would crumble. Whether we like it or not, we all have our roles to play.”

“Sure, like you play your role so perfectly at E.L.F.” Sunna added to Tirred in sarcasm. She mimicked Tirred in a low voice: “‘I shall use my healing powers to discipline you mortals!’ ‘Kill all demons and imperfections!’ ‘I’m so tired, I hate this place. No one else but me deserves to fu…’”

“Do you guys mind?!” Docile glared back at them. “I’m trying to listen here.”

“Look out!” cried Timmid as a shocked Docile narrowly missed a white Pegasus flying to the side of the van. Docile swerved around it, and rapidly spun the wheel, dodging other flying vehicles. They dove under a large white flying truck that read “Fizzipop’s Soda,” on the sides in bold pink letters. The sky highway was flanked by streetlamps on clouds, the poles made of gold. As they plummeted down, Tirred put his hand on Timmid’s shoulder, trying to comfort her. She looked at him, taking deep breaths and forcing a small smile. The van narrowly dodged a flying horse’s hooves in the air.

“Horses,” Docile snorted in disgust.

Docile maneuvered the van over toward E.L.F. headquarters. It was a large white pristine office building in Elf City, decorated with large golden wings jutting off to the sides. The double doors were decorated with harps. A nearby sign read “Welcome to Elf City, established 1981: Second Sphere.”

“Whoa!” Docile called, lowering the van, and pressing onto the brakes. The van landed and skidded to a stop on the street.

“Holy spit!” Docile cried as they stilled.

The parking spot usually reserved for E.L.F. in front of the building had been taken by a large chariot.

But it was no ordinary chariot…it was a breathtaking vehicle of energy and moving symbols. The wheels were golden and glowing, with small eyes along the rims. Spheres of light seemed to glow between the spokes. A griffin with shimmering tan fur stood at the head of the chariot, squawking from his eagle head, and resting from its flight. A small white sheep with wings served as the driver.

Four women got out, two on each side of the golden chariot. One had the head of a lioness and was dressed in red. The second wore white and had the head of a white bull. The third wore a purple robe and had the head of an eagle. The last woman wore green and had silky blonde hair and a white face with red blushes on it. All four women had silk scarves with peacock eyes draped over their shoulders. The license plate below read “SERVE-4-LIFE.”

“Oh, you serve for life, do ya?” Docile asked in curiosity. He stepped out of the van. “Why don’t you do me a huge favor and let me have my parking spot back!”

Docile was silenced when another figure stepped out of the chariot. The four women made way for the last female.

“Is that…Beatrice?” Sunna asked, referring to the poet Dante’s lover and symbol of his ascension to Heaven and God.

But it wasn’t her. Instead, the woman who got out looked like a regular angel. She wore a black and white dress and white high heels. Her hair was long and pinkish blonde, her face white with blushes. She wore a pair of blue heart-shaped sunglasses.

“Holy Heavens! Kiva?!” Docile gasped.

“Docile,” she greeted, stretching her pink-white feathery wings. She had pronounced an extra “e” in his name, much to his annoyance.

Kiva Perdera was a famous popstar in Heaven. Her love songs could make mortals and angels alike swoon with feelings of universal love.

“I should’ve known you’d be here,” he said. “Who wouldn’t be able to sense your divine presence in both paradises?”

There was a mix of admiration and resentment in his tone.

“And how have you been, Docile?” She flipped her hair back. “Still stuck in choir practice and performances trying to make a living?” She sipped Jeshua-Juice from a vial.

“Only on occasion.” He smoothed his shirt and coat with pride. “I’ve moved on to form my own blessing company, E.L.F. Which reminds me…please clear off from my spot.”

Kiva grinned, her sharp white teeth matching her pale face. “This spot has my name on it, now,” she said, pointing to “Kiva” in blue paint on the ground. The blue “E.L.F.” was crossed out. “I’m doing some judging and assistant work for one of the more infinitely successful companies in Heaven…”

“No way,” Sunna breathed from inside the van.

“…I’ve come from the other Heaven to visit, and they invited me to perform some duties for a week for autumn break.”

“A week?!” Docile asked in shock. “You’re here for a week?”

“Yes indeed.” She removed her sunglasses, revealing green irises, white pupils, and dark blue sclera eyes.

“What’s the matter, Docile?” she mocked. “Are you sacred that I’m gonna judge you again after what happened all those years ago?”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “My former part-time job was decent enough. Bio Rizz had better jokes and songs…and I was fine with leaving the choir. My sister understood my new passion for saving lives.”

Kiva smirked and leaned slightly toward him. “Saving lives? How about reaping them?” She then spoke in a low angelic voice as eyes appeared on her wings. “Or your failure to properly do so?”

Docile’s eyes went wide, his body went stiff. One eye twitched. A surge of memories flashed through his mind.

0 0 0

“Docile,” scolded his elf father Jeshua Cantus. “Are you forsaking your Biblical studies for your trivial theater thoughts again?”

“Dad,” said Docile, holding up a flyer for a show at Woo-Hoo Land. “I’ve been wanting to star in my show for years. I could act and play music, too.”

“If you had more talent, then yes. But you know that our status doesn’t allow us to pursue whatever we want.”

“But it’s Heaven!”

“Heaven with rules just like Earth and Hell,” he continued. “Your destiny is to serve God and this realm…put your personal interests aside for the greater good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. After all, that imp Blitzo’s father wanted him to give up his musical theater dreams in order for him and his sister to survive and kill other demons. Of course, I don’t want such a fate for you.”

Docile stared in curiosity. “How did you…”

“How do I know all that? Heaven has spies who risk their lives to ensure that we can keep a better eye on demons and their lives.”

“If that imp wants to pursue musical theater and circus performances, then I don’t see anything wrong with that. That means I can do it, too!” said Docile.

“It’s not a real career,” said his father. “You and your sister need to make some decent money and do real work for the community. Serving the higher ups is what imps, hellhounds, elves, heavenhounds, and heavencats have done for centuries.”

“You mean I can’t pursue my own hobbies on the side when I want to? That doesn’t make sense!” The young Docile had angry tears in his eyes.

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” his father said.

Over time, Docile went to school and took class after class. He became proficient in choir and sang in several performances. But singing the same hymns every time soon got boring. Cleaning palaces, constructing stained glass windows, assisting divine doctors… He went through one menial job after another. He couldn’t even use magic and work with the guardian angels. The saints and higher angels got to do whatever they wanted and there he was, stuck with mundane tasks. Even the lower-class cherubs often bossed the elves around.

“Goblin dork,” mocked a small flying brown deer wearing a business dress.

“Which of the Seven Halos are you from?” asked a bee cherub.

“The first Halo of Humility,” Docile replied. “Where Holy City is.”

“Wrong! You’re from Halo Zero, where the losers are!”

The cherubs laughed and flew off toward their cloudy town, leaving a sad Docile behind.

Several of the stained-glass windows depicted seven Archangels. The joyful Jophiel, Archangel of Beauty, had beautiful long red hair and wore a rainbow colored dress. She was surrounded by yellow flowers in the background. The lovely but stern Camael, Archangel of Love, stood wearing white and held a red rose against a pink background of hearts. The mighty Michael, Archangel of Strength, stood out as a muscular blonde man holding a flaming sword and wearing gauntlets. His background was blue. Then there was the Archangel of Healing, Raphael, who wore a green robe and held a rod and herbs in his hands. His skin was brown and his hair was long and dark. The background was forest green. Uriel, the Archangel of Wisdom stood elegantly against a flaming red background, wearing white. There was Gabriel the Archangel Messenger, with his wings spread out and standing serene against white clouds. Finally, there was Zadkiel, the Archangel of Mercy, who stood against a purple background.

After a while, Docile’s father suggested…or rather forcefully encouraged…that he try an alternative career. “You don’t want to be defenseless if you encounter an Anti-Exorcist, do you?” he asked. Docile gulped.

One December 31st, a being with white bat wings, horns and a bare chest flew up to a dog angel. The being held a book about demons in its clawed hands and the dog listened in a trance. A glowing black pitchfork struck the dog angel, and he cried out. At once, he plummeted out of the air, his wings burning off as he fell to Hell. His horrified family sobbed nearby.

The young Docile gulped as he walked toward a dark stone building that read “Cleanser Fort 33 – Realm 2P.”

By a stroke of luck, Docile was able to get in. He studied and trained day and night. There was Kiva, judging his every move. She wrote on a clipboard and stared with scrutinizing eyes as Docile practiced his flying. He grew used to using harpoon spears, holy daggers, swords, and shields. Docile felt every bit like an Exorcist, despite the different title of Cleanser.

“Cleanse as many human sinners as you can,” Kiva instructed, “and stay away from the hell-born demons unless you need to kill in self-defense.”

“The population of both Hells are overpopulated,” she said. “Thus reducing their numbers annually is crucial. Only in this case, you’ll also help them reach Purgatory with me.” She gave Docile a white feathery Cleanser suit and mask, enchanted to fit his form.

“Exorcist suits were invented to help us blend into the population…and also to inspire fear in demons. The Sinners will hopefully be able to see you to be their savior. Do not talk to anyone. Do not enter into any buildings in Hell…or else you’ll be cornered. Stay with at least two other Cleansers on missions at all times…for Heaven’s sake, Docile, never drop your holy weapons!”

“Sorry! I’ll get it,” he called, flying down to retrieve his spear. The older warriors shook their heads.

“And most of all…” said Kiva, “Show no mercy to any demon…no matter how innocent they may look.”

On Dec 31st, Docile and the Cleansers flew through a portal into 2P Hell. Docile did his job well, slaying demons with his harpoon with no mercy. He glided over the black grassy ground, the sky sanguine. His heart ached every time he dealt a blow to the Sinners, but he told himself it was for the greater good. There was no blood, but the screams and fading away of the Sinners was still unnerving.

Docile looked around and saw a horde of demons angry that their slaves had been taken. He promptly flew away.

Just then, he spotted a furry animal on a sidewalk. Tossing aside his weapon, he picked up the creature and carried it to safety. The animal was a fluffy white furred cat with a scrunched up brownish face like a cross between a Persian and a Siamese cat. He stared at Docile with light blue eyes.

Docile’s eyes shined as he removed his mask. “Aww, how cute! What’s your name?”

“I’m Nugget,” said the cat in a shaky child-like voice. “I fell from Earth, and I got lost here in Hell.”

Docile gasped. “It’s okay. I’ll take you back to Heaven.”

“Do you think you could help me find my family, first?”

“Of course.”

“I think they went this way.”

Nugget led him to an abandoned movie theater that read “Zoophobia: The Lost Characters” at the top. On a nearby wall, a deer head hung over a plaque that read “Hell Here” in bold letters.

Docile went inside as Nugget posed in front of him. “Here they are!”

A black cat, Pixel arrived with a whitish mouth. Then a thinner tan cat with triangular ears stood close by: Muppet.

The three cats cuddled and purred against Docile as he pet them. Docile closed his eyes in bliss before feeling a sharp bite on his shoulder. Then another one on his chest.

“Hey, what’s going…”

He opened his eyes and gasped out loud. The three furry faces now had red glowing eyes and large smiles of bloody sharp teeth. They had increased in size as well. The cat demons meowed gleefully as they tore at his clothing, wings, and skin with their sharp claws. He struggled against them, but they held him down.

“We’re having angel soul tonight, gang!” Nugget cackled.

Through his darkened haze, Docile could hear laughing, then hisses and yells. He heard the cats fleeing and felt himself being carried by someone with strong arms. By the time he woke up, he was in a military hospital in Heaven, staring at Kiva’s stern face.

He smiled lovingly at her. “Kiva, you saved my life! How can I repay you?”

“Getting distracted and fooled by other demons,” she tutted. “Putting other warriors’ lives at risk. Almost bringing a demon into Heaven. Here,” she said, handing him a pink slip. “You’re fired!”

Three high ranking cherub angels hovered in front of Docile as he walked in shame along the street. “We can help you, little guy,” the leader said in a kind voice. They emerged from the light. Docile’s eyes went wide. It was the angelic versions of Nugget, Pixel and Muppet.

Nugget held out a generous paw. “Can you tell us your name?”

Docile took one look at their familiar feline faces and screamed as he scurried away.

The cats looked at each other in confusion.

Docile heard the taunts and jeers of other angels around him. “Does anyone love you, Docile?”

“No!”

Docile was back in the present, shaken. His crew looked at him in concern as Kiva awaited his response.

He stuttered at Kiva. “Yeah well…uh I may have failed, but…at least I’m actually doing something with my life instead of singing love songs all the time!”

“You’re jealous because I’m still famous,” she said, moving her slender fingers through her tresses of hair. “I’ve heard your company is struggling to make ends meet. The chain company I work for now…It’ll likely outshine yours in a few months.”

“I don’t think so,” he argued, getting into her face. “As long as my employees and I are together, we’ll keep doing our job!” He stood; arms folded.

Timmid had never seen the normally calm and carefree Docile so agitated. Even Sunna had a worried look on her face.

“Now move your chariot or I’m gonna…”

A low hissing sound made him freeze. Towering above him was a giant white bi-pedal cat wearing a dark white suit. The cat’s left eye had a scar over it and was milky white. One of his ears was torn.

“You’ll what?” he asked, his eyes blue, his sharp teeth visible.

“I’ll…uh…” Docile stuttered. “I’ll call GOP.”

Kiva, Docile and the large cat burst into laughter.

“Anyway,” said Kiva. “Meet my new bodyguard, Portal. Unlike you, he actually does his job well.”

Portal and Kiva led the way as the four robed women followed. The chariot locked itself and was surrounded by a barrier of white flames.

“God bless and God speed, elf man,” she called.

Docile stomped his foot. “That holier than thou, pompous little bit…”

“You know Kiva Perdera?!” Sunna asked as she stepped out of the van.

“Huh? Oh yeah, she was my supervisor and…former crush.”

“Was that before or after your training?” Timmid asked, poking her head through an open window.

“You were a former Exorcist?!” Tirred asked in envy and disbelief.

“A former Cleanser,” Timmid corrected.

“Close enough. Both slay demons, don’t they?”

“Okay, why are you all acting like that’s such a shock?” Docile asked in annoyance.

“It’s Kiva Perdera?” Sunna replied. “An experienced traveler celebrity…with you?”

“She must be sick in the head,” Tirred added. “Perhaps trying to show mercy to the little ones in her spare time.”

Docile narrowed his eyes. “You guys are making this into a way bigger deal than it needs to be,” Docile said. “I don’t spy into your personal lives.”

The three overlapped, “You do that all the time, sir!”

“Drop it, guys,” Docile demanded. “Timmid, find a new parking spot for the van.”

“I’m scared to drive,” she said in hesitation.

“Then lift up the van and fly it! Sunna, Tirred, come with me.”

0 0 0

Sunna led the way as the three E.L.F. members stepped out of an elevator. The walls were white and free of cracks. The brown cat was unusually nervous and she started licking her furry arm repeatedly.

“Oh, my fur’s not clean enough,” she muttered between licks.

“Oh you look perfect Sunny,” said Docile.

Sunna kept licking her fur until she bumped into a strong arm. She looked up, stunned. Portal was standing tall and proud…and he gazed down at her.

“Say something, Sunny,” Docile whispered in encouragement. But all that came out from Sunna was a high combination of a meow and a squeak: “meoweek!” Her face blushed.

Docile walked up and cleared his throat. “Hello, sir. Where’s your employer?”

“She’s in her office,” he said. “There wasn’t room on the second floor, so they made room here on this one.” He mentioned to a pair of double doors right across from the E.L.F. office. The room was converted into an organized recording studio with microphones, headsets, switches, and of course, a thick Bible on a center table. Painted on the door windows was a large orange “K” and a large orange “P” that stood for Kiva Perdera (and Kathy Prior). The room number above read “42”.

“Oh, come on!” Docile cried.

“Sorry, man,” Portal said as he walked away. Docile muttered some fancy angelic words under his breath…his tone sounded high and echo-like, similar in structure to the lower sounding demonic language.

“Are you casting a spell?” Tirred asked.

“No, I’m cursing,” Docile said.

“Sir,” added Tirred. “Maybe I should head on in and give her and her gang a piece of mind. I like “pop genre” music better than country, but nothing’s better than the dark subtle portions of rock or metal or even ambient. Her status to me is…”

“Tirred, shush it,” Docile said, tuning him out.

“All righty then,” Tirred said, heading for the door.

Portal then moved in front of the door.

“Hey, I was going in there,” Tirred mentioned, holding up a finger.

“Office is closed,” he said in a gruff voice. Docile and Tirred looked at each other. Portal sighed. “What did you expect? You think I was gonna let you imps…erm, elves waltz on in, allow those angels to mess with you and have one of you make a stupid bet with them? I don’t think so.”

“Wow, he really does do his job well,” Sunna breathed.

Docile was about to say something else, but Portal waved a large paw dismissively. “Scram.”

Docile gave one last glare and opened the door to the E.L.F. office. Timmid ran down the hall to catch up with them. “I’m here!” she called. She glanced at the poker-faced Portal and smiled nervously, holding up her hands. “Nice kitty,” she said as she followed Docile and the others into the room.

The four of them crashed onto a nearby couch, with an old-fashioned brown TV in front of them. Docile held his head in his hands. “I can’t believe this. Kiva and her cherubs could shut down our company if she found a reason to. We don’t even know what company she works for.”

“What are we gonna do?” Sunna asked. “We can’t just sit here.”

“Which is exactly what we’re doing,” Docile said. “Unless you all have any better ideas?”

The others were silent.

“Can we watch Spirit?” Sunna asked. “Or Cats the musical?”

“That Spirit movie was boring,” Docile complained. “And that iced coffee my older colleague gave me this morning…unsatisfying. You know I always like my coffee hot.”

Sunna picked up a TV remote. “Let’s see what’s on. Maybe it’ll cheer us up.”

Sunna pressed a button and a series of commercials flashed onto the screen. One commercial stood out from the others. It featured three singing angelic cherubs from the parallel canon Heaven. The three of them posed in the clouds by a rising sun. The sky had white clouds below, making way for more orange clouds and rays of sunlight. In the center of the screen stood a bluish crystalline structure that looked like a rising sun. The structure had fifteen-pointed triangle spokes on the top, each increasing in size toward the center.

The leader cherub was a winged boy with a white halo, a white face, short orange hair in a bob at the top and large silvery eyes. He wore a pair of orange overalls, a yellow undershirt, and small white boots. He was flanked by two flying smiling sheep on either side of him. The sheep to his left had a dark face, bushy eyebrows, light eyes, and thick curly white woolly hair on his head. He wore a white bow tie, a teal shirt, and blueish overalls with four buttons on it. He also had white wings, cloven hooves, and a white halo. Finally, the sheep to the right was a female, with a light-yellow face and pink irises. Her hair was woolly and yellow, her eyes had thick eyelashes. She wore a matching yellow dress with a red bow with ribbons on it near her neck. The bottom trim of her dress was also red in a flowery shape. Her hooves and legs were light yellow as were her wings. Her white halo hovered above her head. The sheep used a Bible to travel to Earth via a created portal in the sky.

Cherub Towne was shown as an orange, white and blue pastel city in the sky. Golden gates surrounded it and a crystalline sun shaped structure that appeared was actually a Throne angel.

The leader boy appeared on the screen.

“Well, howdy! I’m Cletus! Welcome to Heaven! Guess you did something good to get here, and good people deserve to give loved ones special blessings!”

The jingle began.

The clip showed a man falling to his death without a parachute. “Owie!” appeared in a bubble over the man.

Collin sang, “Does it make you want to cry…”

Keenie added, “When a loved one has to die?” as another human got run over by a speeding train. “Oh No!” appeared in a censoring through bubble.

“Does it hurt you through and through…” sang Cletus as a man was shown accidentally shooting himself in the face. “Oopsie!” was in another bubble over his face.

“When you face is turning blue?” They all sang as a man struggled to breathe in a noose.

“Luckily for you…” sang Collin the indigo sheep.

“There’s something we can do…” sang Keenie the yellow sheep.

The leader cherub smiled against the sunrise clouds.

“We can help keep them alive…”

They all posed and sang:

“So you can watch them thrive!”

The three cherubs flew together side to side as their logo “C.H.E.R.U.B.” appeared in bold golden letters on the screen.

“Cause here at C.H.E.R.U.B.,

We’ll save your honey bun from dying violently,

The next series of clips showed the sheep saving people from muggers, natural disasters, and various accidents. Cletus rescued a woman from a pack of animals while Keenie shoved a frightened Collin toward them, as he held a wooden plank with a nail in it.

“Cause here at C.H.E.R.U.B.,

No, we never even ask a fee,”

The next clip showed a human handing dollar bills to the leader boy, who held out a dismissive hand.

“Because good people spread the love,”

The next clip showed the two sheep cherubs hugging each other as pink hearts spread out in all directions.

“And we’re here for all above,”

The next clip showed a spinning earth with more hearts in every direction.

“We do the paperwork for you,”

The exhausted Collin wrote down at his desk surrounded by piles of paper around him. A nearby sign was a message from God to use people to get to the top.

“And the heavy lifting, too,”

The yellow female cherub lifted a heavy boulder from a crushed woman. The woman gave a weak smile and thumbs up.

A man in a car crash with a torn up chest and battered skin weakly smiled as the sheep cherubs appeared around him.

“So sit right back and let us bless a soul for you,”

The leader cherub smiled and flew close to the screen. He joined his two companions who lifted their heads up and harmonized. The golden C.H.E.R.U.B. logo appeared above their heads.

“Oh we, are the C.H.E.R.U.B.!”

(“Cherishing Human Existence, Releasing Unlimited Blessings.”)

Docile switched the TV off.

“You’re not gonna angrily blow up the TV with a gun are you?” Timmid asked in surprise.

“Of course not!” Docile called. “Who would do something crazy like that?!”

Timmid shrugged.

“Wow,” Docile breathed, sitting still. “That was…”

He turned around, beaming. “…the greatest commercial I’ve ever seen!”

Timmid blinked in surprise. “The jingle wasn’t great and those sheep look suspicious…”

Docile put an arm around his employee. “Come on, Timmid, the jingle was like a musical. And the amazing things the cherubs can do. Protecting humans and spreading love! And who knows what else!"

“We literally do the same thing,” she said.

Docile let go. “True but we mostly heal people, comfort the grief-stricken and restore things to normal. We’re far less…cheery and sheep-y…”

“Baa!” Sunna belted out loud, followed by high giggles. Tirred rolled his eyes.

Timmid sat up. “I have an idea. What if we all traveled to the other Heaven and asked C.H.E.R.U.B. to help us? We could join forces against Kiva’s new company and E.L.F. will continue on. Kiva may even leave us alone.”

Tirred scratched his head. “Are you sure? You know how hard it is for OCs and denizens of this realm to travel to the other realm.”

“It’s a piece of cake for the canon characters to travel here,” Docile mentioned. “It shouldn’t be that hard for us.”

“Well…” Sunna said, trying to be encouraging. “I only heard it takes several days to travel from Heaven to Hell and vice versa.”

Docile smiled and held up a finger. “Not if portals are used along with light speed. That’s how it’s always done every year.”

“We can’t just travel to and fro on a whim,” Tirred reminded them. “The bodyguard is still there.”

“Well, if you see him, just try and reason with him. Tell him that we’d like to combine our skills and hopefully E.L.F. can be heard about in the other Heaven, too. That’ll prove to Kiva just how capable I…I mean we, can be.”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

There was a knock at the door.

Docile got up to answer it. He flinched back when he saw Portal.

“Kiva’s ready to see you,” he said. “No crazy bets.”

“So much for that plan,” Docile mumbled to himself as he followed Portal. Portal opened the door to the recording studio. The four women had left, and Kiva was surrounded by a gang of slender singer cherubs. These cherubs appeared as whitish bi-pedal sheep, bees, and deer, wearing modern-day light-colored clothing. A woman sheep had light pink fur, a light pink face and wore a matching dress with flowers on it. Another male sheep wore purple overalls, a dark face and shining golden eyes. All the cherubs had white halos and wings. The cherubs were smaller than Kiva and hovered beside her, staring at Docile.

“How can I help you, Docile?” she asked, adding the “e.” “Come here to admit defeat and try again?”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” he said. “I’m traveling to meet with another company, which will totally outshine whatever yours is. They have excellent singers and a fantastic commercial. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to expand the best and only company in Heaven, E.L.F.!”

“How interesting,” said the pink singer. “What is your companion company?”

“Like I’d tell you.”

Kiva smirked. “This company you seek…it wouldn’t happen to be C.H.E.R.U.B., would it?”

Docile froze in his tracks…which was enough of an answer for her.

“Oh, so it is,” she said as Docile turned around.

“So maybe it is,” he added. “I’m gonna collaborate with them and your company will be blown out of the water!”

Kiva and the cherubs laughed. “Hahahaha!” Kiva grinned in superiority. “I work for C.H.E.R.U.B., little elf!”

“W-what?!”

Kiva lifted up a pocket of her dress that revealed the tiny logo. “I’m one of their assistants who spreads the word of their activities. Actually, more fun than being a Cleanser coach. Guess my fame here was able to reach the other realm.”

“I…I don’t believe this…”

“Forget about trying to join forces with C.H.E.R.U.B. Collin, Keenie and Cletus are too busy to be concerned about a bunch of struggling…non-canon elves!”

Kiva and her crew laughed again. Docile’s face turned red and he seethed.

Docile then glared in determination, sharp teeth showing, pointing his finger. “Listen here, snitch. My company was formed before yours! We were beginning to save lives while I.M.P. was just getting started! E.L.F. will continue to exist with or without your help. While your sheep sing Kumbaya on lyres, we’re out helping both humans and angels!”

Kiva leaned in toward Docile. “Big words from a little elf who formed a mediocre rip-off crew based on C.H.E.R.U.B! I’d like to see you get approved, or even noticed by the well-known figures in Heaven…or Hell! You’re utterly forgettable!”

“Oh yeah? Well, how about I propose something you will never forget! I challenge you to a…challenge! Gosh darn it, I said that twice.”

“Oh. What’s the game then, Docile?” She drew out the “e.”

“Every year, you airheaded muses go topside for easy entertainment when autumn break is a great date for positive fate and staying up late! So I bet…you cher-boobs can’t amore as many people as we can vivifica by the end of the day.” Docile briefly placed two hands over his heart to show love and then slowly raised his hands around his head to emphasis reviving. He grinned and held up a determined finger.

Kiva and her gang laughed yet again. Docile gave a determined glare.

They stopped. “Oh, you’re serious?” Kiva asked, leaning in close. “Game on, snitch.”

Docile walked out of the room to find Tirred and Portal talking. Tirred handed Portal a large handful of dollar bills.

“Forget about bribing, Tirred,” Docile said. “Kiva’s not gonna let us collaborate with C.H.E.R.U.B. on our terms like I’d hoped.”

Tirred just stayed silent.

“Let’s go, gang,” said Docile, “We’re going up.”

“To the next floor?” asked Timmid.

“No. Up to Earth.”

“Don’t you mean going down to Earth?” Tirred asked. “Because Heaven is higher and superior to…”

“Shut up Tirred!” Docile and Sunna barked.

0 0 0

E.L.F. went outside as Sunna carried the Bible in her arms. Docile posted several flyers that read “Autumn Break Rescues: 50% Off!”

“Now we wait,” Docile said.

“But sir,” mentioned a worried Timmid. “There is no way that enough clients will arrive to read a few ordinary, black and white flyers!”

Docile grinned as a line of cherubs, native angels and saints alike grew outside.

“Now, who’s first?” Docile asked as he walked over toward the clients.

Part Two: At The Beach

The beach in the human world was alive with humans from everywhere. Men, women, and children happily walked around, relaxed under umbrellas, or had snacks. Several surf boards stood up in the sand by a decorated teal wall with a wavy orange design taking up the center. The crowd was positioned between a wooden dock and a makeshift stage. Two women wearing sunglasses got comfortably close and kissed each other in the shade. A muscular dark-skinned man talked with a red-haired woman while a blonde guy wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap shook a bottle of pills into his mouth. Above the beach lay a small row of shops. One sign read “Pawn Paradise.” One sign read “Hotel” in red letters while another sign read “Sea Cream” with a teal ice cream cone structure next to it. Another sign read “Piccolo Pizza” and another read “Dagon Juice” and had a green fish with a sailor’s cap on it.

In the shadows under the dock, the E.L.F. crew emerged from algae covered rocks.

“Alright, you ready, guys?” Docile asked. The others nodded.

“Then let’s go…”

“Wait,” Sunna held up a paw. “Shouldn’t we all be in human disguises?”

“What now?” Tirred asked.

“You know, to blend in so we don’t get caught?”

“You’re just bringing it up now, Sunny?” Docile asked.

“I got distracted by…” Sunna’s cat eyes landed on a large white cat-like man pacing by the stage. Portal. “…stuff.”

Docile gave her a brief wink. “Right. But be sure to get some work done first. We’re all gonna have to work together if we stand a fighting chance. Got the list, Sunny?”

“Got it,” she said, sniffing a scroll of paper and examining the names on it.

“Look around for anyone who might need saving or love or comfort,” Docile said.

“Do you think C.H.E.R.U.B. needs to take on human forms every time they go to Earth? Or do they have the privilege of being adored by everyone they meet?”

Docile faced Tirred with wide eyes and a strained grin. “Not helping, Tirred.”

Sunna held up a picture of a group of four humans. It was I.M.P. in their human forms. Blitzo had light brown skin, red eyes, a slender tall body, and short wavy black hair. He also had his black birthmark on his forehead. His look radiated a child-like smugness. Moxxie was a short, red-eyed man with white skin, a lanky body, and his signature white hair. A grumpy look was present on his face. The beaming Millie was African American, with wild black hair, dark brown skin, red eyes, makeup, and thick eyelashes. Finally, the aloof Loona had pale skin, red eyes, a partially shaved head, bars in her ears and a mane of long gray hair. They all wore the same work outfits.

“This should work,” Sunna said. “If it did for them, it can do for us.”

The four members stepped forward, their bodies enveloped by swirling magical blue light. The light faded away and there they stood in their human disguises. Docile was slender and white with gray eyes and short black hair…he even had a birthmark on his forehead. Tirred was short with white skin, black hair, a thicker body, and serious black eyes. Timmid was little and blonde, with pale skin and green eyes. Last of all was Sunna, a well-formed African American woman with brown eyes and brown braided strands of thick hair. All of them wore their same outfits. They stared at themselves and their hands in amazement.

“Meow,” catcalled a nearby human man who crept up to Sunna. With a roll of her eyes, she landed an uppercut to his chin, and he collapsed.

“Alright kitty, kitty,” called Docile to Sunna, “Lead the way!”

Sunna spotted a muscular man with a bare chest sweating in the sun. After he collapsed from heat exhaustion, Sunna raced over and carried him toward a shady spot. Timmid summoned a bottle of water from thin air and lifted it to his lips. The man groaned and stared at them with relief in his eyes. Once he was back to normal, he thanked them and went off to get some ice cream.

The other blonde man with sunglasses was staggering in the sand, unaware of anything going on. Docile rushed over while Sunna held him steady. Using his golden rod-shaped angelic staff, Docile pressed the sphere against the man’s back. The drugs vanished from his system and the man stood up. Sunna grinned and handed him a magazine titled, “How to Cure Your Depression and Be Closer to God.” After they left, the man rolled his eyes and tore the magazine in half. “Religious salespeople,” he muttered.

Several lifeguards pulled an African American to shore, her leg was bleeding heavily from a shark bite. Tirred waved his hand over the wound, and it closed on its own. As the others around them gasped in shock at what he did, Docile waved his staff and their eyes went blank. The humans all went back to their activities, not even noticing the disguised elves anymore.

Timmid gave a white woman CPR and then pulled her child from the riptides. Sunna helped rescue a man from a mugger in an alleyway. Docile showed a crying child a picture of three fluffy cats. Tirred helped an elderly man up the stairs. Finally, Docile confronted a drug addict and told him about how dangerous it was for him to keep doing drugs. The man didn’t listen, but when Docile told him what could happen to his family, the man pondered his words, begged for forgiveness, and suddenly collapsed from a heart attack. Thankfully with Docile’s healing magic, the man recovered before death could claim him.

“I hereby bless you with determination and a chance to go to Heaven if you are willing to redeem yourself.”

The man gazed at Docile, rubbed his eyes and carelessly walked away.

Although many people wouldn’t listen to the elves, a majority of the time, the elves were very persuasive in steering people away from sin.

Docile smiled in approval as the gang reunited. “Nine rescues in the bag, guys! Well done! I’d like to see that pompous princess score that many…”

“All right fall breakers!” called a familiar voice. A large crowd had gathered around the stage. It was Kiva in her human form. She had long blonde hair, white skin, and ocean green eyes. She wore a short emerald, green wavy dress that exposed her right shoulder and wore matching heels.

“Are you all ready to have some fun and make some divinely good choices?!”

The crowd cheered and a fanboy yelled “Kiva!” Her name was written in blue on his bare chest.

Several teal spotlights shone on her and hearts flashed on the two screens on either side of the stage. “Confess, Docile,” was shown in white letters on the screens…Docile seethed in anger.

Kiva began her love song, the crowd hooked onto every word. She sung like a siren on land, luring the humans to promises of enlightenment and bliss.

“All aboard

Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay, babe

Take it straight to Bonetown

V-time, free time, love to share

Romance, fun dance, global care

Massages and che-rubs on your back

You are more than what you may lack

Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay, babe

Take it straight to Bonetown

Ice cream, sunscreen, volleyball to play

Kindness, pure bliss, seizing the day

Back to my place, it’s Cloud Nine

No need to stress when everything is fine

Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay, babe

Take it straight to Bonetown.”

Before long, the humans were laughing and hugging each other. Some gave each other kisses and said nice things. Many of them made out as well. Kiva’s cherub angels were in human form as well, with varied skin tones and genders. Most of them wore high-quality clothing, shirts with pockets for the men and silky sun dresses for the women. A lion cherub was disguised as a white man with long blonde hair. He walked up to another man and smiled warmly. The human cried with joy and rushed into his arms for a hug. Another cherub appeared as a black man, soon surrounded by adoring human women. The cherubs’ eyes were a mixture of teal and gold.

“God dammit!” cried Docile. “Kiva has started her godish mating call! Now she’s gonna win all those love lunatics! We gotta pick things up, guys! He on the list, Sunny?”

He mentioned to a blonde man wearing boxer shorts, smoking a cigarette.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I guess.” Sunna stared at Portal who was guarding the stage. He appeared as a muscular blonde, white man wearing his suit. He had a necklace with a pendant in the shape of a cat.

“Good!”

The man looked at Docile. “Whoa, what are you…a leprechaun?” asked the blonde man with a strained laugh as he pushed down his sunglasses.

“Oh yeah, pretty lame, huh?” Docile asked in annoyance. He waved his staff and the man’s mind went blank. He fell on his knees. The smoke cleared from his lungs. Docile tossed the man’s cigarette away.

“And you sure as spit won’t tell anyone.” Docile turned back. “All right, next one, Sunny, come on.”

He looked around and saw Sunny slowly making her way toward Portal.

“Oh. Be careful and good luck!” he called with a wave.

Sunna made her way through the crowd, avoiding a French-kissing couple and a herd of dancers. A male white cherub appeared by her and gave her a wink. Sunna rolled her eyes and shoved him away.

One of the fanboys squealed and ran toward Kiva with his arms out. Portal grabbed hold of him and dragged him away.

Kiva turned to one of the cherubs on stage. “Invite them in.”

The cherub walked off the stage with a Bible in his hand. He drew a Christian Cross and a pink sigil of the name Vivienne in front of him. He chanted in the angelic language.

When Portal dismissed the boy, he looked at Sunna and smiled.

“Hello.”

“H-Hi,” Sunna said nervously.

“Say, you’re that cat working for my boss’s troublesome previous intern.”

“Yeah,” said Sunna, “Sorry if that’s weird.”

“It’s cool,” he said. “The past is the past. I’m paid and I do my job…all that matters.”

“Yeah,” Sunna laughed nervously. A high squeak escaped her lips. “I’m Sunna!”

Portal rolled his eyes and gave her a small smile. “I’m Portal.”

“That’s hot,” Sunna said with a grin. Then her face turned red and flustered. “I mean like literally you know because portals, you know, they give off heat. Probably.” She pointed both fingers in a snap, trying to act cool.

Portal chuckled. “My friends call me Tal.”

“Nice, very nice.”

Docile appeared not too far away. “Are you gonna ask him on a date?” Docile whispered to her. Sunna waved her hand in annoyance at him. “Shush!” she hissed under her breath.

“I think I know a great place you two could meet,” Docile said. He glanced over at two people randomly carrying a third person on a mattress across the sand.

“No, no, no!” Sunna said as Docile held in laughter. Portal just looked on.

Sunna turned to Docile and whispered. “Why are you embarrassing me?”

“I just want what’s best for you,” he said.

“I can do things on my own,” she replied.

“Sure, like your job, but this is a new area for you, and I thought…”

Sunna moved a hand over her face in frustration. “Just please, let me do this on my own.”

Docile turned to Portal. “I adopted my little pussycat when she was eighteen!”

Sunna growled in annoyance.

“If you want, I have pictures of her even younger!”

Sunna’s face turned red. “Please, just leave me alone for five minutes, at least! Why are you behaving like this?”

“Because I adopted you and I want to help keep you safe. My protectiveness should mean something.”

Sunna hissed, “Well right now it doesn’t!”

“Well, if you want to go back working for the rest of your life, have at it. Don’t forget your earlier years when you needed me most.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore! I didn’t need you then, Docile! And I don’t need you now. You’re not my real dad!”

Docile turned his back toward her, hiding a hurt look on his face. Sunna also had a hurt expression as well, seconds after she had said her words.

“Uh…” Portal began, scratching his head at the awkward situation. He turned to Sunna. “You were…asking me out?”

“No, no I wasn’t!” Sunna nervously stuttered out loud. “It was just my dad’s…um adoptive dad’s crazy idea. I’m not interested in you in that way, but I love you…as a person…ya know…uh…”

“Okay?” he asked. “If you ever want to give me a call, go for it. My friend throws the best feline parties back in Heaven…”

Tears of embarrassment spilled from Sunna’s brown eyes. “Party, new friends, lots of fun! Gotta go back to work, nice mating you…uh meeting you! Bye!”

“Sunny, wait!” called a concerned Docile. But the disguised cat had dashed off into the twilight.

0 0 0

The sky had turned from a brilliant blue to a sunset orange. Purple and indigo colors appeared in the sky with each passing minute. Timmid was finishing healing another person when she spotted a figure in the distance near the stage. It looked like one of Kiva’s minions, looking from side to side.

“What are those sneaky cherubs up to now?” she asked herself.

“Hey, Timmid,” called Tirred who arrived beside her.

“Hey Tirred, haven’t seen you in a while. You see that cherub over there?”

Timmid mentioned to the white human woman in a teal dress moving sideways by the stage.

“Yes. I think we should go get some information out of her,” Tirred said. “I don’t know about you, but Kiva seems pretty suspicious.”

“Agreed. Let’s go.”

Just before the two elves reached her, the frightened cherub dashed up some steps and vanished. Kiva’s show had ended for the moment. The two elves reached backstage and hid among the red curtains on either side. Timmid peered through and saw the cherubs strolling around and putting away instruments. The front of the stage was curtained off, obscuring the stage from the beachgoers.

Just then, Tirred stepped forward into Kiva’s line of sight. Her gang of cherubs all turned their heads.

“Tirred, wait!” called Timmid, following him before she could stop herself.

Tirred summoned an angelic spear into his hand and pointed it at Kiva with a glare. His eyes darted from side to side, his body shaking. The spear was the one he often practiced with in his spare time.

“This ends now, Kiva!” he said. “You can admit that you’ve won the contest…but leave E.L.F. alone…or else.”

Kiva looked at both of them, moving a slender finger toward her chin.

“You’re outnumbered dear,” Kiva smiled. “Best if you surrender now.”

“No, don’t surrender, Tirred!” Timmid urged, getting into a fighting stance. “We can work something out once Docile gets back.”

Several pairs of eyes glowed eerily on Kiva’s white wings in the dim light. Kiva smirked. “Oh, I wasn’t talking to him.”

Timmid stepped back as Tirred gave her a strange apologetic smile. Suddenly it seemed like getting to Kiva was too easy.

She had to warn Docile and Sunna.

She sprinted back toward the curtains and opened them. The blonde-haired beefy Portal suddenly towered in front of her, mouth partially open. He extended his meaty white hands. Timmid leaped out of the way and slid under him, but he yanked her back by grabbing one of her arms. Timmid yelped in shock and fear. He soon had her in his grip, one of his hands over her mouth. Timmid felt a sharp pinch to her neck and was overcome by black.

Timmid groggily woke up, the world coming back into focus. She looked around, then down…and found herself tied to a pole. Rope was wrapped around her waist and her hands were tied behind her. She struggled against the bonds.

“Excellent work, Tirred,” Kiva praised nearby. “They should arrive any minute now.”

They?

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Timmid watched as Tirred handed his spear to one of Kiva’s cherubs. The cherub placed the spear on a small black stand in the center of the space. After a flash of magic, the spear hovered in the air on its own. Energy reflected from the spear’s sharp tip, opening a swirling hole in the glowing pink symbol in the air.

Timmid gasped as she stared down at her now clawed green fingers. Tirred had changed back to an elf as well. Back at the beach, Docile stared at his elf reflection in the water.

Sunna walked past him, still in human form.

“That’s what happens when you don’t practice using your disguise for a while. It wears off after several hours.”

Docile face-palmed and scowled before lowering his hand. He sat on a rock, tired from saving so many people…and upset at the current events.

Sunna froze. The dark woman took a deep breath and forced herself to turn around. Something urged her to help set things right.

Several minutes of silence ticked by. The only sounds heard were the motions of the waves, the cawing of gulls and distant chatter.

If Sunna had been in her cat form, her ears would’ve twitched.

“Docile,” she said tentatively as she crept toward him. “I…I’m sorry about before, you know…”

Docile didn’t move.

Sunna moved closer and wiped a few sad tears away. “About what I said…I really didn’t mean it…”

“Didn’t you?” he solemnly asked.

Sunna sighed. “Look, we all have our bad moments. I know you were trying to help me make a good impression. But you were just embarrassing me in front of him! I’m not a little kitty anymore.”

“But you are still my daughter…or adoptive daughter. You have your duties to fulfill, and I have mine.”

“Life isn’t just about work and serving a higher power,” Sunna mentioned, inching closer to him on the large rock. “I’ll admit, I do it almost every day but other times I love lazing around. Life’s a chance to explore and try new things. To really live and do things you enjoy.”

“Not to the point of selfishness,” Docile said. “Pride is the root of all the sins, you know.”

“Is it really selfish to want to fall in love? To seek pleasure for its own sake and to follow your dreams because you want to?”

Docile turned to look at her. “Not everyone gets a chance to live their dreams, Sunna. Not even in Heaven. I’ve worked hard, served many people, yet I’m still just cloud fluff in society’s eyes. Elves and imps, the lowest of the low. Eventually you learn to be grateful with what you have and be…docile in life.”

Sunna raised a thick eyebrow. “Where’s that hidden adventurous Docile I know and love? The Docile who isn’t always docile? The one quick as lightning, who’s willing to take risks to protect those he loves and his wondrous goals?”

“I’m not a reckless imp,” he replied.

“You don’t have to be. You just have to be yourself and find that perfect balance.”

“Easier said than done.”

Sunna put a comforting hand on his back, sniffing. “I’m so sorry.”

After a moment, he said, “I’m sorry, too. You really have grown up a lot and…I’m very proud of you.” Docile wrapped her in a tight hug, gently rocking her. “Hey. Where’s that sunny Sunna I know and love?”

Sunna let out a few hysterical sobs. “She’s right here, dad.”

They embraced for a while and then let go.

Sunna stood up and sniffed the air. “There’s something wrong.”

“Want another hug?”

“No, I can feel something in the air. I haven’t seen Tirred or Timmid around for a while. We’re supposed to meet back up here.”

“Could they be lost?” Docile asked.

“Or worse…”

Both of them glanced over at the stage in the distance. Several cherubs stood guard around it, including Portal.

“Kiva,” Docile breathed in anger.

Without hesitation, the elf sprinted off across the sand. “Wait!” Sunna called, racing after him. “It could very well be a trap!”

“I know. Go call the human police,” Docile said. “I’m not leaving my employees behind no matter what!”

Sunna smiled, though concern was present in her eyes. “You got this, dad!”

“Hey woodland pets!” Docile called in a mocking tone.

Docile summoned an angelic spear and knocked aside a few disguised cherubs with a wide swipe. One of them landed a punch, but he dodged out of the way. A few more rushed at him, but he leapt into the air, using his wings to steady himself. Docile spun around and landed several kicks to the cherub’s faces. They were knocked to the ground, but easily got up. Docile landed onto the wooden stage floor and burst through the curtains. There he spotted Timmid tied up. With another skilled swipe, the ropes fell off her. Timmid managed to get her hands free. All too quickly, the other cherubs closed in, one of them knocking away Docile’s spear. That spear was picked up by Kiva and added next to Tirred’s hovering weapon. The portal grew wider.

Docile and Timmid were quickly pinned down by more disguised cherubs from behind. They struggled as they faced Kiva.

“Not so noble now are we, Docile?” She pronounced the “e.”

“Smooth coming from you. Why go so low and capture my employees?”

Kiva glanced over. “Care to explain, Tirred?”

Docile gasped as Tirred stepped forward, a darkened look on his face.

“Explain what?”

Kiva grinned. “Tirred helped lure you elves over here so we could further our plan.”

“What plan?”

“To make C.H.E.R.U.B. the one and only reviving company in both Heavens. If you were to win, that would make us look bad. But if we win, which we will…we don’t want guys like you to cause any trouble.”

Docile smirked. “You sound as though you’re scared of us. What, we’re too ‘low class’ for you?”

“It’s just a way to keep you in line, to not have too many humans flocking to you and losing their way.”

“Why would they lose their way when we do exactly the same things as C.H.E.R.U.B.?”

“C.H.E.R.U.B. does what you do, only better. And as far as we know, you haven’t made an effort to keep demons in line.”

Docile scowled. “My Exorcist…erm Cleanser days are over. Killing or judging demons and Sinners is not my concern. If you had just let us collaborate with C.H.E.R.U.B. as friends, we wouldn’t be in the mess you so dearly made!”

“And if you hadn’t made your silly bet against us, you wouldn’t be here, humiliated, in the first place.”

Docile turned toward Tirred. “Don’t expect your paycheck for months, traitor,” he growled.

Tirred grit his teeth and turned toward Kiva. He clutched his head several times and strained. “We…we had an agreement. I brought you my employees, they surrendered, you win. I gave Portal my money and resumes. Now let us free so we can do our…new jobs.”

“New jobs?” Docile asked, eyebrow raised.

Tirred’s eyes glazed over, and he went slack again. “Not for you,” Tirred said. “I meant for Timmid and I.”

Timmid stared at Tirred in disbelief and curiosity as he walked over to her. “You know how E.L.F. struggles in comparison to so many in Heaven. Sure, saving lives is important, but what if we could make a difference in an alternative way? To cleanse the evil scum that threatens the lives of humans and the Heavenly Order?”

“By mercilessly killing demons every year?”

Tirred grinned. “Yeah. Kiva offered me money and protection to become an Exorcist in the other Heaven!”

Docile gasped. “Are you bucking nuts?! How can that be legal?! Tirred, the demons in Hazbin Hell may be evil but it’s up to them to reflect on their sins…in the hopes that they may end up better than before. You say that angels are greater than humans, but demons…they were innocent humans once, too.”

“Oh, so now you go for the side of evil?!” Tirred and Kiva both yelled at the same time.

Tirred added, “It’s just tradition, Timmid. What difference would it make for us to change things up a bit…together? We could train and be our own bosses. And C.H.E.R.U.B. could pick up where we left off.”

Timmid stared back in thought. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “She’s using you, Tirred. All of them are. I heard you guys talking when I was waking up. She spied on us and knew that you would be tempted to take up the offer. You help hold E.L.F. together…”

A faraway look came into his eyes, then vanished. Timmid noticed a faint teal glow in his orbs she hadn’t noticed before.

“I know you’re in there, Tirred. Think of all the fond memories we had. Do you realize how important you are to us?” she asked.

“Or were?” Docile asked. Tirred had been tricked and now he appeared to be in some kind of daze. Although part of it was his own fault. Docile knew of the elaborate mind control spell: the Adina curse. A spell created by a ruthless angel, capable of hypnotizing an entire God-serving army at the extreme. It was barely noticeable to anyone, save for those with trained eyes.

Thankfully, Tirred was under a weaker temporary version of it, but it was still bad news.

Timmid ignored Docile.

“Well, our old life is behind us, Timmid. For our sakes and for Kiva’s, let’s surrender to C.H.E.R.U.B. and do what she says.”

He held out a hand to her…and she promptly spit into his face. He flinched and shook his head.

“I’ll never join you, Tirred. Especially when you’re not yourself.”

“Well then,” he turned on his heel. “Enjoy your time in the streets begging for clients and money.”

She scoffed and gathered her courage. “Enjoy your time being single.”

“Oooooooh,” remarked a chubby male cherub before Tirred shoved him aside.

Kiva glanced over at the portal, which hummed with energy. She clapped her hands. “Excellent, they’re here!”

Docile gasped softly as the three C.H.E.R.U.B. members flew through the portal. Music box tunes mixed with angelic choirs played in the background as they arrived. The three members briefly flew into the air out from the stage and did aerial tricks.

“Look, it’s C.H.E.R.U.B.!” one of the humans called, pointing upwards. The humans at the beach cheered in the sunset as the C.H.E.R.U.B. members happily waved and blew kisses. One of them, Collin, gave a nearby child a brief hug.

The three of them flew back toward Kiva.

“Welcome good sirs and ma’am!” she said to them, arms out.

Cletus, the leader in overalls, stared in surprise at the restrained Docile and Timmid.

“What is the meaning of this? Release those leprechauns immediately!”

“Oh, for buck’s sake!” Docile cried.

“Trust me,” said Kiva. “It’s better to have them restrained here until they can fully commit to us. I don’t want their rival company to slow us from our progress.”

“Why can’t they be friends with us? I’m sure they have a lot to offer.”

“Precisely my point!” Docile called before getting hit in the back by his captor.

“With all due respect,” said Kiva. “You three do your job very well. You’ve saved so many people on Earth and your message of love and peace knows no bounds. But I suggest you wait until they become new C.H.E.R.U.B.…interns.”

“No way,” Docile breathed, knowing that the one thing worse than losing his company was being mind-controlled by another.

“We don’t want those elves lonely and forgotten. They saw your commercial and were dying to meet you three.”

“Dying’s never good,” Cletus remarked. “’Survive, revive, thrive,’ that’s our motto.”

“Wait,” said Collin, “I thought it was ‘Good people spread the love.’”

“I’m pretty sure it was ‘You live, we give!’” added Keenie with a twirl of her yellow dress.

“Did any of you listen in the last meeting?” Cletus said. “We gotta stick to one motto. Changing too much doesn’t help with the branding…”

Kiva cleared her throat. “Time is of the essence, dear friends. It is time to show E.L.F. just how much we’re capable of. Starting with the humans and I.M.P.”

“The humans are all fine,” Keenie said. “Though way too many of them die…and many of them are so mean and so unsophisticated.”

Yes,” said Collin, “Those freaks who write and draw and drool over all of us in the most obscene ways.”

All three C.H.E.R.U.B. members turned and glared at the camera before looking back and smiling again.

“Reviving all of the humans we can…and eliminating the unfaithful…” Kiva added. “And keeping all eyes on those devilish imps in Hell.”

“We’ve tried once before,” said Collin sadly, munching on a sugared doughnut he brought with him. “Making friends with them, singing them songs about new hope. They’ve grown up in such dire conditions with not a lot of opportunities. All they know how to do is kill.”

“Perhaps all they need is some love, some music, and a chance to ‘relive the afterlife again!’” declared Keenie.

Cletus elbowed her. “I like singing too, but this ain’t Disney. You know how angry and jealous those imps are of us. And I’m pretty sure that elf over there is giving us the stink eye.”

He pointed down at Timmid.

“Besides, that motto sucks. Too repetitive.”

“It is not!”

“It most certainly is.”

“No way!”

“Shut the front door!” Collin called abruptly. One of the cherubs shut a lone door that was part of a set of props. “Thank you,” said Collin in relief. “I couldn’t stand to look at that robotic clown poster.”

“Enough!” called an impatient Kiva. She took a breath. “Please, please, my friends…we have work to do. You don’t want those demonic creatures to spoil your hard work by killing off more mortals, do you?”

The sheep mumbled in agreement.

Kiva straightened up. “Then let your transformation begin.”

The three sheep looked at each other in concern but complied with their advisor’s words. The curtains opened up on both sides, leaving a clear path to the outside. They flew into the air, held hands and then spun in a circle. Kiva held an open Bible in her hands and chanted a spell in the angelic language. The spell had the word YHWH and VVNN-MDRN in it. The sheep spun faster until they became a speeding white circular blur. A glowing white circle appeared against what was left of the setting sun over the ocean.

The gang led the elves on the beach. The sky had a blinding brightness to it…many of the humans gasped and covered their eyes. Some of the people were pointing at the scene and screaming. Everyone except Kiva was surprised, even Tirred almost broke out of his trance with a worried look. Portal and the cherubs stared with worried looks.

One long white angel wing looped in a downward arc against the now golden sky. Then another wing did the same thing. Soon there were six large wings, two pointing down, two wings extended to the sides and two more crossed over slightly above the first two. The wings burst into white flames and glowing yellow eyes slowly appeared on each of them. Golden moving bands slowly materialized around the wings, forming large rings with more eyes on them. Appearing in the white sphere of energy inside everything was a much larger golden eye that almost seemed transparent.

The divine creature pulsed with powerful energy as rays of light shone from the large eye in every direction. Some of the humans ran for their lives while others prostrated onto their knees on the spot.

Docile nodded to Timmid and the two of them whirled around, freeing themselves while the cherubs were distracted. They landed several nimble kicks and punches, knocking them out. The elves took to the sky on their wings. Timmid gasped as an entranced Tirred was lifted into the air by vine-like light from the hybrid monstrosity. As he hovered in the air, the left side of his face slowly morphed into the black skin of an Exorcist.

The effects of the other world were already beginning to kill him.

For one of the first times in her life, Timmid brushed aside her fear. She knocked out another cherub and snatched up a long holy dagger and a bottle of holy water from his belt. Her white hair fluttered in the breeze as she flew toward Tirred over the dark ocean with objects in hand. Tirred was pulled closer to the scrutinizing eye, which began to invade his very soul. Timmid’s feet landed on one of the spinning wheels and she raced on, her stretched wings supporting her.

Squelch, squelch, went her feet as she stepped onto the eyes with a look of disgust on her face. She dragged her dagger along behind her, creating a screeching noise and sending off a shower of blood and sparks. The force of the larger wings tried to send her back, but Timmid held on with all her might.

She finally reached Tirred, who tried to shove her away. She reached for his hand and forcefully grabbed his wrist. She tried to pull him out of the golden light bonds, but he wouldn’t budge. The golden wheel was tipping dangerously. She slashed her knife forward, cutting the bands loose and freeing her companion. When Tirred almost knocked her down, she slashed lightly at his neck and muttered an apology. He growled out in pain but didn’t protest further.

Timmid hoped the holy water would reverse his curse soon.

Just when she was about to open the small bottle, the wheel tilted again, causing her to lose her items and almost fall. Tirred was pushed away by the wind, and he sailed back to the beach. He landed haphazardly in Docile’s arms.

“Urgh, I hate that woman,” he growled. “Judgement will come to the unfaithful.”

“Tirred,” Docile said in a rare show of passive-aggressiveness, “Please screw yourself on a sword.”

And with that, Docile promptly knocked him out.

Back at the battle, Timmid held onto the spinning ring with both hands. The circular fire of the eye below her flared like a miniature sun, her feet dangling. The more she spun around, the more she almost fell. She screamed for her life, calling on God to rescue her.

More rays of light shot from the large eye toward the beach. In a cemetery, a bunch of recently dead criminals suddenly rose back to life. They stood confused at first, but the gang of men grinned and began to chase after frightened women nearby. More people rose from the dead, some of them spreading their racism toward others. A loving child with a deadly disease raced back toward his parents.

Kiva recited from the Genesis: “…And God said unto them: 'Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that creepeth upon the earth.’”

“Why are you doing this?!” Docile cried. “You’re allowing the Earth to be overpopulated!”

“Three dark ram freaks gave me the idea!” Kiva grinned. “You save lives too. Don’t we not have the same goals?”

“Not to defy the cycles of life! Both C.H.E.R.U.B. and E.L.F. cannot raise the dead!”

It was then that Docile realized: macabre as they were, I.M.P. must exist for a reason…a manifestation of destruction to clash with creation.

“This is chaos! Without death there is no life!”

“And life is never complete when there are demons and sin to lead one astray,” Kiva replied.

Kiva smiled. “C.H.E.R.U.B. will soon give people a second chance at human life…to prove that they are worthy in His eyes. All the rest will go to Hell upon death, as is tradition.”

“But why have second chances when the majority of people go to Hell anyway? There’s no justice, even of the vengeful kind. It creates an unfair system!”

“Exactly. A system that may be unfair to some, but it works. It has worked for thousands of years. The worthy get in, the dammed eventually die again. There is nothing in this world that can change that.”

“You’re wrong,” Docile glowered. “Just you wait. Even some demons have good inside them.”

Kiva brushed off his comment. She muttered in a low voice, “Search for I.M.P.”

Before the remaining disguised cherubs could take off, Docile tripped them and promptly knocked them out.

“I don’t need to be an Exorcist Cleanser to eliminate threats like you,” Docile spat. “Especially when you play God and decide who’s worthy or not for yourself! You know only the Lord can do that!”

“Is that so? See for yourself,” said Kiva, mentioning to the angel monster. “That divine cherub hybrid sees everything…no one can defeat it head on. And it appears that your employee won’t last much longer.”

Docile’s face fell. He knew there was no way he could reach Timmid in time. With the potential loss of two members, he would be reduced to a lost cause. The cherubs slowly got up, preparing to surround him again.

He held up his hands in defeat, eyes closed. “Just…let us live, we’ll do what you want, Kiva I give…”

Docile almost surrendered right then and there.

But upon opening his eyes, he spotted something long and glinting not too far away. The two hovering spears stood inches over the stand, light from the tips supporting the portal.

A last determined look crossed his face. He picked up Tirred in his arms and flapped his wings.

“…you my regards!”

Portal blocked the path to the spears but Docile raised his arms, tossing the unconscious Tirred into the air. Tirred landed against Portal’s white face, briefly making him stumble. In the split second that Portal was distracted, Docile charged and rammed his head against him as hard as he could. Portal stumbled backward, bumping into the podium. He, Tirred and the stand crashed to the floor, taking the spears with them.

“Docile…” thought Timmid.

Timmid closed her eyes and her spear magically appeared by Docile’s feet. He pushed himself up and grabbed the weapon.

The other two spears slowly made their way back into position…

Whack!

With a well-aimed swipe, Docile’s spear cut through the other ones like sticks. The broken spears clattered to the ground, the light fading from their tips.

Timmid cried a river of tears, unable to hold any longer. Her hands slipped from the ring and she began to fall with a yell.

The creature suddenly vanished in a shower of white light, and Timmid plummeted into the ocean. She bobbled her head and reached the surface with several gasping breaths of relief. She looked up and saw the three C.H.E.R.U.B. members defusing. The sheep shook their heads before hugging each other.

“Man, that was horrible!” exclaimed Keenie.

“It felt like my wool was on fire,” Collin added.

“Kiva always was a female dog,” Cletus added. “We gotta make sure this event doesn’t get out!”

They all glanced down at Timmid with wide cute eyes. “We’re sorry!” they all sang.

Timmid just glared suspiciously.

The three members flew back through a portal.

“This isn’t over!” Kiva called, summoning another portal. But for some reason, she and her gang couldn’t get through.

Deerie, a deer cherub floated toward Kiva from the colorful opening. She summoned glasses and a clipboard.

“Yeah, no, sorry dear, but you cannot re-enter Heaven now. Nor see C.H.E.R.U.B. ever again.”

“What?!” she screeched.

“Since you’ve been messing with the affairs of humans and seeing as how you failed in your mission to bring down I.M.P…yeah, no, sorry. And reviving humans is a big no no.”

She happily waved with a “Bye!” and went through the portal.

“No!” Kiva cried, extending a hand as the portals closed and the sigil disappeared. “That wasn’t my idea!”

Kiva seethed as her human disguised cherubs surrounded her. The gang walked to the beach. Docile grabbed another bottle of holy water and poured it down the still Tirred’s throat. He muttered a prayer and felt the last of the mind numbing magic dissipate away. Tirred’s wounds healed up and the Exorcist features faded to reveal his normal face. He was free of the spell.

Tirred’s eyes fluttered open and he groaned. “D-Docile?”

Timmid raced over, dripping wet and hugged him.

“What happened?” Tirred asked.

“You were being conned into working for Kiva and being a total ass,” Docile deadpanned.

“I’m truly sorry. I let my desires led me astray…”

“It’s okay,” Docile said. “I gotta have a talk with my former boss. And get us some new spears.”

The elves walked onto the beach and met Kiva and her cherubs. Sunna came skipping back.

Kiva smirked when she saw Docile. “That was handled rather…obvious, don’t you think?”

“I’ll say,” said Timmid. She and Docile raised their summoned golden staffs into the air, mind-wiping the surrounding humans. The formerly frightened and concerned people went about their day without a care in the world. With a gut-wrenching feeling and tears, Docile sent the revived maniacs back to their graves, restoring the balance of life.

Timmid continued. “Would be a shame if anyone found out you guys unlocked a secret evil form of C.H.E.R.U.B., along with helping to push a sinister agenda that could ignite a rebellion in Hell and a soon to be World War Three. Oh right, you just got banished!”

“Oh Jesus! You and your crazy conspiracy theories,” Tirred sputtered to her. He turned to the cherubs. “You guys will be screwed, screwed, screwed!”

“Yeah,” Kiva began. “Well you three will at least be in trouble for going against a canon organization and not wearing your disguises the whole time!”

“Snitch, a human called me a leprechaun. I am not a bucking leprechaun,” Docile added. He stepped closer. “You know, we could keep your little Viv cartoon agenda on the down low if you allow us to keep our company…and my parking spot!”

Kiva scoffed. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Docile cheered. “We won! In your face, psychotic b-witch!”

“Come on gang, let’s get out of here,” Kiva said with a sneer. “Tal!”

“Guess I gotta bounce,” said Portal to Sunna. “Feel free to give me a call sometime."

Sunna blushed and said, “Will do.”

“Stop on by for my friend’s feline parties. Let’s get you living the life!”

Portal walked away and followed Kiva up the stairs and onto the street. Kiva and her gang were quickly surrounded by police on horseback and drawn guns.

“Alright disciples,” said Kiva, “Get ready to atone for a lot of your sins.”

Her gang groaned in defeat as they raised their hands in surrender.

A portal was created in the air. Timmid carried Tirred through, while Sunna followed Docile. The portal closed and they were back in Heaven.

“Hallelujah!” Docile cheered as they parked their silver van in their rightful spot in front of E.L.F. headquarters. Off in the distance, the four women drove the chariot through another portal to the parallel Heaven.

“That was an unpleasant curse,” Tirred said. “I didn’t even realize I said those mean things to you.”

“It’s still partially your fault,” Timmid reminded him. “You still secretly wanted to be an Exorcist and get a taste of power. Sin can get anyone, even angels it seems.” Tirred hung his head.

“Yep,” Docile agreed. They got out of the van and headed back to the office. They met in the hallway. Docile smirked. “In fact, you can prove your loyalty to our company by scrubbing down the rooms from top to bottom.”

Sunna came back from a closet and handed Tirred a mop and a bucket.

“Seriously?”

“What goes around comes around,” Sunna mentioned with a grin.

“We cannot afford a lot of things right now…including losing someone so hardworking,” said Docile. “I know things can be a bit rough between us, but Timmid still has faith in you. We always have.”

Tirred gave them a small genuine smile.

“Don’t focus on what could be,” Timmid said, giving him a hug. “Focus on what is…right now.”

Tirred hugged her back, breaking into silent sobs.

“Are you…crying?” Docile asked.

“No sir!” he growled, letting go of Timmid. “You guys are still a bunch of airheaded wimps.”

“Now that’s the old Tirred we love!” Sunna said, back to her sunny personality.

“Alright Tirred, get to work,” Docile ordered. “Timmid, Sunna, let’s have some angel food cake to celebrate. You know devil’s food cake is forbidden.”

Sunna licked her lips. “Sounds yummy!”

Tirred grumbled as he cleaned.

#2phazbinhotel #heavenlyboss #2phelluvaboss

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