#i doodled these. in december good lord | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

strikearose · 4 years ago

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Uncovering Passione's Underside (1/1) GIOMIS

What one can learn by listening to what the secretive Passione's staff have to say about their Don... One-shot, GioMis, Post-canon, Humor, G+ You can also read it on ao3 here!

For as long as many Passione members could recall, Agnese Bianchi had always been there, grumbling as she would mop the hall floor and nagging at fellow cleaning employees and ruthless gang members all alike. It didn't matter how long their felonious resumes were, she simply couldn't stand slackers. Years of working within that specific industry had forged her strong character - she was honest, hardworking, and probably a tad too outspoken too about her aversion for mobsters, but she still knew better than to ask silly questions like some other people did.

The housekeeper glared at the man who'd been chatting up the new cleaner (and therefore, preventing her from mopping up the floor as she had explicitly urged her to) for the last half hour. His name was Trado, Trattore, or something that sounded way too much like Tradittore anyway: he was one of the Don's many henchmen. Ever since he had started working there, he had taken that annoying habit of snooping everywhere, making idle chitchat with the household staff during rush hour.

The old maid cleared her throat, grabbed her cleaning cart handles, and pushed it unceremoniously between the pair. "Is that what you call cleaning the reception room? Signore Giovanna wants it sparkling clean: go fix it now or apply for another job already!"

Her harsh tone worked just fine: the young employee, caught red-handed slacking work, gasped in surprise and mumbled a brief apology before leaving in a hurry. The man, however, didn't seem the least concerned about her admonition. He simply smiled and raised his hands in self-defense - and lord if there was a way he could possibly piss her off even more.

Agnese chose to simply disregard his presence and rummaged through her pockets to find the key she needed.

Click.

As it opened, she began to push her cleaning cart over the door sill with some difficulty.

"Need some help?"

Agnese sighed when she realized he was still there. Who the hell was he taking her for?

"I don't. As always, I'm doing just fine on my own."

To her dismay, it seemed that her sharp answer didn't manage to get rid of the gangster. For God's sake, couldn't he just go bother someone else, literally anyone but her? There was nothing Agnese hated more than to have someone watch her every move.

...

Or perhaps slackers.

Slackers who intended on watching her every move.

"So, for how long have you been working there? They say you'll bury us all..."

Agnese rolled her eyes as she finally managed to get her cart through the doorway.

"Long enough to have seen my fair share of slackers come and go..." The cleaning lady truly wished he'd get the memo this time. She had seen it all: louts in suits with fake good manners and scarred faces, but also men that seemed to be way too nice and curious for their own good. To her, that last species was the worst: they were wolves in sheep's clothing.

But of course, Trado (or Trattore or whatever was his name) didn't appreciate the subtlety of her response, and he continued his questioning: "You've been there long enough to have known the former boss, right? The one before Don Giovanna, a real freak apparently... "

Agnese tensed at that: she didn't like where the conversation was heading. She was unfortunately all too familiar with those office gossips. A little over five years ago now, Passione had gone from having no official face, to Giorno Giovanna's gracing every streets' corners. Rumors had it that the young, brilliant, man had brutally murdered the Original Don in the span of a week. Others thought that Giovanna's was his son and that the boss had simply granted himself a well-deserved retirement.

She couldn't care less about what had truly happened: Don Giovanna gave her a monthly salary as well as direct, concrete instructions. And those were the two things that mattered to her. He was good at that, giving clear orders to the people to his service. And it was nicer to serve him than to obey blindly the weird requests she'd receive by mail like before.

"Don't you really have anywhere else to go?", the cleaning lady suddenly turned to the man she had heard approaching but was relieved to see that he had not dared to enter the Don's office. He was looking at her, peering at what she was doing, from the door's threshold. "If you want a piece of advice, stop being so damn noisy."

The gangster laughed and at that, Agnese wished she could just sweep him out of the room.

"Relax! I'm new here, I'm just curious. Don Giovanna's pretty nice, he won't murder us over some harmless chitchat."

The Boss of a criminal organization, a nice man?

It was Agnese's turn to snort.

Yeah, she guessed it was the kind of public image he was adamantly working on And some people seemed to believe it: newspapers were reporting less traffic, a decline in thugs harming citizens' and tourists' safety. The astounding sums of money he was giving to local shelters, hospitals, and public schools were also common knowledge: rumors had it that the city council was even thinking of naming the brand-new biological museum, founded thanks to his many donations, after him.

As a boss, Agnese considered him to be pretty decent - well, as decent as being the Don of a criminal organization could possibly allow him to be considered. After all, he was well-educated enough not to leave clothes and magazines scattered everywhere like the previous boss and some of his most favored underlings did.

But as a man, there was no way she could possibly tell if he was nice. Agnese was just an old, tired cleaning lady: she never pried into the Don's private life even though she guessed there were things that couldn't escape her lack of malicious curiosity. Details such as notes and silly doodles scribbled on his desk, scraps of paper (of extremely dubious content) discarded in the garbage can she needed to empty or sweaters which were at least two sizes too big for him lying on the normally spotless ground of his room...

Sighing, the old maid was about to close the door behind her when she noticed it: the stupid smirk on the gangster's face. The stupid knowing smirk they always had whenever they would bring up the one topic she had no desire to discuss.

How she wished she could just spray him with a window cleaner to wipe it out of his face.

"You know people say 'bout them, right? I'm sure it's complete bullshit but..."

The answer Agnese gave him was the same she would lecture her own underlings with: "One thing I know for sure is that the Underboss always carries his gun on him... And the Don sure doesn't need one to silence people. So just drop it and mind your own business."

With a last sigh, she finally shut the door closed and started her heavy work. However, even though the noisy snoop had left, Agnese felt her mind drift to her first encounter with the Don as she was dusting the ancient bookcase.

It had happened about four years ago, on a late December afternoon - was it because she had arrived too early or because he had stayed in his office later than usual, but the door had been left open so she had loudly pushed her cart inside. The old cleaning lady had instantly understood her mistake - after all, there was little mystery about whom that man was... Who else would dare to enter the big boss's office in his absence?

Golden locks, emerald eyes looking right at her with mild surprise: he obviously had not been expecting her.

"Oh, it's already that time of the day," his chin tilted high and proud, the mafia boss had flatly made that statement.

Not knowing what to say, Agnese had simply nodded and taken a discreet look at the massive clock behind him. 8:17 pm. He was definitely the one behind schedule, not her: she was just on time.

Not that she could say it aloud anyway.

"I didn't know you were still in there, Signore Giovanna," while her head was slightly bowed as a sign of respect, she had not apologized for her intrusion. She had nothing to apologize for: boss or not, he was the one messing with the established schedule. "I'll come back to clean your office later."

Don Giovanna had however soon dismissed her concern with a motion of his hand.

"It's fine, you can start working now. I was about to leave anyway."

The old housemaid nodded and was about to approach the bookcase when she had stopped right on her track, seeing the state of the ancient Victorian carpet. The boss had a rather keen hearing as he almost instantly turned his attention away from his papers to peer at Agnese, understanding what the problem was right away.

The blood hadn't just spattered on the carpet - there were traces of it on the sofa. And on the cushions. As well as on the desk's marble border.

And of course, the Don had to insist on furnishing his office with pristine white furnitures - even the smallest stain could be spotted from miles away.

Well, at least to look at the bright sight, Agnese realized that she wasn't the one who had to take care of the body, to each, his own mess: scrubbing out the carpet was already going to be a real nightmare.

"I apologize for that," the voice of her employer was surprisingly gentle, and it had taken her off guard. "I'll make sure the floor is covered properly next time."

As unbelievable as it might sound, the Don had kept true to his word: she hadn't been able to find a single drop of blood in his office ever since.

And she had even gotten a raise in the following week.

Rumors had it that Don Giovanna was capable of prodigious deeds that a rational mind could not possibly explain: that dazzling smile of his could enchant things and bend them to his will. Some prominent figures from all parts of the world, whose identities shall remain hidden, had apparently come out of his office miraculously cured. But rumors also had it that the reason why his public appearances were becoming more and more scarce was because of a growing sensitivity to daylight.

So Agnese paid very little to no regard to them. Most of the time, like Tradutti had stated, it was indeed complete bullshit.

However, later that night, as she undid her bandages to observe the state of the burn on a forearm (a stupid domestic accident involving a boiling teapot), Agnese was amazed to find her epidermis completely smooth. There was no more blistering or dead skin: her forearm was of a softness that contrasted with the rest of her body:the astronomical amount of tiger balm and aloe vera used could not possibly explain that. So as much of a skeptic as she was, the cleaning lady was forced to admit that it had to be somehow related to her earlier encounter with the Don.

As soon as she had stepped outside his office after tidying it, she had spotted the mafia boss in the hallway. He was accompanied by five or six men dressed in equally expensive suits. Among them was a face quite familiar to her: the city mayor who was making it to the news because of yet another corruption scandal.

The last thing she needed was to get involved in this ugly mess, so the cleaning lady kept her head high and bravely pushed her cart forwards. What she wasn't expecting however was for the Don to stop her.

"Did you injure yourself?"

She had had no choice but to peer down too at her bandage and lie through her teeth: "It's nothing, Signore."

His face showed no emotion, but he took a step towards her and delicately grabbed the injured arm before she could protest. His grip was somehow gentle but tight: there was no way she could escape from it. It was a literal iron fist in a velvet glove.

Agnese could still recall feeling the gazes of the Mayor and his bodyguards on her, they had also stopped walking to stare at her. Her heart rate had momentarily quickened when the Don's hands had brushed over her wound, his emerald eyes never leaving her confused expression. A sharp pain had set her wrist on fire... And then nothing.

She no longer felt a thing - it was as if it had never happened: Don Giovanna had taken a step back and addressed his subordinates, and they all had resumed their walk, any concern about the poor old maid definitely forgotten. The only one who had graced her with something (a strangely amused smile) before leaving was Guido Mista.

The Underboss truly was something. He often reminded Agnese of her own son: way too careless and untidy. His room was a literal nightmare to clean: most of his cashmere sweaters (which he had no problem leaving on the floor for all that mattered) needed to be hand-washed, and he also had the specificity of returning several times a month completely riddled with bullets.

The fact that he was somehow still alive despite his many injuries was as much a real blessing to him that it was a curse for her.

After all, Agnese was the one who had to clean up after him: and there was nothing easier than to track him because with Underboss Mista came blood everywhere.

Everywhere.

From the pavement outside to the sheets of a certain person whose name shall remain unknown.

...

The kitchen timer rang and Agnese was brought back to reality.

She couldn't say for sure if the Don was responsible for this miracle, but she still wished he could have also helped with her rheumatism too.

━━━━━ ༻🌱༺ ━━━━━

Unlike Agnese, Rolfo Giardino was still fairly new at that whole managing-not-to-get-mixed-up-in-mafia-mess-while-working-for-them dilemma. This gardener may have had twenty years of experience, nothing could have possibly prepared him for what was about to come.

The headquarters' gardens themselves were very pleasant - they were spacious and ideally located. Starting from scratch, that is to say from an austere backyard where some pathetic trees were beginning to wither to this authentic example of Giardino all'italiana, adorned with classical sculptures, flowering shrubs, fountains and ornamental parterres, had not been easy at first but Signore Giovanna had agreed to pay the price without thinking twice and the result was worth it.

Now that it was done, now that Rolfo and his team only had to maintain the garden (meaning watering the flowers and cutting the hedges one or two times a week), he guessed the job would be pretty nice if it weren't for all those mobsters who, for some reason he still couldn't gather, enjoyed watching him work. That, as well as those dreadful echoes of gunfire and screams which would shatter from time to time the peaceful atmosphere of the garden.

The rustling of water, the birds' chirping, a loud explosion from within the building... A nice sunny day overall.

Some of his employees were still refusing to work there despite his best attempts to reassure them: for as long as they would stay away from the actual building, it was not like something could happen to them, right? Still, they were places where even Rolfo himself did not like to approach, near the window overlooking what he thought was the Big Boss's office for instance. He had been forced to come close (way too close) to it because of his client's special request to have ivy and white roses gambling along this wall.

He had started working on it on a day when the weather was so mild that the window had apparently been cracked open for once - and the uncanny noises and groans that had escaped through it had scared the gardener to death. He hadn't dared to peer inside to find out what was really happening: the last thing he needed to know was what the Don of Passione's private torture sessions consisted of. Ever since that unfortunate incident, Rolfo had not ventured any closer to the damn white rosebushes. The branches were becoming too long, they were clearly starting to block the path of light, but as long as the Don didn't make any complaint, Rolfo would leave them be.

But on that day, however, the poor gardener saw red as his eyes fell on the figure loitering near that damn window: who was that son of a bitch was stepping on his flower beds!

"Hey you fucking moron: Move! Can't you see you're ruinin' my work?" Rolfo's shout managed to hit the bull's eye. The criminal was startled by it and half a dozen of armed men (probably criminals too) suddenly burst out the building to see what the hell was happening. He sprinted in the direction of the jerk and threw his pair of pruning shears at him. The gardening tool narrowly missed him - it crashed against the window instead (which, thank lord, did not shatter after the impact), but still made him leave. The stern face of Giorno Giovanna soon appeared, his head comically peaking out the building.

The Big Boss frowned when he realized that five of his men were gathered outside, frantically looking for someone, and took a deep breath: "Did one of you just threw a rock at my window?" He sounded confused, and to his credit, that was quite understandable.

Rolfo felt all adrenaline leave him abruptly - he could feel on him the murderous glares of literal murderers, who would have probably murdered him on the spot were it not for the presence of their Big Boss. He had no choice but to come clean: "Uhh, I do believe it was my pruners, Signore. I apologize, I swear they weren't aimed at you. It was for that damn...- uhh, I mean, that employee of yours!"

The Don didn't seem the slightest taken aback by the choice of weapon. He ran a hand through his braided locked and motioned for the others to go.

"You're saying that someone was eavesdropping on me just now?"

Rolfo looked down for a moment before answering: "Uhh, probably? I mean, he was stomping on my rosebushes near your window, that's for sure. They're Blanche Moreau's you know? They took weeks to arrive from France, weeks to finally blossom in Italy's sunlight!"

The mafia boss frowned at that, and Rolfo just knew he understood how valuable these roses were. After all, the Don seemed to be pretty knowledgeable about plants and lots of stuff: rumors had it that they were going to name that new museum after him so...

Signore Giovanna looked behind him and seemed to be addressing someone in the room: "Make sure to find him."

Curiosity overcame his initial reserve: standing on tiptoe, the gardener finally peered at the window to see what was happening inside. The office seemed incredibly spacious and clean: a dark-haired man, behind the desk, was adjusting the position of his cap on his head.

"Kay, I'll climb down the window to catch him faster! The fucker must be hiding somewhere close!," as soon as the man finished speaking, Rolfo couldn't help but react straight away.

"No, you can't do that! You'll ruin the other bushes!"

Both mafiosi looked at him for a moment and the old gardener realized he might have spoken out of turn, but the Don settled the matter for them anyway:

"He's right, I do like these Blanche Moreau's: go around my office Mista. And please, your zipper." That last part had been uttered quietly, but Rolfo had still managed to pick up on it. His devout Catholic mind would probably have been offended by it were it not for the sudden realization which left him quivering.

How on earth was he able to peak so clearly at the window now...?

"That fucking son of a bitch!", at that the mafia boss frowned and looked at him quizzically, but Rolfo couldn't halt the stream of profanities coming out of his mouth. It was too late. "He chopped it off! The whole branch!! It's all gone!"

Rolfo had promised his wife he would never get too close to the mafia, even though those paychecks sure were quite weighty. And yet as he was now, comfortably sitting in a well-made leather seat, a cup of coffee in his hand, he thought that for a first time within the shady building he had tried to avoid entering for so long, things were actually looking pretty normal. A week had passed since the unfortunate roses incident, and he had been surprised to receive after a subsequent sick leave a call from the Don's office. He didn't really have much choice, so he had shown up on time and was now patiently waiting in the lobby.

"Don Giovanna will now receive you."

Rolfo followed without a word the pretty secretary - she too looked way too customarily pretty to be involved in that kind of business. It was only when he passed under the massive arch of the door that he became fully aware of what was happening: the head of the Italian mafia had summoned him here.

As expected, it was the Don's spacious office, the one he had managed to catch a glimpse of through the window free of rose branches. The room appeared to be spotlessly clean - hell, it even smelled like a mixture of disinfectant and fresh lemon. Definitely not what he was expecting it to look like. Oddly enough, the very first thing he noticed was the tarp on the floor: that gaudy blue plastic was seriously clashing with the rest of the pristine white furnishings.

"Good afternoon, Signore Giardino. Is that the man you spotted by my window the other day?," Rolfo met the gaze of the mafia boss who was calmly standing to what soon turned out to be a man in bad shape, feet and fists bound onto the chair.

On the other side of the suspect, nonchalantly propped against the desk, was the gangster who had wanted to hop out the window.

All three of them were looking at the gardener expectantly, and he heard behind him the sound of the door closing. Of course, the pretty secretary couldn't stay.

"I can't say for sure Signore. See, I was so focused on the combat boots trampling my bushes that I didn't pay too much attention to his face..."

He hated the bastard who had wrecked his work, sure, but to rush him to such a tragic fate...

"Cool, then check it out!," the underboss had spoken with a casualness contrasting with the cruelty of the angle in which he twisted the poor man's leg. Rolfo had no choice but to look at the sole of his boot.

...

The fucking bastard.

There were still manure and rose petals stuck to it. And those were no common rose petals - they were large, fluffy and creamy white. They had been violently snatched away from a Blanche Moreau's sepal.

The gardener hardly needed to speak up to convince the mafia boss - the lethal look he was giving the tied-up man was already enough evidence.

Umberto Tradduto's fate had just been sealed.

Rolfo couldn't say what prompted him to look outside, but after that he only overheard bits of the conversation whispered in front of him: what was he was seeing right now was far more chocking anyway:

"I leave it to you for now Mista. I'll dispose of him later."

"Another donation to the museum?"

"Not this time. I think he'll make a fine aphid instead, that way our gardener will be able to settle his score with him."

Rolfo wasn't even pretending to be listening to what was being said anymore. He couldn't believe his eyes. He took a step towards the window and the two mafiosi, deep in their discussion, didn't notice it immediately.

"Keep your evening free, we'll be paying a visit to the mayor tonight. I'm getting tired of the spies he keeps sending here."

"Tonight? Hey, do you know how much it cost me to book the entire restaurant?"

The Don cleared his throat as if suddenly reminded of the other two's presence: "The sooner the better. I'm sure she won't mind. You'll reschedule your date later."

Mista was about to protest, but he fell silent as he realized where the gardener was standing: "Hey man, what the...-"

But Rolfo overstepped his role again to cut him off. His eyes shining with emotion, he turned towards the mighty Giorno Giovanna and addressed him as if he was a true deity.

"How...- How did you...? This is prodigious Signore!"

Behind him, blocking the light from the window, were proudly standing three beautiful unscathed roses branches.

━━━━━ ༻ 🚗 ༺ ━━━━━

Alfredo waked up completely startled as he heard someone bang on his window: dozing off at the wheel was a rookie mistake, he was well aware of that - but still.

"Hey open up!"

The underboss' voice was agitated - something very rare for such an easy-going man, so Alfredo immediately unlocked the doors and got out of the vehicle to assist him. Mista was backing up the big boss, a hand wrapped under his shoulders to help him stand.

The driver shot a panicked look at the small cottage they had just come from: what the hell had just happened in there?

Alfredo glanced at the Don's patent leather shoes - he was dressed as reverently as usual - and then at the underboss' worn-out leather jacket: even though they were clothed as if they were going to very different events, they had asked him to drop them at the same address: the mayor's private country hous. He had followed the itinerary scribbled on the paper an informer had given him a few hours before. It was the driver's special talent: being resourceful. Even without a precise address, he always knew how to bring his customers to the desired place.

His clients never asked him how it worked, and in return, he never made any remark on the state they would return to the car in. Or to question why they seemed so keen to surprise the mayor at such a late hour of the evening.

Alfredo was even willing to give an extra hand if needed, occasionally overstepping his role of a simple driver if the client was likely to be a good tipper.

He opened the passenger door for the mafia boss, but to his great surprise the latter stopped him right there:

"I'm fine. Just open the trunk instead."

Alfredo tensed up but said nothing as he went back to his seat to retrieve his leather gloves.

It was another kind of extra service: helping them to get rid of incriminating clues. Well, it wouldn't be the first body dumped in the back of his precious vehicle, and certainly not the last. As long as they would pay for the subsequential cleanup, he didn't mind.

"How many bottles have you stolen?," The underboss had ushered that question to the boss not discreetly enough, and the driver allowed himself a relieved sigh.

No bodies on the horizon, then?

No scandal of the mayor's disappearance making the headlines on the next day?

Great, he'd be able to go back to bed sooner.

As he passed next to the two mafiosi to open the trunk, Alfredo noticed the two bottles of prestigious champagne that the Don was clutching tightly against his. chest. Oh wow. The underboss, on the other hand, was eyeing Giorno with a bewildered look, as if it had just occurred to him that the mysterious gigantic box he had been forced to carry from the cottage contained more bottles.

"Guido please, go fetch me a last one," the Don was less assertive than usual - you could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

Alfredo awkwardly stood next to them in silence as he waited for his next instructions. Charcoal and emerald eyes were engaged in a long, fierce battle of dominance, neither of them breaking contact. Hell, it even seemed to Alfredo at some point that the Don fluttered his lashes - but that could also be exhaustion talking.

Years of working within that specific industry had taught Alfredo how they would inevitably settle that growing tension between them.

Once again, for as long as they would pay for the subsequential seats cleaning, he didn't care. It wouldn't be the first indecent make-out session to happen at the back of his precious vehicle, and probably not the last.

A partition wall was always between Alfredo and his clients. Until now, he had never managed to catch them red-handed, but he had heard of those rumors. And he, better than anyone else certainly, knew for a fact that the Don had never sought to have good company brought to him. He'd always travel to his secondary residence alone while the underboss was the kind of man who preferred to drive there by himself.

Apart from the occasional names slips, he had never witnessed any tender gesture, he had never overheard anything remotely ambiguous. The details that had tipped him off were more subtle, or well usually at least they were. They would simply sit a little too close to one another, with no free seat between them - the pair was never five feet apart so that to speak. But right now, unless he would turn off the parking lights, there was no way Alfredo could pretend he wasn't seeing the Don's right hand slowly lowering far too low along the other's back. It was clearly no longer a question of keeping his balance.

"Fine," the Don let out a dramatic sigh and the driver nearly said hallelujah - now that he had admitted defeat, they would be able to leave at last! "If you won't do it, then fine I'll ask our driver instead."

Holy shit, what the hell was going on that night?

Alfredo quietly took a step back to exit the scene but it was too late - both mafiosi were already looking at him. If they were seriously intending on making him break into the mayor's house, he sure hoped they were ready to give a real good tip.

Fortunately, the underboss shook his head and rolled his eyes (had they just swapped personalities?), before reluctantly talking: "'kay you win I'll go. But then, we're outta here." Mista put the box inside the trunk and headed back to the cottage, leaving the driver in the company of the big boss who didn't seem quite inclined to enter the car yet. So Alfredo had no choice but to stay with him outside, on the chilly night and very awkward silence.

It was only after the third hiccup of the Don that the realization came down to him: he wasn't injured by any means, he was just completely drunk.

"Umm," Alfredo knew he wasn't supposed to question his boss, but the silence between them was becoming seriously uncomfortable. "So were you celebrating something Signore?"

The mafia boss looked at him for a long moment - god, the poor driver sure hoped he hadn't made a mistake, before shrugging: "Not really. I simply like Champagne, especially when I'm not the one paying for it."

Who could have thought that someone who spent so much on luxury clothes could be stingy?

Alfredo decided to politely answer. "Yes, I've heard you own several vineyards in Europe Signore. It's clever, I'm sure you never run out it..."

At that, the mighty Giorno Giovanna ungraciously hiccuped again, and the driver had the decency to pretend not to notice it.

"Mhhh.. You don't get it," had the mafia boss just snorted in contempt? "It's not so much about the Champagne itself as it is about the pure satisfaction of having taken possession of it... The mere contentment in knowing that the stupid mayor will never be able to savor it now that it's mine, you know?"

No, of course, not. There was no way Alfredo could possibly relate to that: it must be one of those crazy rich people whims.

Not that he could say it out loud, of course. The night was getting colder and colder, so he hoped the underboss wouldn't take long to be back.

"Would you like a bottle?," the Don's question took him by surprise so the driver, out of reflex, shook his head.

"Good, or you would have had to convince Mista to go back."

The stingy rich bastard.

Alfredo couldn't believe he was thinking that of him, in any other situation he would never have allowed himself to think that of Giorno Giovanna, but there were at least eight bottles in the trunk, he had seen them. And the Don knew that.

Fortunately, the underboss chose that exact moment to reappear and slam the trunk door shut after charging it with two other bottles.

Discreet much?

But whatever, the Don seemed rather pleased with that and finally agreed to go inside the car - his customers' satisfaction was what mattered the most to Alfredo.

After all, with good service came good tippers.

And that night, in exchange for the obvious promise to keep his mouth shut about what he had witnessed, the underboss sure went overboard with the tip.

━━━━━ ༻ 🧹 ༺ ━━━━━

It was now 8:20 a.m.: even though the day had started way earlier for Agnese, she had had to wait for the mobsters living upstairs to rise and shine, so she could proceed to clean their rooms. It was by far the task she hated the most: grabbing her heavy cleaning cart, she pushed it towards what had to be the cleanest place of them all. The Don's private quarters, starting with his excessively large bathroom: since the fancy tiles there took the longest to dry, she would then continue with his connected bedroom.

However, as soon as she stepped foot inside, Agnese almost fainted at the horrible sight that met her eyes.

Clothes, confetti and popped balloons were scattered everywhere, pieces of glass were covering the soaked floor, and an astronomical amount of what furiously smelled like Champagne had been dumped into the bathtub, splattering the walls and the carpet- hell, it even seemed like some of it was still fizzing inside.

Up until now, she had thought that she had seen it all, that nothing that the most wicked mind was capable of, could possibly surprise her. But that was a whole new level of a mess.

Thankfully, the inscription on a balloon (the survivor, the only one that had not exploded yet) was what prompted her not to hand the culprit her immediate resignation letter.

The Don's birthday would only happen once a year.

And with some sheer luck, she'd be able to negotiate her well-deserved retirement before the next one.

That morning, Guido woke up because of a cuss word that reminded him very much of his native Italian countryside. He had no idea what time it was: Giorno's expensive alarm clock having been inadvertently smashed the night before. He yawned gleefully and stretched out his arms before turning to face the lumpy shape beside him.

The mighty Giorno Giovanna, drool on his chin, was muffled in his blanket, and it didn't seem from the look of it that he'd be getting up any time soon.

He was probably dealing with a hell of a hangover right now - served him right for the astronomical quantity of Champagne in which he had literally bathed and drowned. Giorno would decidedly never learn from his past mistakes. Well, he was very much looking forward to taunting his lover for years about that unfortunate late birthday episode.

There was no way the mafia boss would be able to conduct his meetings of the day - changing the planning wasn't something to worry about even though it would piss the hell out of Fugo for sure. Feeling compassionate about what was awaiting Giorno, he gently patted what he thought was his head (?) and smiled as he heard him grumble in return. How cute.

Guido finally stood up to start his day, he would smuggle him some Ibuproben later but first thing first, his much-awaited morning tinkle. And a long hot shower. Yeah, that way he would perhaps find a ploy to avoid dealing with Giorno's responsibilities instead of him. While he was not hungover, the late night's events had completely drained him of his energy.

Giorno's bathroom truly was something: it was way more spacious and tidier than his own. To him, it was a literal spa: cool extra-powerful water jets, a gigantic glass shower cabin AND a massive marble bathtub, a myriad of bottles of heavenly-smelling shampoo, conditioners, shower gels and body lotions everywhere - hell, there was even a housekeeper politely handing him a towel.

...

Holy shit.

Trying his best to cover his naked glory, Guido Mista could only stutter pitifully:

"Uhh.. Yeah, so about that new raise of yours we were discussin' the other day..."

This would only be the fourth time of the year, so at this point...

#giomis #misgio #misgio fanfic #giomis fanfic #misgio fic #giomis fic #giomis fanfiction #misgio fanfiction #giorno x mista #mista x giorno #one shot #giomis oneshot

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catatonicatnap · 4 years ago

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I'm still standing and still going and it looks like it's only uphill from here! I didn't even miss a month this year! That's already better than I thought I would! Full summary under the cut!

January. I had a bit of a struggle on subjects of drawing around this time. Ace Attorney hyperfocus was still in full swing, and while doodling Trucy during a software test of Pencil2D, I suddenly realized that I'd been drawing Trucy when I couldn't think of anything to draw for ages already. Daily character blogs were already blogs I greatly admired, and I decided that I might as well put my obsession with drawing Trucy to good use. (Check out @daily-trucy!) February. I continued Trucy while figuring out online learning. I don't have much to add here. March. More Trucy. April. My memory gets a little fuzzy, but I think around the first week of this month was when spring break began, and physical schooling ended indefinitely. May. I don't remember much of May. I think it was alright? I seemed to be doing okay with daily-trucy, at least. June. Most of this month was Artfight prep. July. ArtFight popped in! I made a grand total of two attacks this year, beating my previous record of one! August. Definitely my most prolific month in terms of art that was not Trucy, with at least three finished pieces (possibly more, if I can find them). This was mainly due to me applying for a zine on Twitter. The zine, sadly, never started, and applications were never responded to (which is understandable, I guess). But I liked the pieces! September. As usual, August and September were my best months. Probably because of the free time. October. At this point I finally listened to my friends' adamant recommendations that I watch JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. And... oh, dear Lord, I'm done for, it was actually interesting and actually funny, I'm never going to hear the end of it. I couldn't bear to go back to Trucy, not yet, not with how badly I'd failed the blog with finals, but JoJo was something that started featuring more and more in my doodles. It was fun. The characters in Stardust Crusaders, especially, reminded me of the dynamic I'd had with my friends before quarantine. It was kind of... calming. I didn't expect that from a show about beating up vampires with magic sunlight and ghosts you can summon with your mind. Who would??? November. Distance learning was not good to me, and I'd known that, but this was the point that it started hitting home. It's one thing to know the plane is nosediving, but it's quite another to see the ground rushing towards you at the speed of light. I threw my tablet to the side and only picked it up to doodle as a stress relief, pulling from the JoJo doodles from before. This was possibly the most stressful month of my life, and while I got a lot of schoolwork done, it's only thanks to those stress-relief doodles that I have anything to post at all. I am never doing that again if I can help it. December. With finals fast approaching, my grades becoming set, and free time practically nonexistent, I needed a quick way of entertainment that didn't take too long. Books would get me too engrossed, TV took too much time to watch, and I didn't really have the energy to read or watch anything with loose ends, anyways, so I started bingereading finished webcomics and webtoons. It's at this point that I found a comic called Sword Interval, by Benjamin Fleuter, which had recently concluded. Sword Interval has a coloring and lining style that's scarily close to what I've been trying to emulate (i.e. no painting if I can help it, and a blend of linework and cell-shaded color). But more importantly, the artist made two coloring tutorials (first one here, second one here!). Sword Interval's shading works by reversing my usual shading process, and erasing shadow to create light, rather than adding shadow to create light. This was an immediate improvement and so much easier for me. For the majority of December, my tablet lay to the side, disregarded. But for the two finished pieces I posted, the immediate difference in the shading made my artstyle look even better. I think this is definitely a method I'll continue to use in the future.

#summary of art #summary of art 2020 #catnap's creations (everything tag)#cat chats

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blindrapture · 5 years ago

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I probably find this way cooler than it really is, but look, James Joyce doodled Leopold Bloom at some point!!! He wrote next to it in the original Greek, "Tell me, Muse, of that manyminded man, who wandered far and wide."

I’ll also take this time to share some stuff about Bloom. For purposes of relative convenience: The “present day” in Ulysses is June 16/17, 1904.

General Bloom Information: - His father was Rudolf Virag, Jewish, from Szombathely, Hungary. Virag had spent the 1850s/60s migrating westward and finally settled in Dublin shortly before his son’s birth. Leopold’s earliest memory of his father is of hearing the story of this migration, following the path on a map. Vienna, Budapest, Milan, Florence, London, Dublin. give or take. (Rudolf’s father was Lipoti Virag-- Leopold’s namesake.) - His mother was Ellen Higgins, Irish Protestant, daughter of another Hungarian Jew by the name of Julius Karoly who migrated to Dublin and married Irish-- Fanny Hegarty was the name of Leopold’s maternal grandmother. they took on the name Higgins in lieu of the more foreign-sounding Karoly, and speaking of... - Shortly after Rudolf Virag married Ellen, he changed his name to Rudolph Bloom. “Virag” means “flower,” that’s where the name came from. He also converted to Protestantism, though there’s some heavy implications that the Society for Converting Jews had coerced him with food. And it’s around this point that his son was born.

Leopold’s Life: - Full name Leopold Paula Bloom. Born in Clanbrassil Street, Portobello, Dublin, in 1866. - Leopold attended the Erasmus Smith High School until he was 16, where he got an interest in the sciences and developed his distaste with the Protestant Church (who funded the high school). He also dressed as a woman for a school play, and that may have sparked a long-standing deep affinity in him wherein he imagines what it’s like to be a woman, in contentment. - He spent some years working for the family business as a commercial traveller, walking about with orderbook. I couldn’t tell you specifically what it is they sold, though I feel like that information is in the book somewhere. At some point, the family also had some sort of significant ownership of a hotel. - Mother Ellen died of illness in 1886, and father Rudolph poisoned himself out of heartbreak a week later in the hotel, leaving a letter for his just-barely-adult son. - Leopold met Spanish-Irish singer Marion “Molly” Tweedy at... a place and time I honestly can’t tell you right this minute (but is probably in the book somewhere). At the time, Molly was big on the poetry of Lord Byron, and she thought Leopold bore a striking resemblance to the poet. He tried writing a poem for her, it was really silly and not very good. But they remained in each other’s social circles, Leopold charmed the hell out of her, they fell in love and got married in 1888. - Their first child, daughter Millicent (”Milly”), was born in 1889. On June 16, 1904, she is fifteen years old and away at Mullingar to study and work in the photography business. - Their second child, son Rudolph (”Rudy”), was born in December 1893, and died eleven days later in January 1894. Leopold and Molly ceased having sexual intercourse after this, indicative of a powerful grief which, by the “present day,” has lasted ten and a half years. - With Molly, Leopold has lived in a few spots across Dublin. During 1893-94, they stayed in the City Arms Hotel, as it was nearby to the cattlemarket, where Leopold worked for a Mr. Joseph Cuffe as a clerk (until he was fired because he kept giving opinions on civic development, whereupon he sent Molly to go and try and seduce him to get the job back. that did not work). The cattlemarket job comes up a lot in Bloom’s thoughts. It had a slaughterhouse on-site, which he detested. - At.. some point (???) after this, the family moved into the middle-class neighbourhood of Eccles Street, into house number 7. It is there that they remain by the “present day.” - Bloom has a library of something like 23 books at home (none of which I, Jordan, have read). They range from travelogues (In the Track of the Sun: Readings from the Diary of a Globe Trotter) to history books (History of the Russo-Turkish War) to practical (Thom’s Dublin Post Office Directory, 1886) to trite (Physical Strength and How to Obtain It) and scientific (A Handbook of Astronomy). - His wife, on the other hand, reads steamy sexy romance stories and pulp fiction, which Bloom frequently picks up for her on the cheap. With titles like Ruby: the Pride of the Ring, Fair Tyrants, and The Sweets of Sin, Molly flips through these within a couple days and judges them based on whether or not there’s any smut in it. The Sweets of Sin, in particular, is one name to keep track of if you decide to read Ulysses. - But most of Leopold’s critical reading comes with the newspaper-- he has an eye for advertisements and Opinions about how good or bad different ads are (Potted meat? Advertised just above the list of deaths? How tasteless!). By the time of the “present,” he’s got a job working for the Freeman’s Journal and National Press as an ad canvasser, so he needs to work with clients in representing their businesses with good ad design. - The household is economically secure for its time. Bloom has enough in savings. (This one is meant to be figured out by the reader, but uh, price inflation and changing of currencies and living standards has fogged it a bit.) - In the “present day,” Bloom is 39 years old, and five foot nine, and of slightly above-average physical build (even if he doesn’t think it).

I’ve been contemplating what else, exactly, to include here ever since I started making this post. There’s really many entries I could make. But I think a lot of them fall closer to legit Themes which the book deals with, and I think I’ll leave this post general. There are details about Leopold, after all, which are better off uncovered by the reader more gradually, allowed to evolve in a contrapuntal puzzling tension, allowed to be Figured Out. The Plots and Subplots, you could say.

But Bloom. Bloom endures. He is a character I cannot forget. Not everything about him is given to us; his life story is “spotty” in parts if you try to put it all down in black-and-white, but what is there is given with such precision and integrated with such... structure that I do think is comparable with ancient epic poetry.

..and, hey, if you do read Ulysses and don’t want to have to rely on my own spotty commentary, this website can help you with context.

#ulysses #maybe next time i'll make a post about the various characters who come from joyce's dubliners book #not only is ulysses technically a sequel to portrait of the artist as a young man #but it's deeply connected with every joyce book!#joyce's books were all in the same canon!#which sounds a bit silly because they were *meant* to be like real life and all #but no they're still fundamentally fictional. the seams are still there. there's still a man behind the curtain.#and that man behind the curtain still went and tied all his books together. went and wove a tapestry of canon.#that's all for now. i'm gonna pass out.

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md3artjournal · 6 years ago

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Art Summary for 2018.

I think I've decided on the representatives for May, June, and August.

Even though "A Study in Silver"-mer-Akira was technically well done for me and still looked good as a tiny thumbnail, the more I looked at it, the more suspicious his surprised expression looked. And I wanted to remember that month happily. After all, I accomplished so many drawings done for Mer May, and ended up doing a little series of mer-Ryuji and mer-Akira exploring or hanging out together; that was fun. I wanted to remember that more than see an example of my improved drawing of object volume and hair.

But actually, my mer-AkiRyu exploring around an anchor ALSO showed an improvement in my drawing. Their anatomy, volume, and hair was all good. It was just that anchor and chain that were weird. And as a thumbnail, the drawing was too tiny to show all the details, demonstrating my improvements. But still, I really liked the happy atmosphere in that drawing.

Much more than my mer-AkiRyu trapped in a fishing net. That drawing also showed improvement in my anatomy, volume, and hair, even if some of the anatomy was a little wierd and (once again!) Akira's pose was stiff. But mer-AkiRyu were annoyed with each other, and I'd much prefer a happy atmosphere, even if that drawing was just the right size to show all its details even when shrunken into a small thumbnail.

So I decided on mer-AkiRyu exploring around an anchor as my representative for MerMay.

As for June, I knew that my Kaijune ladybug demonstrated a proper sketch of human anatomy (which I'm usually bad at) and creative modification (into an uncanny creature). But it just wasn't as pretty as the brumation whale. Still, the more I looked at the brumation whale, the only thing it proved was a return to watercolors. The whale drawing itself was just a simple doodle with no skill improvements. Which is the same that could be said of my Axel&Kairi one-panel comic. It was fun, and at the time, I was impressed with myself for finally being able to immediately and quickly express myself through drawing, without much struggle. But technically, it's not very good. So even if my ladybug monster wasn't very pretty, it proved improvement in my drawing skill, which I had seen people define as the point of the Art Summary retrospective.

As for my August representative...

I was so sure my giant komodo dragon in a pine forest (against a tiny knight) would be the final. I was so proud of it, when I first drew it for Smaugust, that I actually posted it to Facebook---and I practically never have the confidence to post my drawings to Facebook! I always liked how that drawing had turned out. But the more I stared at it, I realized it only looked good because I had realistically sketched a komodo dragon photo for reference. The pine trees and tiny knight were just simple scribbles. The only thing that giant komodo dragon drawing proved was that I can realistically copy animal photos...which is something I already knew AND already had several examples of in other months.

The same could be said of my gharail-duck/feathered-dragon drawing. I took a LOT more time and effort to draw it, and even put more effort into attempting to return to watercolors through it. But in the end, all it proves is that I can realistically copy anime photos, add some modifications, and can pick up a paintbrush again. It was technically my best work in August, but actually didn't prove much.

On the other hand, my fantasy drawing of dragon-lord-Ryuji and demon-Akira had tons of technical problems. First of all, Akira's pose ended up so stiff that I was actually mostly ashamed of this drawing. But I really liked how Ryuji turned out. His pose seemed so natural, and the anatomy, object volume, and character/face/head portrayals that usually allude me, were actually pretty good in this drawing. The same could partially be said for Akira, except that his pose was just SO INCREDIBLY STIFF! ;o; On the other hand, this drawing demonstrated a lot of expanding beyond my comfort zones. I mixed mediums: Copic on the characters, watercolor paints for the backgrounds, and colorful Zig Kuretake Brushables pens as the preliminary figure sketches (an attempt at colorful linework that ended up mostly covered by my usual black linework anyway ~.~; ). But if Art Summaries are supposed to commemorate skill improvement, I thought all the experimentation that went into this drawing, counted for a lot. ...Plus, I like AkiRyu. ^.~

I had some double-guesses about other months.

Possibly replacing April's Xion with Persona 5 polymer clay charms, but Xion was definitely an example of more effort and more improvement.

Possibly replacing September with better chibis or non-dog/cat AkiRyu chibis, but I did a whole series of dog/cat-AkiRyu that I wanted to commemorate and I was kind of impressed how much my horrible chibis had improved during OTPtember.

I had an original, metaphorical drawing about "introspection" during October, but that realistic tiger's intense stare just won out, despite being my typical Inktober fare.

December isn't over yet, and I feel my "Waiting for Ryuji" figure photo series had some cuter entries this month (and last month). But "Day 150" showed off the miniature invitation that I put effort into sculpting that tiny seal for. Kirby was included, to add his cute, though not as cute as when he was floating with his mouth open, to deliver the invitation letter to Joker (as in "Day 148"). Still, I chose "Day 150" because it not only included a dialogue bubble, to demonstrate how this photo series also occaisionally requires some Photoshop effort, but also because this alternate version of "Day 150" includes a photo of Figma Ryuji, who is the entire point of this photo series.

Ok. I think I've convinced myself to be confident in my choices.

Still, I don't think my did very well this year. Which is weird for me to say, when I accomplished so many daily/monthly drawing challenges this year and defeated a couple of new and difficult sculpting projects. It wasn't such a bad year. But maybe it's just my depression wanting me to look over this retrospective and still say my skills just slid down the drain. ~__~;

#art summary 2018 #sketches #fan-art #figure photography #polymer clay #crafting #meme

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cattstarr · 4 years ago

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One hunnit questions because I am bored

Time Started: 3:10PM Date: 2/3/2021

1) First Name Spelled Backwards: latsyrC

2) Middle Name Spelled Backwards: ellehcoR

3) Last Name Spelled Backwards: nospmohT

4) Your Half-Birthday: 6/3/87

5) What type of milk do you drink? I prefer Almond but when I can’t afford it, 2%.

6) What is the most sentimental thing you own? My Octopus Elephant.

7) Have any imaginary friends? Do OCs count?

8 ) When was the last time you brushed your teeth? Sometime last night.

9) Do you listen to Christmas music in July? No.

10) What is the first thing that comes to mind when I say January?: My birthday.

11) May?: Ugh, summer is right around the corner.

12) November?: Fall.

13) July?: Miserable summer heat causing sensory issues. 14) April?: Easter and rain.

15) February?: Adorable Valentine’s aesthetic.

16) October?: Nothing.

17) August?: Dreadful summer weather.

18 ) March?: Alcoholism.

19) December?: Xmas music.

20) June?: Sensory issues.

21) September? Relief from Summer.

21) What color is your blanket? Pink with Hello Kitty on it.

22) What was the last movie you bought? I don’t buy movies but Flickie bought the Harry Potter series.

23) Last CD you bought? Fear Inoculum.

24) What radio station do you listen to? Pandora.

25) Are you the only child, oldest child, middle child, or youngest child? I’m the middle kid.

26) If you do have brother(s) or sister(s) put them in alphabetical order, including yourself: Younger sister, self, Older half-brother.

27) Do you have anything on your bedroom walls? Not yet.

28 ) How many windows in your home? 3

29) How many pairs of shoes do you own? 3

30) What’s the weirdest song title you’ve ever heard of? Vagina Mine 31) What’s the worst movie you’ve ever seen? Oh god there’s so many.

32) Whats the worst CD you’ve ever listened to? Oh god there’s so many.

33) What US State would you NEVER want to visit? Uhhhhhmmmmmmmm Nebraska. No reason, there’s just nothing there for me.

34) What country would you NEVER want to visit? Uhhhhmmmmmmmmm Taiwan.

35) What is your least favorite color? Beige.

36) What is your favorite flavor Fanta (the soda)? I dunno. Never had a Fanta.

37) Do you have any scars? If so, tell me about them….: I have a lot of scars. The ones on my right wrist are suicide attempts and the ones off of my write shoulder are an assault.

38) Do you know anybody in the Army, Navy, Marines, or any other group (currently or a Veteran)? No.

39) What color goes good with blue? White or black.

40) Green? Yellow

41) Grey? Pink or teal. 42) Orange? Pink

43) Red? White or black.

44) Yellow? Black, white or green.

45) Purple? Cyan, teal, white, gray or black.

46) What is your favorite character in ‘Harry Potter’? Sirius.

47) 'Lord Of The Rings’? I never got into that.

48)'Grease’? Never watched it.

49) Have you ever seen 'Life Is Beautiful’? No.

50) What about 'Monsters Inc.’? Yes.

51) Do you like Scooby Doo? Eh.

52) Describe your perfect place to live (imaginary or not): I dunno actually. As long as all my stuff is there.

53) Does your back hurt? Not really.

54) Do you collect anything? If so, what? Tool/APC/Puscifer/Maynard stuff.

55) Have you ever been to camp? Which camp? Church Camp... Dx

56) Do you have a car? If yes, do you call it anything? If so what? No, I don’t drive.

57) If you don’t have a car, would you name it? If so, what? Kitty.

58 ) What is your perfect car? *shrug* A nice, functioning one?

59) What family member are you closest to? We’re all estranged.

60) What family member do you wish you were closer to? I used to be close with my sister but I’m conflicted about wanting to be her friend again? I guess in one breathe we had lots of fun, but in another she’s very entitled and gets mad when you try to tell her anything she doesn’t want to hear sooooo...

61) Do you consider pets as family? They are family.

62) Do you look at a calendar daily? No. 63) What is your least favorite holiday? Xmas

64) Make up your own quote: I can’t.

64) Do you like getting air-mail? I don’t know what that is.

65) Would you ever go on a cruise? I’d like to but I get anxiety about that stuff.

66) How many phones do you have in your home? 2 mobile phones.

67) Do you own or wear a watch? No.

68) Do you wear any jewelry? I have an APC necklace but I don’t wear it much since I can’t wear it to work and I don’t go anywhere.

69) Where do you wish you were right now? I’m good with being at home.

70) With whom? My husband and cats.

71) Doing what? This.

72) Have you ever had a sepia photo taken of you?: Yes.

73) What is your least favorite WB movie? I don’t feel like thinking about which movies are WB movies or looking them up. 74) Do you own any hats? Is yes, what kinds? A Mariachi hat I never wear since it’s novel.

75) Do you own anything that is older than you? Uh... I don’t believe so.

76) How many hours of sleep did you get last night? 8 77) Have you ever seen snow? Yes. 78 ) Have you ever won a ribbon? Yes.

79) Do you save old birthday/Christmas/whatever cards given to you? Used to. Felt stupid.

80) How many clocks are in your home? One.

81) Ever been to Disneyland? …or Disneyworld? No.

82) Ever been to Universal Studios? No

83) Ever seen the cockpit of an airplane? Just the small Cessnas.

84) Ever made a movie? No.

85) Geometry or Algebra? Algebra.

86) Poems or short stories? Short stories.

87) AIM or MSN? AIMy.

88) MSN or Yahoo? I clicked both but neither stuck.

89) AIM or Yahoo? AIM.

90) Windows or MAC? Ew Mac.

91) What is your least favorite number? Anything not prime.

92) What was the last thing you said? “My head hurts.”

93) What are you sitting on? Couch.

94) Have you been outside today? No.

95) What have you done today? Played Katamari, ate, doodled a bit, blogged, scrolled FB, found this thingie, watched Bojack... and I think that’s it. 96) Do you like apple or orange juice? OJ

97) Do you like cats or dogs more? Kitters.

98) What is your most favorite reptile? Iguana

99) Would you rather fish or hunt? Fish, but neither are appealing.

100) Are you sleepy? Neutral

Time Ended: 3:30PM

#question thingie

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hannahindie · 7 years ago

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Dean vs. The Mothman

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader, The Mothman Word Count: 4,531 (Whoopsy doodles!) Warnings: Canon violence, language, sassy reader, and a date gone horribly wrong. A/N: I wrote this for two separate challenges. The first is for @waywardmoeyy and Moeyy’s Awkward Moments Birthday Challenge. My prompt is bolded in the fic below! The second was for @uniquewerewolfsuit’s Mythical Creatures Challenge. I had a blast writing it, and my words got slightly carried away. I really hope you all enjoy it as much I enjoyed writing it. However, I couldn’t have done it without my wonderful betas...

@trexrambling: “I was just hit with the memory of me making a lake of BBQ sauce on my plate and now I'm just sitting here giggling to myself hahaha” (I had to include this because this very incident is the reason I thought to put it in this fic. My ode to my sweet waterbear and her giant lake of barbecue sauce)

@pinknerdpanda: “Eek!!! Anxiety extreme” (Also, you can thank her for the song choice, because it fit perfectly and I love it. She’s my twin.)

As always, tags are at the bottom. If you’d like to be added, please send an ask or an IM. :)

The first thing you need to know is that grenade launchers are freaking awesome. The second thing you need to know is that they are also very loud, and a little more...explode-y than you would expect. The reason I say this is because I'm currently sitting on my ass, choking on concrete dust, and hoping to God I didn't just kill the two random dudes that had, for some reason, appeared in the middle of the bunker I had set my sights on. My eyes are on the slowly settling dust cloud, grenade launcher across my lap, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see two shadowy figures emerge from the rubble.

“Oh shit, I thought I killed you.” I stand up and take a better look at the two men brushing debris off their shoulders and out of their hair. The shorter of the two squints through the dust, and the initial glare turns into a look of awe when he realizes what I'm holding.

“Is that...is that a grenade launcher?”

His voice is deep and gravelly, and it does things to me. I remind myself to keep that in mind for later, when I'm not trying to save a town from utter destruction.

The giant next to him rolls his eyes, “Don't even think about it.”

The shorter one grins, and even from here I can see the sparkle in his eyes. I like this one. “I’m both jealous and a little turned on right now.”

“Dean!” Sasquatch hisses, and I can't help but notice the dimples that form even when he's frowning. Good Lord, where did these men come from? Whatever they put in their water, they should probably keep drinking it.

“Well, you're a man after my own heart. I've been wanting to use this thing for a long time, but I was hoping it would be a little more successful. Sorry I almost blew you up.” I'm pretty sure I just shouted that. Am I shouting? I told you, grenade launchers are loud.

They walk closer to me, and the shorter one holds out his hand. I realize that the ‘shorter one’ is...not so short. Seriously, where are they from? “The name’s Dean. This is my brother Sam.”

I look from one to the other, and I can tell my mouth is hanging wide open. They can't possibly be who I think they are. “Winchester? Sam and Dean Winchester?” They look at each other in confusion, but I can't understand why. Surely they know that they're legends? Right?

“Yea...how do you know?” Dean asks, and he truly doesn't seem to know. They have no idea. Oh, bless ‘em.

“You guys are legendary. I mean, I figured ya’ll were real and not just some sort of fish tale, but to see you in person...holy shit.” I sling the grenade launcher over my shoulder and rest my free hand on my hip. “I'm glad I didn't blow you up. Although, knowing who you are, I'm guessing it wouldn't stick, huh?”

Sam laughs, “Hopefully not. So, I'm guessing you're a hunter too, then?”

I nod, “I try to be. I do okay… Luckily, this is the first time I've nearly blown someone up, so I guess I'm doing something right.”

Dean looks back over his shoulder at what's left of the old bunker I just demolished, “What are those, anyway? I've never seen anything like it. They're everywhere.”

I grin. These boys have no idea what they're up against, do they?

“Ya’ll ever heard of Mothman?”

“What did you think you were hunting when you got here? Surely you noticed what this town is famous for?” I say around the mouthful of burger I just took. Dean's watching me with this look that's a combination of awe and appreciation. It's like he's never seen a girl put away a burger.

“Well, yea, but there's no lore, and no indication that he's back. You've got a festival honoring him! Nobody seems to mind it, and the disappearances don't really match up with what happened before.” Sam looks flustered, and I start to feel bad for picking at him. This is a weird situation, after all.

Dean stops staring at me long enough to look at Sam, “What are you going on about?”

I grab a handful of fries and carefully begin to dip them one by one into the pool of barbecue sauce on my plate, “He’s talking about the Mothman’s M.O. It's not really his thing to take people. He's more of a...well, a death omen. Or a warning of impending disaster.” Dean looks confused, and I raise an eyebrow at Sam, “Didn't you tell him anything about it?”

Sam frowns, “Yea, I did. He just didn't listen.”

“Yes, I did! There's this giant moth-”

“Dean, it's not a giant moth! It's a Mothman-”

“What's the difference, Sam? It's a giant thing with wings, and it's taking people-”

“There's a huge difference-”

I slam my hands on the table, and the suddenness of it interrupts their bickering. Out of all the stories I've heard about the Winchesters, their sibling squabbles had been left out. It’s cute, but we have work to do.

“We don't have time to argue about who's right. Dean, since you weren't listening to your brother, here's the rundown.”

Dean grins at Sam, “I like her.” Sam just rolls his eyes, and I sigh.

“Great. Keep it in your pants, Winchester. We’ll talk about our feelings later. Anyway, in November of 1966 there's a report that several men digging a grave in Clendenin, West Virginia, saw a man-like figure flying overhead. It's sometimes considered the first sighting of Mothman, but the one you hear about the most, the official first sighting, happened in the TNT area a few days later by young couples that went parking.”

“TNT area...that's where we were earlier. Wasn't that a munitions plant during World War Two?” Sam had apparently done some research.

“Yea. If you look close enough, you can see that those bunkers are spread out in a very specific pattern. They were built like that in case one of them exploded; it would keep the others from going up. They're mostly empty now, although I think the Reserves use them for storage on occasion.”

Dean reaches for a fry on my plate, and I smack his hand. He frowns, “So where's this giant moth fit in?”

“According to the two couples, they saw a ‘large flying man with ten foot wings’, and when their headlights hit him, his eyes glowed red. So Mothman, not just a moth. He was seen by a few other people in the area. There were a couple of volunteer firefighters that described it as a large bird with red eyes. Someone else described its eyes as looking like bicycle reflectors, and another man blamed the strange noises coming from his television and the disappearance of his dog on this Mothman. The sheriff and a wildlife biologist claimed that it was a type of local heron or crane that can grow to be almost the size of a man.”

Dean sits back and crosses his arms, his eyes occasionally drifting back to the fries I've got left. “So...that's it? I thought you said it was a death omen, or a harbinger of impending disaster. So far, he's just scared some kids necking where they weren't supposed to.”

“That's where the Silver Bridge comes in. In December of 1967, the Mothman was spotted near the bridge and, shortly after, the bridge collapsed. Forty-six people were killed when they went into the water. The Mothman wasn’t seen again, and the locals began connecting his appearance with the bridge collapse.” After grabbing a couple more fries from the plate, I shove the rest at Dean and he smiles happily.

“So, what do you think? Is it really the Mothman?” Sam asks, frowning at Dean as he shoves a handful of fries into his mouth.

“Initially, no. Honestly, I just thought it was a giant owl and that some kids afraid of getting in trouble just made something up. I've made fun of it for years...until I saw it a couple weeks ago. I just happened to be going through town when I saw it on the top of the old Historic State theater. A few days later, the first couple disappeared. A hiker found them in the wildlife area...or what you'd know as the TNT area.”

“How do you know it was the Mothman and not someone or something else?” Dean asks as he polishes off the rest of the fries faster than I've ever seen anyone eat before; it's my turn to look impressed. He winks at me, and I feel my cheeks flush. His charm was something I had been warned about.

“Because the couple was found twenty feet up a tree, with talon marks as big as a damn pterodactyl. It's the Mothman,” I grumble.

Dean wipes his hands off on a napkin and tosses it on the now empty plate, then leans back in the booth, “So what was your plan earlier? Was a grenade launcher really the best option?”

I roll my eyes, “Listen, it wasn't my first choice, despite my overwhelming need to blow something up. I'm the only hunter that stays in this general area most of the time, I had to improvise. But since that plan didn't work, we’re on to plan B.”

Dean cocks an eyebrow, “And what would that be, sweetheart?”

I wiggle my eyebrows, “It's time for us to go on a date.”

Sam's standing outside of my car, his arms crossed and a look I can only describe as a mixture of amusement, jealousy, and irritation on his face. I'll give it to him; his facial expressions are what dreams are made of.

“Y/N, are you sure about this? Being bait isn't exactly the best plan…” He trails off, and I think he might actually be concerned.

I smile, “Sam, this isn't my first rodeo, and I'm usually on my own. And if it's Dean you're worried about, I think I can handle him.” I wink at him as Dean opens the driver's side door and climbs in.

“What are you two talking about?” he asks cautiously, his eyes moving between the two of us.

“Nothing. Let's get this show on the road. The faster we get this done, the faster I can get Norma’s famous apple pie.”

Dean looks at me with wide eyes, “There's pie?” I nod, and a wide smile crosses his face, “What are we waiting for then?” He turns the key, and Sam takes a step back. “You know the drill, Sammy. Stay close, but don't scare it off. This should be a piece of cake.” Sam nods and then walks to where the Impala is parked, gives a quick look over his shoulder, then disappears into the driver's seat.

“Is he always this anxious?” I ask as I fiddle with my seatbelt.

Dean scoffs, “Only when there's a pretty girl involved.” He glances at me from the corner of his eye and clears his throat, “You look nice. Pretty convincing date attire.” He pulls out into the main road, and I smooth down the edge of the dress I'd picked out earlier. I'm glad it's dark, or he'd be able to see how red my cheeks are.

“Thanks. I'm not really sure how observant a Mothman can be, but I figured we shouldn't chance it. I don't know how many more opportunities we’ll have, since I already blew one of his lairs to hell.”

Dean laughs, “Good point.” We drive in silence for a moment, and I guess it's too much for Dean because he turns on the radio.

Say you, say me say it for always That's the way it should be

Well, this is awkward. Nothing like Lionel Richie on a fake date, especially one that I'm beginning to think I'd like to be real. I clear my throat, “Turn here.”

Say you, say me say it together Naturally

Aside from the music, we travel the next few minutes in silence. I sneak a glance at Dean and his knuckles are white on the steering wheel. Surely he's not that worried about this hunt? I suppose he doesn't know me well enough to assume I'll be useful, but still.

“You can park here.”

He stops the car, but leaves it running. Lionel Richie is still going, Lord help me.

As we go down life's lonesome highway Seems the hardest thing to do is to find a friend or two That helping hand “So I guess we just wait?” I ask quietly, unsure of what to do now that we’re here.

Dean turns to face me as well as he can in the cramped front seat. Maybe we should have brought his car. “Well, we should probably sell it. You know, make it believable.”

“Mmhmm. That's...that's a good plan.” I'm stuttering because as I'm talking, he's moving closer to me. Dean Winchester is an inch away from my face, and never in a million years did I think this would ever be an option, fake or not.

Someone who understands That when you feel you've lost your way You've got someone there to say I'll show you

His hand gently cups my cheek, and it's rough and warm; a hunter’s hand. I can guess where the callouses and scars are from because I have my own. I close my eyes and drink it in for a moment. I've had my fair share of one night stands and meaningless romps in the backseat of this car, but it's been awhile, and something about Dean feels different. Ruse or not, I'm going to savor it.

Say you, say me say it for always That's the way it should be

Before I can open my eyes, his lips are on mine and boy are they a contrast to his rough hands. They're soft, and they fit against my lips like they were made to be there. His hand moves to my hair and his fingers are tangled and it takes everything I have to not moan when he gives it a gentle tug. If this is acting, what in the hell is this like for real? If I ever have the opportunity to find out, I might just die.

Say you, say me say it together Naturally

He smiles against me, and I pull back for air as I look at him questioningly, “What?”

“You're a good actress. For a second there, I thought you might be enjoying it.”

I shrug, “Well, it's all part of the gig. Sometimes you have to make some sacrifices.” I say it with a wink, and for the first time in my life I actually pull it off smoothly. ‘Atta girl.

Dean looks around, then squints through the window, “I don't see anything, do you? I don't hear anything, either.”

I look through the windshield, “No, but Lionel’s dulcet tones could be covering up any sound. Seems pretty quiet, though.”

Dean's eyebrows furrow in concentration, then he suddenly brightens as he looks at me with a grin, “I think we need to up the ante a little bit. Get in the backseat.”

I can feel my jaw drop, “Excuse me?”

Dean is already scrambling between the seats to get in the back, “We've gotta sell it, Y/N, or we’ll never catch the Mothman. Come on, hurry up.” I stare at him, suddenly recalling the stories that I'd heard that weren't so great. Sam and Dean were heroes but, by all accounts, also very dangerous. I've always ignored those bits but now, sitting in the dark with Dean after only knowing him for a few hours, I was beginning to wonder if I'd made a bad call.

He leans forward, and though the only light coming into the car is from the full moon, his moss green eyes shimmer. “Do you trust me?”

The answer should probably be no, but there's something different about Dean, something more than any other hunter I’ve met.

So you think you know the answers, Oh no Well the whole world has got you dancing That's right, I'm telling you It's time to start believing oh yes Believing who you are You are a shining star

“Yea, I trust you.”

He smiles, “Then come on!” He holds his hands out and I start to climb over the back seat. My feet get tangled and I can feel myself start to fall.

“Dean!” I shriek as I feel gravity take over and I start to fall awkwardly into the backseat. This is exactly why I never wear dresses. I feel arms wrap around my waist, and I squeal as I fall into Dean’s lap, “That was ladylike.”

Dean laughs, one arm draped across my lap and the other wrapped around my back. He wets his lips as his eyes search mine, “I thought it was adorable.” He somehow manages to flip us around so that my back is flush with the seat and he's hovering above me.

“That was smooth. You know, you could take a lady out to dinner first.”

He leans in, his lips ghosting over the shell of my ear, and I shiver. “Technically, I did pay for dinner...so…” He trails off and kisses me again. I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers running through the short hairs at his nape, and sigh into him. Fake or not, this isn't something I'll be forgetting any time soon.

Say you, say me say it for always Oh that's the way it should be Say you, say me say it together Naturally Say it together, naturally

Just as the song fades out, I hear a snap of a twig. I pull away from Dean and put a finger to his lips to quiet him. I nod my head towards the sound and raise my eyebrows. He frowns as he cocks his head and tries to pinpoint where it came from. There's another snap, this time from a different direction, and Dean pushes himself away from me. Just as he begins to sit up, the door flies open, and he's jerked through the opening and into the darkness.

“Dean!”

I scramble to get out of the car, and all I can hear is thrashing and grunts as Dean tries to get away from whatever grabbed him. It occurs to me that the shotgun I have hidden for this very scenario is in the front seat and not the back, so I fumble with the door handle and dive into the front.

“Y/N! Run! It's not-” Dean’s frantic cries are interrupted by what sounds like an incredibly hard punch.

“I’m coming! Hold on!” I grab the shotgun but drop the handful of shells I'd grabbed from the glove compartment. “Shit!”

“Y/N, run! It's not Mothman, it's just a person! It's a person!”

I freeze. A person? All of the disappearances and Mothman sightings...and it's a person? Dean runs back out of the tree line and is waving towards the car, “Get in the car, go! Get Sam!”

I look back towards the car, then shake my head, “No. A monster is a monster, Dean! We can't let him hurt anyone else!”

Before Dean can answer, a huge man bursts through the brush and tackles Dean to the ground. Dean’s head hits the ground hard, and he goes limp. The man stands up and sneers at me. Shit. I aim the shotgun and pull the trigger, but it doesn't slow him down. He crosses the space between us in three huge strides, and I'm quickly trapped between him and the car. He backhands me hard across the mouth, and the force of it causes me to drop the shotgun.

“You're pretty. I like you...I might just keep you alive.” He's holding a knife, and I can feel the cool metal trace along my jaw and down to my throat. I try to pull away, but he’s twisted his hand into my hair and any move I make makes it feel like my scalp is on fire.

“You can take me, just leave him alone. Don't hurt him anymore.” There's a tightness in my throat, and it occurs to me that I'm willing to sacrifice myself for a man I barely know...but it's also a man that's lost almost everything to save the rest of us.

The man holding me laughs, “You obviously don't know how this works.” He leans in, and I cringe as he sniffs my hair. “I can't leave someone alive. I'd get caught. The difference with you is that you're not going to get away, alive or not. I think that's worth the exception.”

I take a deep breath, “I see…” I pull my leg back as far as I can with the car behind me and kick him in the balls as hard as I can. Whatever protected him from the shotgun blast I sent his way didn't cover that part of his body, and he releases me with a whining groan as he falls to his knees. I bring my knee up hard into his chin, and it gives with a sickening crack. I think I just broke his jaw. He falls over, and I run over to Dean, sliding to a stop next to him.

“Dean! Hey, handsome, c’mon. Wake up...please wake up. We've gotta go, I think I broke him.” Dean groans and rolls his head towards the sound of my voice, but his eyes stay closed. “Dammit, Dean, get up!” I look up, and instead of the collapsed giant I expected to see, the grass is empty. “Shit! Dean, come on-” I'm cut short when something grabs me by the hair from behind, “Shit!” I scream, the pain the worst I've ever felt. The monstrous man drags me by the hair back to the car, and I can feel every stick and stone on the ground digging into my flesh. I'm crying, I can't help it. I try to call for Sam, but the only sound I can make is a strangled sob.

The man remains quiet, and when I look up I see that his jaw is at an awkward angle. How he's functioning enough to continue his attack, I have no idea, but I do know that nothing I can do at this point will stop him. Short of Sam showing up, Dean and I are screwed.

The man twists my arm behind me, hard, and shoves me into the ground. I can feel the bone aching to give, and one more twist will probably do it. I squeeze my eyes shut and wait, but the moment never comes. Instead, a strong gust of wind blows over us, and the man releases his grip on my arm. I scramble away and cower against the car as I look up and see the impossible. After everything I've killed, every monster I've fought that by all accounts shouldn't have existed, the very one I grew up listening to stories about is above my head, it's giant wings sending waves of dusty air in my face.

The Mothman swoops down and hits the man with a giant claw, tearing a gash across the man’s face. The only thing he can do is scream as he hits the ground. He throws his arms up in front of him, as if that's going to stop whatever the huge creature is going to do next. It drops down and wraps both talons around him, one close to his throat and one around his waist, and flies up into the air.

“Y/N!” I jerk my head around and see Sam running across the clearing, his eyes wide as he slides to a stop next to me. “Are you okay? What the hell is going on?”

“It wasn't the Mothman...it was just a person, Sam. A person did all of it.” I look up into the sky to see the large creature disappear into the trees, deep in the TNT area. The serial killer that had been wreaking havoc in Point Pleasant was just a dot in its huge feet. “I think...I think the Mothman just saved us.”

Sam helps me stand up, and I cradle my arm gently against my chest. I hear a groan and look over to see Dean slowly sitting up, a hand to his head. He looks over and sees me and Sam standing dumbfounded.

“What the hell happened?” he mumbles.

I look back up at the lightening sky and shake my head, “You're never gonna believe it.”

The Impala is warm against my back as I lean against it, my bones aching with a combination of exhaustion and the wringer they'd been put through earlier. I close my eyes and let the sun soak into my bruised skin. The last twenty four hours have been a whirlwind, and I am looking forward to curling up in bed and sleeping for the next week. I hear someone walk up to me, accompanied by the familiar hiss of a beer bottle being opened. I open my eyes and raise an eyebrow.

“A little early for that, isn't it?”

Dean pops open another one and hands it to me, “Nah. We've not been to sleep yet, doesn't count.”

I take it and sigh contentedly as I wrap my fingers around the cool glass, “Fair enough.” I take a long drag and relish the earthy bitterness of the beer as it slides down my throat. “So. Mothman is actually trying to help people. Like, that's a legit thing that's happening.”

Dean shrugs, “Weirder things have happened.” He raises his beer to his lips, and I can't help but wish our little show hadn't been interrupted. Not really something I should think about right now, but you make out with Dean Winchester and see if you can think of anything else.

“I can't think of any, but sure.” We watch the sky for a moment, and I feel him shift a little closer to me. “How long are you guys staying?”

“I figure we’ll take at least a day or so. We don't have anything lined up and…” his hand drops down to where mine is, and his fingers intertwine with mine, “I know someone that I owe an actual date. One that involves Norma’s famous apple pie.”

“Oh, yea?”

He smiles, and it's enough to stop the world. “Yea. A serial killer interrupted us, kinda put a damper on things.”

“Hmm...I didn't know that was a real date. I just thought you were a really good actor.” I grin at him, and he shakes his head.

Dean grabs the beer from my hand and sits both of them down, then grabs me by the waist and pulls me into him, “Oh, you'd know if I was acting. That was the real deal, sweetheart. I guess I'll just have to show you again.”

Like what you see? Would like to see more? Check out my master list HERE.

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @deanssweetheart23 @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud @barbedwireandbubblegum @sandlee44 @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @smalltowndivaj @captainradicalpassion @myloveforyouxx-deactivated20171 @atc74 @mrsbateshotel53 @easelweasel @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @thelittleredwhocould @jotink78 @amanda-teaches @ilsawasanacrobat

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#moeyy’s awkward moments birthday challenge #mythical creatures challenge #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x reader #reader insert #mothman

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penaltybox14 · 7 years ago

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I got bored at work and doodled this little SVU character study. @sergeantdodds

Sonny loves Christmas.

For Sonny, Christmas is all the best things in the world crammed into a two (official) day span strung out between December first and dawn on December 26th. Foremost: food. Then family and Church, those intermingled, because to Sonny Church is family, God is love and love is his heart stumbling and yearning and racing to be near and kind, like his heard and tongue will fall out of his body in their haste for righteousness. Christmas is magic to him - light in darkness, hope in frost. It's midnight mass and sacred songs in candlelight and the story of a child born homeless to young parents who grows up Lord, uncommon of peace and kindness. Christmas is Noah and Jesse and their laughing light, the little ones who come sidelong into the world, come into the arms of peace. Sonny would like some days more arms to hold the children he loves the children of those he loves, his family. Sonny is not particular about family, not in the sense of blood requirements or even marriage. Liv and Fin and Amanda and Mike - he'd trust and die and love for them, he would. When he was a kid and too soft for the brothers and cousins and uncles, his Priest said to him, son, come with me. And he did and saw the world could be right with hands not fists, and words. He'd forgotten that, by the time he got to SVU. Or not forgot so much as buried - so much as been burned by those older claiming themselves wiser. He didn't want to be no sissy. Lieutenant Benson taught him - like a friendly cuff around the ears - that kindness wasn't cowardice out here, that his forever-soft heart had something to give, some scratch for purpose. Father Cleary had said to him, son, you remember what Jesus did with his hands? Son, he made things, he built them up, he crafted them.

Sonny is no carpenter. But he can cook and he can usually suss out what a person will like most, the things they want but never whisper. Sonny always liked to do things, in a grand and practical way. He feeds his family, his friends (no real distinction). Fin has a penchant for chocolate and Liv hadn't had shortbread in years, and it makes him tremble to think of the look on her face. He makes pasta and casseroles for Amanda, solid and warm. After Mike was shot the second time it took him ages to get to real food, and Sonny would sneak him broth, then soup, then stew. Mike thanks him, muttering and blushing. Sonny thinks there were a lot of TV dinners in Mike's childhood, a lot of tin foil and burnt fingers. He longs to put some meat and muscle under Matt's ribs, too. That'd put him off the dope, he thinks. Oatmeal with cinnamon and fat raisins - right off the dope for good, a meal like that.

Christmas is a month long excuse to bring food to the precinct. They work long hours. New York has probably the best Chinese take-out stateside but it gets old, after a while. Chinese and pizza, pizza and Chinese. Best and fair to bring in a pan of lasagna or a pot pie, something that'll stick to the ribs. Something that'll keep them going. The squadroom smells like sauces and warmth, like a place where people live. One long late night the leftovers go to three young children picked up after a trafficking raid - two boys and a girl in Wal-Mart pajamas, nowhere else to go, not coming from the middle of a crime scene. The children stall, then eat at last the rattle of plastic forks and the whisper of paper plates. Off-brand orange crush from the machine. Glassy-eyed and fearful but fed and warm, for the long road ahead, statements and interviews and the search for any family that longs for their children yet.

Cold December nights, long and light-scarce, where the dawn comes up shallow and soft and so clear your eyes might well see God in the rim between cloud and sky. Trains bang across the five-am bridges and pale weak light bathes them and strangers squint.

#Law & Order SVU #mike dodds #sonny carisi #lt mom's misfit children #do you have any idea how many people sonny is going to feed between now and spring

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algandarsplaguepositive · 2 years ago

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This is the e-card alternative to the traditional holiday card application form for this year’s Holiday Cards From Lord Zane giveaway.

To get you up to speed, every year, around the holidays, I send out generic holiday cards which you can request a doodle inside. It won’t cost you anything and it’s a good way for me to dust off my sketchbook and practise drawing so it’s a win-win. I’ve been doing this every year for the past five years so if you’re interested to look at the cards from previous years, here they are:

2021 | 2020 | 2019 | 2018 | 2017 | 2016

If you would like to receive a physical card through the mail, please fill out this application instead.

Deadline to request a card will be Sunday, December 25th.

#holiday cards from lord zane 2022

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monarch-moon · 8 years ago

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Art Progress 2016

A year which I have learned how to step back and step forward at the same time. More details under the cut.

January- Pages of Hope- Side Quinn Good lord, I couldn't decide which art piece to showcase for January, stuck between the pieces MH!DL- Bnahabro In the Sky, New Year, New Life and the top competitor against the piece: Once Upon A Time. I ended up picking this piece because it fortold how this year was going to be. This was the month where I was most connected with the character, Quinn, who resembled hope...hope that would end up being crushed multiple times later this year. February- AS- Cutting Down Despair The time I remembered how to cell shade again lol. If I remember correctly, this month was when I was still trying out random things as well as going strong with my motivation for Digimon LinK. Behind the scenes, I think Februrary was the month where all I mostly did was random digimon designs and RPing on the forums. They were once my second home when all I have to currently call home is my own bedroom and nothing else outside of it. March- LinK- Ala the Walkuremon I personally feel like I never improve, but with almost every new full piece I dish out, somehow I get better with my shading execution and I don't know how. At the beginning of the month, both ZinyaWolf and FireReDragon came and visited me! The good ol trio got together and did some shit like go to the aquarium, chased geese and all sorts of shit. It was wonderful. A sweet momentary bliss in a life that was slowly getting darker... April- Take the Shot AKA "there was an attempt (to bring Shisenota back)". This was another month where I couldn't decide between several pieces to showcase here, trapped between LinK- The Awakening Storm, CM- Peaceful Nights Out and the simple-yet-beautifully executed LinK- Alternated Vision. I don't have other things to say about this month...other than more RPing, slipping into Mary Sue levels unknowingly, and of course...failed attempts to get a job. May- The first glimpse With certain events from LinK beginning to take ahold of my negativity and my love for the group, I was losing motivation fast. With yet another pitiful attempt to work on Shisenota, I felt that the best thing to work on were the backgrounds. It's not too shabby, to be honest. Can it be better now? Yes. IRL-wise, with LinK dying, we were gonna go back to what we were doing before, which that in itself was still in shambles. It wasn't looking good for us...until an idea began to conduct around the edge of May and June. This concluded the LinK days, and while the ending days were absolute shit, I will miss it. While another story ended up being unfinished, Quinn's main story was more finished than Hukaro's, so I can at least leave LinK without much regret. June- Sans Close-range Mode My official slip into the Undertale fandom of all things, and what did I have to present? A weird sci-fi Undertale AU known as Nextale, which was more or less a semi-Shisenota-esque version of Undertale characters with its own story and characterization that still sets the two series apart. My co-pilot being none other than FireReDragon , we started out small, gradually gaining followers with interest, but we were still relatively unknwon in the fandom. It was something new, it was something interesting, and it was not only gonna help me improve in some way, it was also gonna help me figure out my own story. This began the Summer of Nextale. July- Nextale- The Crimson Soul Still unknown to most of the fandom, while Fire was busy in summer camp, forced to not work on Nextale, the fate of the AU depended on me. I kept working on concepts and an old set of comic pages in the background, also while attempting to make new friends in the fandom. This was, I believe, when we met some people such as TehRogue, who came to us asking if he could dub the comic when it comes out. Boy how I bounced all over the walls that day. August- Nextale- Page 9 Trashing the old pages and working on fully-colored ones, I finally released the first nine pages of Nextale onto the tumblr blog. I was worried about the reception of the comic, thinking it might be shit because I fucked up somewhere, wheher it would be the AU concept itself or in the storytelling department, and on the day Fire came back from summer camp...something completely unexpected happened. Whoever says that popularity can't happen overnight miiiight be wrong. A couple of bigwigs in the fandom, one being the benevolent Crayon Queen/loverofpiggies and hiimtryingtounderfell/Kaito, found us, reblogged us, and suddenly...we gained over 1000 followers in an hour and then some. Before we knew it....a good portion of the fandom knew what Nextale was. It was then that I found out that this fandom will help me out far more than I thought. To top off the good vibes this month brought about, I also FINALLY obtained a new job at Chipotle! Boy, it would be a shame if the good vibes ended so suddenly, ehhhhhh~? September- In a New Light As I had hoped, with Nextale's creation and progress, it's helped me out considerably with figuring Shisenota out, starting with Kotaru's major redesign! In regards of Nextale and it's evergrowing popularity, every day was like a god damned festival. We met so many new friends, united the entirety of the good side of the fandom to help one person out, GETTING OUR AU FEATURED IN A GAME THAT I'VE BEEN FOLLOWING, and so on! With balancing the two series out, it seemed like it was gonna go well....until I got fired from my job less than a month afterward for not being up to their standards despite giving it my all to keep it.... October- NT Yang Xiao Long With the result of getting screwed over and fired from my job, I had entered a severely deep and dark depression which I had never experienced before until then. As a result of that depression, I lost motivation on everything, Shisenota...Nextale...you name it. It put a severe strain between me and Fire and it also brought about another new demon that made me fear EVERYTHING. The popularity started taking a severe toll on my health, especially when the haters began showing up, despite being so low in numbers...this was the time when everyone truly became my enemy. Art-wise, I forced myself to do anything, and this was the best I could cook during then other than pages. This was a patreon reward back when I did raffles. November- Concerned Pupper During the first half of the month, I was still trapped in my deep depression, which was made even deeper for a while due to the elections, but I was also still figuring out Shisenota. When we reached a point where we can figure out the world and the general idea of the story, I was able to dish concepts out left and right. The depression ended when I got a call to what would be my new job at Dollar General, and even more so when the Underfell game dev wanted to make Shisenota into a game. Finally, I was also able to pinpoint the source of my issues that I later realized strained my friendships with literally EVERYONE ELSE, and that demon was none other than severe paranoia. I have yet dished out something brand spanking new, just some small shaded doodles like this one. December- SSNT- New World, New Sun This month...was the month of recovery, which I will make a journal about later. Upon realizing things left and right, I was also able to get my gears back together, art-wise, and I'm still trying to get a grasp on what I truly want. There's honestly so much I can say about this month, but I'll leave it be for now. All I know is that I think I'm beginning to find my true voice, and within the next month, it will truly be a new world and a new sun. Art wise, I learned how to "step back" on quality on certain things so I'm not either "always going all out" or "simple sketches", the fact made especially more apparent during the summer, but in regards of my style, my shading, and especially my backgrounds, I'm starting to go towards the right direction, I feel. The first few months started out REALLY strong, hell, I couldn't even decide which art piece I wanted to do in January, April and December. However, after that, especially after LinK closed down, all I did was kind of dragged onwards and remembered how to be half-assed and still look good with my art. December is when I've felt that I'm beginning to roar again. Life-wise...this is considered one of my more worse years, but not THE worst year (that goes to 2013). Cool things still happened, however, like getting to see Zinya and Fire physically (again. With Zinya coming over again on August lol), Nextale and Shisenota's revamp. Is it enough for me to not say "fuck 2016"?

Hell no.

I'm sorry, but as a person, 2016 has definitely made me degrade, causing everyone to be my enemy in my head, deep-ass pits of depression, my health issues resurfacing worse than ever, and boy do not get me STARTED on this god damned toxic household and what it did to me in the past year. OH and let's not forget how I was on the path of damaging SOOO many things! I am so glad that I was able to turn back while there was a path for me to. So everyone....with one last hurrah:

FUCK 2016!!

#MoonPhyr Art #improvement meme #2016

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kayawagner · 6 years ago

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CASTLE OLDSKULL Mega-Bundle III [BUNDLE]

Publisher: Kent David Kelly Ask and you shall receive! This immense mega-bundle includes every Wonderland Imprints publication from 2016 through to December 2018 ... every Platinum gaming supplement, every Gold Gygaxian history book, every novel, every design guide. Over 10,000 pages of old school gaming and pulp fantasy goodness. Enjoy!

This special bundle product contains the following titles.

ACR1 - Advanced OSR Character Record - Fighter Class Regular price: $0.00 Bundle price: $0.00 Format: Watermarked PDF The best, easiest, and most flexible Old School Renaissance (OSR) character sheets you can find. Here it is, my preferred and custom-built deluxe OSR character record sheet set … direct to you from the World of Oldskull campaign. These sheets are designed for use with both Basic and Advanced style Fantasy Role-Playing Games, as developed c. 1972-1985. If you’re looking for significant changes and innovations introduced beyond 1985, I believe you might be looking in the wrong place. ;-) You get over 100 pages of material. This download pack includes seven files: [1] A 75-page book of instructions (and illustrations) for the Advanced record; [2] the blank Basic record, in editable Word format; [3] the blank Basic record, in printable PDF format; [4] ... ARACHNE - An Epic Work of Dark Fantasy Regular price: $4.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Death is only the beginning ... ARACHNE: A PYRE OF ANGELS is an unforgettable work of epic fantasy. Kent David Kelly’s haunting saga chronicles the death and afterlife of Elspeth Wight, a young Steam Age noblewoman whose beloved sister Christabel has died. Without Christabel, the heartbroken Elspeth forsakes her own beliefs. Tormented and reckless, she dares to believe in the whispers of her mysterious elder — and her childhood protector — Symon Adler. Symon swears to Elspeth that there is a secret afterlife, an unreachable Deathlessness, where Christabel’s soul yet breathes even as its memory begins to fade. Symon promises Elspeth that she and her sister will be reunited in a dark and Gothic paradise, the eternal purgatorial netherworld known only as Embris. ... BLOODBATH BUNNIES - An OSR Gaming Supplement Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Run away! Run away! No! Come ye hither. Avaunt not, you ninny. Behold ye the drunken, juvenile scroll-doodles writ centuries ago by real-world medieval scribes … see here glorious art depicting the original Murder Hobos (tm), the mighty DEATH RABBITS. Behold them hopping about preciously here and there and back again whilst merrily shearing the heads from atop unwary knights, nasty halflingses, and pompous elven magi. Death by bunny, aye, with nasty big teeth. Ridiculous dark fantasy as envisioned by delirious magi back in the 1300s. You can’t get much more old school than that! Inspired by all those unsettling medieval sketches and illuminations of murderous rabbits cruelly slaughtering hapless... CASTLE OLDSKULL - 1,000 Rooms of Chaos Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF "Ah, yes. And what do we find here? Why, the dark harlequin of the underworld neath Castle Oldskull, Groohlz-Drakha, has brought you his cruelest and most luscious map of the nether: Herein you will find 1,000 Rooms of Chaos, direct from the most secret lore of Darkseraphim’s own Castle Oldskull. But here in this codex, which I now grant you, lieth only the names of the rooms, mind. What lurks in each chamber within? You as Game Master will imagine up the descriptions, the tricks, the treasures, the traps, and the monsters lairing within each Room of Chaos on your own." So. The adventurers open the door at last, into the dread reach of the dungeon which you have not had time to design yet. And there, to their ultimate bafflement, they di... CASTLE OLDSKULL - 1,000 Rooms of Chaos II Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF "Ah, yes. And what do we find here? Why, the dark harlequin of the underworld neath Castle Oldskull, Groohlz-Drakha, has brought you his cruelest and most luscious map of the nether: Herein you will find 1,000 Rooms of Chaos, direct from the most secret lore of Darkseraphim’s own Castle Oldskull. But here in this codex, which I now grant you, lieth only the names of the rooms, mind. What lurks in each chamber within? You as Game Master will imagine up the descriptions, the tricks, the treasures, the traps, and the monsters lairing within each Room of Chaos on your own." So. The adventurers open the door at last, into the dread reach of the dungeon which you have not had time to design yet. And there, to their ultimate bafflemen... CASTLE OLDSKULL - 333 Realms of Entropy Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Herein you will find 333 fleeting glimpses of the World of Oldskull … the Realms of Entropy. What wonders will you create from these enigmatic inspirations? The realms in this book will give you enthralling and mysterious idea-shards filled with exotic locales, disturbing secrets, and haunting monster encounters which you can make your own. Each of the 333 realms is uniquely named, and includes terrain details and revelations about the most unusual and powerful monsters who dwell there. Herein you will also find hundreds of suggested random encounters by terrain type, and a unique rumor generator. The rumor generator will intrigue your players, while simultaneously providing you with new hooks which ease the creation of wilderness locales, monster lairs, adventure plots, ... CASTLE OLDSKULL - City State Encounters Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Assassins with envenomed daggers Sworn to exact the ultimate price … Veiled ladies of the evening Beckoning you on with painted eyes … Elegant nobles seeking adventure, Beasts and thieves lurking in alleys, Reavers and monsters stalking the rooftops, Crime lords, madmen, witch hunters, gladiators, All sharing secrets in an endless labyrinth Of arena and abattoir, temple and tomb, A thousand and one nights’ exotic tales Awaiting your discovery … Does this sound like the fantasy city-state of your dreams, the gateway to all adventure? Or would you rather tell your players, “Okay, you guys heal up in town for thirty-six days, and nothing really happ... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Dungeon Delver Enhancer (Character Creator) Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF A decades-long labor of love: The ultimate old school character book. Your game, filled to the brim with every Pulp Swords and Sorcery detail imaginable, Will never be the same. Do your player characters ever seem less like heroes, and more like cardboard cutouts? Do your campaign’s nefarious arch-villains fail to inspire fear, or even interest? Do you need help with your next story hook or adventure campaign, creating compelling protagonists and enemies that your players or readers will never forget? Look no further. The DUNGEON DELVER ENHANCER is specifically designed to enrich every aspect of character design, turning stereotypes into unique and engaging personas. You can design thousands or even mi... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Game World Generator Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Please Note: This is the Platinum Best-Selling first edition of the Game World Generator, available to you at an introductory price. If you would like additional content, there is now a separate Revised and Deluxe Edition available, at This Link. The Deluxe Edition contains twice the content, including a full-featured City State Design Guide. Feel free to choose which affordable level of complexity you require for your own campaign. Thank you for your continued support of the Castle Oldskull line of OSR gaming supplements! ~K ** Wolf-haunted wastelands of frigid tundra, Veiling lost cities sunken and frozen into the ice … Mist-wreathed mountains teeming with orcs, Goblins, demons and dwarven underworlds … <... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Game World Generator - Deluxe Edition Regular price: $4.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Please Note: This Deluxe and Revised Edition of the Platinum Best-Selling Game World Generator is actually two books in one. It is a fully expanded, reformatted, re-illustrated, and re-edited version of the original Game World Generator, along with a new 70,000-word book -- my requested City State Design Guide -- which is featured as a part herein, where the previous edition ended with very little city state information. The two books are united as a continuous narrative due to the number of requests made by GMs for these associated topics over the years. This Deluxe Edition supersedes the existing Game World Generator (GWG1 V1), which remains available separately at an introductory price. The original edition's 71,000 words have expanded with new material to encom... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Monsters & Treasures Level 1 Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF AND SO YOU DARE to open the dungeon door, delving deeper into the upper ruins of nefarious Castle Oldskull. The door opens with a groan, puffing moldy spores into the air. Some evil creature cackles in the dark. You grip your sword, thrust your torch into the murky shadows, and … What do you find? Snarling orcs? Skulking goblins who worship the fire demon who reigns in the Abyss? Dark elves wielding mithril blades, or a coven of scaly Deep Ones? Perhaps you are more fortunate. There are wary gnomes to parley with, and halfling burglars, dwarven rune priests, and the serene and vigilant elven guardians. Or perhaps you are cursed, and therein shall arise the loathsome shrieking fungi, or a swarm of venomous centipedes … This book has all the answers you require for your ... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Adventure Generator Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF The world’s ultimate adventure creation tool. Infinite possibilities await you in dungeons, the wilderness, the seas, skies, netherworld, and the planes of existence. Whither are you bound? Years in the making, mega-supplement GWG2: OLDSKULL ADVENTURE GENERATOR is the “Rosetta Stone” of the Castle Oldskull system, the one master system which binds all of the present and future supplements of the Castle Oldskull OSR gaming universe together into a massive unified imagination engine. Harness the power of over 30,000 data elements to create dungeons, villains, quests, and more. Your worlds of adventure will never be the same! Using this 700+ page supplement, you can create millions of unique adventures for your pl... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull D100 NPC Generator Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Hello all, this one is short and sweet: It's a 26-page old school Gygaxian OSR Non-Player Character (NPC) generator, designed to help you create NPC concepts in a very short timeframe. You can use this book between sessions or even at the table to improv a character during a sandbox game. Extensive tables are included to help you in determining an NPC's name, mythos/homeland, sex, race, class, experience level, ability scores, epithet (reputation), personality, likes and dislikes using only 8 or fewer dice rolls. Appendices are included to assist you in the determination of carried wealth and magic items based on class, power, and wealth level. 11,200 words. Please note that this is a compact generator; it does everything it says in this description but... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Dragons Regular price: $2.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF The great draconian powers of the World of Oldskull arise, ready to fill your players’ hearts with dread, excitement, and trepidation … Are their bold PC heroes ready for the challenge? Have you been wanting to include some classic old school dragons in your campaign? This book will save you hours of development time! Many thousands of dice rolls have been made for you, with the results carefully collected into stat and treasure templates for easy reference and use. Herein you will find 100 pre-generated dragons complete with unique names, combat statistics, spells (as appropriate), and pre-rolled treasure hoards. All 100 of these glorious beasties have been sorted according to their relative challenge level, fr... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Dungeon Bestiary Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF This is the tome of dragons deep, This is the book of the orcish blade ... Bloodied leer of cavern troll, Canticle of the underworld. Graven by the hand of Fate, Beheld by Balor's crimson eye ... This is the jeweled crown and key, Death chant of the dungeon beast. A major companion work to the well-received CLASSIC DUNGEON DESIGN GUIDE series, this epic bestiary is the great compendium of monsters, dragons, devils, and all the eldritch horrors who haunt the netherworld. This massive tome is an ideal work for Game Masters conducting pen-and-paper Fantasy Role-Playing Games. Now, with one huge resource, you can populate your entire mega-dungeon in record time with 79 different random encounter tables, 5,000 different classic encounters! THE OLDSKULL DUNGEON B... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Dungeon Encounters Book I Regular price: $1.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF From the dungeons deep beneath the haunted Ushirian Manor, Castle Oldskull, the first fiends and treasures are now unveiled at last … In this mini-supplement tome you will find 25 unique dungeon encounters and 25 treasures, unearthed from the author’s Castle Oldskull setting, dungeon level 1. The encounters herein are specifically suitable for adventuring parties of the first or second levels of experience. Compatible statistics are provided for Basic, Expert, and Advanced editions of the world’s finest old school role-playing game. These encounters were designed using the Gygaxian bestiary of 1977 and have been specially developed to reveal the extent to which classic monsters... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Dungeon Generator Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Hello all, this supplement features an immense Gygaxian OSR random dungeon generator system, crammed into 83 pages. It’s focused on empowering you to create the sprawling level 1 of any mega-dungeon, or any smaller dungeon set to challenge adventurers of experience levels 1 to 3. The challenge levels of the monsters, traps, tricks, and treasures all reflect that difficulty level. You can use this book to design any number of dungeons, and if your group is patient you can even use it during play. You will also find some experimental solitaire rules here, if you like to practice the dungeon crawling yourself! This book’s systems interlock with the Classic Dungeon Design Guide series (CDDG1-3) as well as the Book of Dungeon Traps (BDT1) if you want to add more detail to any... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Dungeon Tools Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF At last, the culmination of years of old school dungeon design ideas, at your fingertips … Important Note: This is a spreadsheet program, with a user’s manual. This utility is designed to work with a desktop computer, with Microsoft Excel installed and also a word processor (allowing you to paste data output into an easily printable format). If you are using a non-desktop system such as a phone or tablet, you may become frustrated by your inability to use this tool to 100% of its intended functionality. Compatibility with other spreadsheet programs is unfortunately not guaranteed. Please purchase this product only if you have a system that can handle the formatted data and generators in a manner that will be helpful to you. These systems... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Monster Generator Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF The OLDSKULL MONSTER GENERATOR is the ultimate random monster creation tool, created specifically for both the Fifth and First Editions (5E, 1E) of the world’s first and foremost Fantasy Role-Playing Game (FRPG). Rules and guidelines are provided for both editions. This colossal page compendium contains the largest, most comprehensive, and most ambitious monster creation system ever devised. If you feel that your game might be suffering from a lack of variety in monsters and encounters; if you want straightforward help and guidance in refining your own monster concepts; or, if you just want to inject some old school Gygax-inspired, Arnesonian, and Lovecraftian atmosphere into your modern FRPG, then this is the perfect resource for you. Tap into the chaos, ... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Treasure Trove Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF The most ambitious old school treasure system, at your fingertips ... Are you weary of plopping down unimaginative treasures that read “1,000 gold pieces” or something similar? More detail would be great, but how do you get there? Do you have enough game and historical information to provide your players with intricate details on acid types, unholy symbols, perfume types, and realistic spices? Can you provide enough variety to fuel an entire campaign replete with hundreds or thousands of different treasure hoards? The challenge is a daunting one. How can you keep your players intrigued and exploring the endless intricacies of your world if every lair they visit is a predictable slot machine with only four vending bins for coins, gems, jewelry, and m... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Tyrrhenia Map Pack - TYR1 Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF An old school campaign world like no other … the fabled realm of Tyrrhenia which enshrouds the colossal manor known as Castle Oldskull, unveiled at last … Well met, adventurer! Welcome to the age-old land of heroes and perilous beasts. In this introductory “sandbox” campaign starter kit, you will find 18 full-color maps which comprise the old school FRPG realm of Tyrrhenia (the author’s mythic and folkloric interpretation of late medieval Italy and Magna Roma). There is a beautiful full-color satellite image showing all of the Tyrrhenian peninsula and seas beyond; a concise guide-sector map showing how all of the ultra-detail maps connect (as well as the adjacent lands and isles within the World of Oldskull)... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Sword & Sorcery Book I Regular price: $6.99 Bundle price: $0.00 Format: Watermarked PDF After decades of development, Kent David Kelly and Wonderland Imprints are proud to offer you the CASTLE OLDSKULL fantasy role-playing game system. This first rules volume, OLDSKULL SWORD & SORCERY I: BASIC PLAYER CHARACTERS features all the rules new players and Game Masters require to orient themselves in the fantasy world. Here you will find rules, guidelines, and advice for creating newly-emboldened Player Characters in search of adventure in the unknown. The Castle Oldskull Sword & Sorcery Adventure Game is designed in modular fashion, allowing you to progress and expand your realms with bold new challenges, wrought in a world of limitless imagination. Additional volumes in this series detail character empowerment, level progression, dungeon adve... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Book of Dungeon Traps Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Tumbling boulders crushing over powdered bones, Death pits filled with gibbering slime, Strangling vines, enchanted lodestones, lightning bolts, Hateful wraiths Imprisoned in chests of ancient gold, Chained by holy symbol and silver seal ... Every mechanical horror, every thief’s demise, Every fell contraption Lies here, deep in this book of secrets. Would you like to fill your dungeons with traps, but you can never find coherent rules or guidelines to show the way? Are your players weary of arbitrary deathtraps? Have you ever searched in vain for a system which codifies spells into magical traps? Are you bored with the “famous four” — pits, gas, arrows and poisoned needles &m... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Classic Dungeon Design Guide Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Deep dwarven cities of the underworld, Infested by conquering orcs, Enslaved by demons of skull and pyre ... Black labyrinths of mad demigods, Proving grounds for daring adventurers And graveyards for greedy fools ... Twisting passages, all alike, Where lurking trolls and shadow beasts Guard the deepest riddles of the nether ... If you have ever wanted to know how to quickly and masterfully create your own mega-dungeon for your pen-and-paper Fantasy Role-Playing Game (PNP FRPG) campaigns, this is the perfect book for you. This Game Master’s guide will show you, step by step, how to take your vague-yet-promising ideas and how to sculpt them with precise and careful design decisions (enhanced, if y... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Classic Dungeon Design Guide II Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF The sequel to the Classic Dungeon Design Guide is here ... Have you read every dungeon design book out there, but you’re still hungry for great ideas to amaze your players? Would you like to possess the tools to generate countless millions of randomized results for bizarre rooms and shrines, dungeon doors, magical laboratories, skeletons, Lovecraftian abominations, and torture chambers? Then this is the book for you. This massive tome is the direct sequel to Wonderland Imprints’ Gold Medal Best Seller, CDDG1: THE CLASSIC DUNGEON DESIGN GUIDE. Where Book 1 was a basic inspirational tome filled with thousands of ideas, Book II: Dungeon Mastery Design Tables is an advanced nuts-and-bolts guide that provides you with hundreds of pages of tables wh... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Classic Dungeon Design Guide III Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Enchanted fountains shadowed by gargoyle sentries, Tricksy nymphs cavorting in crystal pools, Unholy altars, sacred shrines, Undiscovered treasure vaults, Thousands upon thousands of wondrous rooms Filled with treasure, tricks, magic and eldritch horror, All awaiting your heroes’ intrepid discovery … What greater mysteries await far below, For only the most dauntless magi And fearless warlords to ever find? Continuing the proud tradition of the CLASSIC DUNGEON DESIGN GUIDE series, Book 3: The Labyrinth Lexicon provides you with a nearly endless array of dungeon room types which you can use to build any size, plan and theme of dungeon you desire. This is the largest and most ext... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Oldskull Deck of Strangest Things Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF For all levels, all classes, all who dare. Shake your old school campaign to its foundations with the ultimate magic item … THE OLDSKULL DECK OF STRANGEST THINGS is a deluxe supplement detailing the hundreds of effects created by a Tarot-inspired minor artifact. Profusely illustrated throughout with beautiful card motifs, and with printable color card sheets in the back. 100+ pages. The purposes of this supplement, fully detailing the deck for use in your campaign, are as follows: [1] To make a new tarot deck magic item for old school FRPGs, which surpasses the complexity and quality of all others, while retaining the original Gygaxian spirit of the earliest masterpiece. [2] To clarify generally vague abilities and... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Oldskull Necronomicon I Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons, even Death may die. (Al Azif, Necronomicon, Scroll 50, fin.) THE GREATEST NECROMANCER of H. P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos, Abdul Alhazred, comes to vivid and haunting life in this compelling first codex from the most fabled and infamous grimoire of black magic that the world has ever known: THE NECRONOMICON. This book is a treasure trove for any Game Master who wants to embrace the old school of Fantasy Role-Playing Games. Herein lie the terrible secrets of Great Cthulhu and his cult, of the sunken city of R’lyeh, of Alhazred’s necromantic incantations, of the Nameless City, of Nyarlathotep, and the horrible cannibalistic Ghuls who stalk the storm-wrought wastelands of Yemen an... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Order of the Scarlet Tabard Regular price: $1.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Hale companions, ready and true, prepared to brave the dungeons deep in the name of hard-won gold and glory … Behold the doughty and stalwart men- and women-at-arms who hail from the Free City of Grimrook, the infamous and ever-ready “Redshirts” from the mercenary company known as the Order of the Scarlet Tabard! The old school rules always encourage us to include men-at-arms ready for hire by any low-level Player Characters, so that the adventuring party’s strength is bolstered in the dungeon. After all, if there are not enough bodies in the ranks to soak up those pit traps, fatal spider bites, and energy drains, all of those nasty attacks go straight to the imperiled and beloved heroes who are played by the players. But while the ru... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Pegana Mythos Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Maidens weaving a spell of clouds Over a ruined city of the spice Sunken beneath the venom sea, Blood-painted cultists Chanting beneath the storm moon, Sacrificing innocents to Mung In the name of immortality … The world of a thousand wonders which inspired H. P. Lovecraft’s Dreamlands, and the Cthulhu Mythos Comes to vivid life once more In this Swords and Sorcery supplement For any Fantasy Role-Playing Game. From the peerless works of Lord Dunsany, from my surreptitious campaign notes they come at last: the secret Gods, Monsters, and Heroes who inspired the very foundation of the World of Castle Oldskull. How was the world created? Who... FROM THE FIRE - A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Epic Regular price: $4.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF The end of the world. The beginning of destiny. * A proven Amazon Best Seller (#1 in Action & Adventure Fiction, 2012; #1 in Post-Apocalyptic Fiction, 2014; #3 in Dystopian Fiction, 2014; 5-Star UK Best Seler, 2017) * Over 80 5-Star Reviews for the Saga and Episode Novellas * The Entire Acclaimed Series: Episodes I, II, III, IV, V and VI in a Single Volume ON APRIL 4th, 2014, 6 billion and 783 million people died in the blinding white fireballs of the Pan-Global Nuclear Holocaust. Sophie Saint-Germain, wife and scientist and mother of one, was not among them. She lived for a time, and so her words endure. The reclamation of her terrifying story is a miracle in itself. Uncovered during the Shoshone Geyser Basin archaeological excavations of 2316, Sop... HAWK & MOOR - Book 1 - Deluxe Edition - The Dragon Rises Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Lake Geneva, 1972. Gygax. Arneson. Come experience the Golden Age ... THE CREATION of the world’s preeminent Fantasy Role-Playing Game (FRPG), Dungeons & Dragons®, is one of the most fascinating tales to be told in all the shared histories of entertainment, play and game design. Two very different men, David Lance Arneson and Ernest Gary Gygax, undertook an unprecedented collaboration which gifted us — as their shared legacy — with one of the most intriguing games the world has yet experienced. Their game did not just simulate one isolate corner of reality; it dared to encompass the entirety of all realms of adventure, the consensual playground of the human imagination. HAWK & MOOR tells the story of Dave and Ga... HAWK & MOOR - Book 2 - Deluxe Edition - The Dungeons Deep Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF THE CREATION of the world’s preeminent Fantasy Role-Playing Game (FRPG), Dungeons & Dragons®, is one of the most fascinating tales to be told in all the shared histories of entertainment, play and game design. Two very different men, David Lance Arneson and Ernest Gary Gygax, undertook an unprecedented collaboration which gifted us — as their shared legacy — with one of the most intriguing games the world has yet experienced. Their game did not just simulate one isolate corner of reality; it dared to encompass the entirety of all realms of adventure, the consensual playground of the human imagination. HAWK & MOOR tells the story of Dave and Gary, and the many other people whose efforts gave first life to the game we know a... HAWK & MOOR - Book 3 - Lands and Worlds Afar Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF THE CREATION of the world’s preeminent Fantasy Role-Playing Game (FRPG), Dungeons & Dragons, is one of the most fascinating tales to be told in all the shared histories of entertainment, play and game design. Two very different men, David Lance Arneson and Ernest Gary Gygax, undertook an unprecedented collaboration which gifted us — as their shared legacy — with one of the most intriguing games the world has yet experienced. Their game did not just simulate one isolate corner of reality; it dared to encompass the entirety of all realms of adventure, the consensual playground of the human imagination. HAWK & MOOR tells the story of Dave and Gary, and the many other people whose efforts gave first life to the game we know and love today.... HAWK & MOOR - Book 4 - Of Demons and Fallen Idols Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF THE CREATION of the world’s preeminent Fantasy Role-Playing Game (FRPG), Dungeons & Dragons, is one of the most fascinating tales to be told in all the shared histories of entertainment, play and game design. Two very different men, David Lance Arneson and Ernest Gary Gygax, undertook an unprecedented collaboration which gifted us — as their shared legacy — with one of the most intriguing games the world has yet experienced. Their game did not just simulate one isolate corner of reality; it dared to encompass the entirety of all realms of adventure, the consensual playground of the human imagination. HAWK & MOOR tells the story of Dave and Gary, and the many other people whose efforts gave first life to the game we know and love today.... HAWK & MOOR - Book 5 - Age of Glory Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF THE CREATION of the world’s preeminent Fantasy Role-Playing Game (FRPG), Dungeons & Dragons, is one of the most fascinating tales to be told in all the shared histories of entertainment, play and game design. Two very different men, David Lance Arneson and Ernest Gary Gygax, undertook an unprecedented collaboration which gifted us — as their shared legacy — with one of the most intriguing games the world has yet experienced. Their game did not just simulate one isolate corner of reality; it dared to encompass the entirety of all realms of adventure, the consensual playground of the human imagination. HAWK & MOOR tells the story of Dave and Gary, and the many other people whose efforts gave first life to the game we know and love today.... HAWK & MOOR - The Steam Tunnel Incident Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF THE MORE SINISTER urban legends concerning the Steam Tunnel Incident run as follows: A young genius, seduced and deluded by a mind-controlling fantasy game, abandoned his Satanic gaming cult because he feared for his life. He then delved into the netherworld, a labyrinthine “dungeon” of steam tunnels running for miles beneath a sprawling university. There, under the influence of drugs, occult talismans, evil magic or mere insanity, he mistook fantasy for reality and tried to slay his invoked dragons, demons and devils in real life. Finally, he became hopelessly lost in the tunnels. Facing a slow and horrible demise in the endless dark, he committed suicide. Or, he was murdered by a conspiracy of Lucifer-worshipping gamer-cultists who silenced him to... LORDS OF OLDSKULL - Book I - Krampus Regular price: $0.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF As cav’lier golems march and wheel, In tiny danse of death and holm And arc their blades of mint and bone To tinkling chaunt of glockenspiel; And from the shadow’s watching wall? Krampus sighing, claimeth all. See his sorrowed eyes abright, Bells a-tinkling in the night; Sixty-six the bells they are, Shiv’ring silver-bright I see: Bell woven to brimstone, beard, and mane, Regardless of thy slumber feign’d. From the wintery shadows He comes, and when he sings, none dare keep their most forbidden secrets from his clutches … Are you looking for something a little different to spice up your old sch...

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Price: $58.63 CASTLE OLDSKULL Mega-Bundle III [BUNDLE] published first on https://supergalaxyrom.tumblr.com

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