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gt-adventures · 5 years ago

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Hey Little SongBird

(SFW GT fantasy adventure short story.)

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

Staring: Yonah HaEsh the half-giant wizard. and guest-starring Ophir, the mostly human bard.

Summary: Ophir the bard needs a story to get back in the good graces of the Bards Guild and ventures into the Mystic Woods to find one. And what a story he ends up in! In the clutches of the Great and Terrible Yonah HaEsh. Can Ophir, through story, song, and dance, touch the evil “man-eating” giant’s wicked heart and avoid a terrible fate? (yes of course he can!)

Warnings: Yonah’s job is to be a villainous fairy tale giant (and wizard). That means the whole “fee fi fo fum” and threatening to eat people routine, and he’s really convincing. At no point in this story does he ever intend to follow through on the threat. ALSO Ophir tells a fairytale that ends slightly gruesomely (I actually changed it to be less so… still)

---

I hate the stereotype of bards being horny tricksters who use their voices to seduce people into infidelity. Any such stories are complete poppycock and base slander. Bards are more than pretty faces and lovely voices. We are first and foremost story tellers, entertainers! Actors and chroniclers! Often risking life and limb to get you the stories you love so much. Those fancy sword moves and fight dances you see on stage aren’t just for show.

But still. Going into the Mystic Woods in search of my next story was not a great idea. Solo’ing an adventure into such a dangerous realm was asking for death, with no one around who could tell of it. And yet. I had run out of new material and was desperate. Why didn’t I just purchase rights from another bard through the guild? You might ask. Clever, very clever, but that’s what low rankers do. The apprentices, the journeyors. Not Masters such as I. At least. Not ones who are blacklisted from the guild for not properly crediting a story. How was I to know it wasn’t public domain! It seemed pretty generic to me.

Another problem with being blacklisted? No one wants to adventure with you. Not anyone high ranking enough to help me anyways.

Regardless, to earn back my place in the guild I needed a new story, an impressive story. So I gathered my supplies and took the first teleport to the City of Luster, closest city in the Kingdom of Orr to the Mystic Woods. Sure, other cities exist at its borders, but Luster is the only one with a direct path into the Woods. A path that is safe, to a point.

It’s also a great place to get a few last minute supplies. For example, a small ukulele. My previous instrument, my precious goldenrod Oud, was repossessed by the guild. I needed something cheap and lightweight. And also I was banned from purchasing from most craftsfolk because, and I’m sure you’re tired of hearing this, im Blacklisted.

Luster is so large that I was able to find the ukulele in a pawn shop. I wasn’t after a ukulele, that’s just what was there.

Right! I was ready to go.

Whistling the first ever song I wrote, and tuning my new old ukulele, I set off down the road.

And Into the Woods.

---

Maybe I should lower my standards? Surely the guild won't be too hard on me?

Or perhaps it would just take more than a day and night in the woods to find a story.

The first day I found some gnomes preparing for a small feast of the half-moon glory. I was confident that something would happen at the party. Something had to go wrong, and maybe a hero, maybe I, would save the day! Or night, as it would be night. No such luck, it was a very nice celebration, absolutely no issues. Wasted a day!!

Not that i'm on a time limit.

The gnomes were so nice, and they made the most delightful floral scented cakes. They enjoyed my songs and tales about heroic gnomes and I left their camp with a flower crown and a sack of cakes.

I felt like today I would find a story!

Nope.

In this forest of wonder and magic and monsters and secrets, I ran into nothing. I even played music to attract trouble but Nooooooooo, guess even the beasts of the woods knew I was blacklisted!

It was late afternoon when I found some interesting deer tracks and decided to follow.

Bards aren’t known for our stealth but I’m going to tell you a secret. What’s the guild gonna do! Blacklist me?

Anyways the secret is: certain Bards learn to play notes and pitches that cancel out our footsteps and create silence.

I followed the prints to find a small herd of very interesting deer!

They had really interesting patterns, each one slightly different but only if you looked closely. That meant I needed a closer look.

So focused on the deer I didn’t watch my feet and I tripped. The deer ran off.

“HEY!” a shrill voice called from somewhere in the trees, “What did you do that for?”

No idea who was yelling at me but I was taking no chances, and like the deer I bolted. But not fast enough, not nimble enough.

An arrow shot by my leg and stuck in the ground. I stopped. And stood perfectly still.

“idiot.” the voice was now right behind me!

I turned. And looked down. It was an elf! With plum purple skin and dark green hair.

And they were laughing.

Then another elf fell from the trees to land silently next to the first. This one had dark green skin and straw yellow hair. Their long ears were standing straight up reaching higher than my eyes.

They were laughing too.

“What’s so funny?”

“You responded to ‘idiot’!” Said the purple one.

Ugh. Elves!!

Then they got suddenly more serious.

“Can’t believe it! We’ve been hunting those deer for days and you happen to trip when we got them in our sights!”

“I’m, sorry?”

The second elf elbowed the first, “he couldn’t have known we were there, Damian! Not his fault!” She spoke in elvish but I’m fluent.

The first elf, Damian, looked up and half groaned half sighed, “and I suppose, Bridget, that I should apologize to the human for almost shooting him?”

I don’t know why I spoke up but I did.

“It was an impressive warning shot!”

Damian’s ears stood up again then folded back and a little red flush appeared on the purple cheeks. As did on Bridget’s but for a different reason.

“Yes. Warning shot,” they said.

This time I managed to keep my mouth shut. Not a smart idea to quip about an elve’s bunting prowess. I still wasn’t happy to learn they were trying to shoot me!

“You’re an adventurer?” Asked Bridget.

“A bard!” I said.

“Need a place to stay tonight?”

The shadows were lengthening, I hadn’t noticed. And then my stomach growled.

“I sure do. But are you sure? I mean I did scare the deer-“

Damian shouldered their bow and nodded, “It wouldn’t be very elven to leave a stranger in the woods.”

Even not hunting they moved so silently I couldn’t take my eyes off them as I followed them to their village. We stopped by the temple, as it is the respectful thing to do when entering the village. It was set up for fall, done up in browns and oranges and paper chains. On the altar was a single brown leaf. The first one seen by a member of the village.

I’m not elvish but I still prayed to Autumn for my hometown to have a bountiful harvest.

I sat on the floor in the common dining hall as my new… friends, sat on stools made of tree stumps. They may not have caught any deer but there was some sort of roasted meat concoction wrapped in sugary leaves, crystallized to give it crunch, making a sweet and savory combination I’d never experienced before. The same sugar crispy leaves were used to scoop a sort of nut and vegetable curry. Delightful! I could write a song just about the food.

I of course told them why I was in the woods, since they were curious.

And they told everyone how I tripped and fell, exaggerating it greatly. All the elves laughed but knowing elves I was better off. They enjoyed slapstick comedy. The fact that I was able to laugh at myself seemed to gain me favor.

One elf, with lighter green skin and dark brown hair laughed like the rest and yet, their eyes were deep in thought. They were a strange one, I think. Even by elf standards they had a strange name.

Jacuzzi? Who names themselves jacuzzi?

Then they spoke.

“So, you need a story?” They asked. I nodded.

“I think I can help you,” they said, “at the very least point you in the right direction.”

At their words a lot of the company got quiet.

“If you’re that desperate, there’s,” they paused, as if they were still considering whether or not to tell me, “A wizard. If you encounter him, you’re sure to get a proper story.”

I couldn’t think why this made the elf act so strange, plenty of mages made it their job to participate in tales. Though. With wizards they were usually evil, if not a member of an adventuring party. Nonetheless! A story about a wizard sounded fantastic.

“Where does-“ I stopped myself from finishing that stupid sentence. Nowhere in the Mystic Woods stayed put so asking for directions was complete folly.

“What’s the best way to, uh, find him?”

Jacuzzi shrugged “The birds have the most up to date information. But you’ll know it’s his place when you find the tower in the garden.”

Lots of wizards had towers, few had gardens. That was more of a witch thing.

“He’ll be there? Tonight”

“Probably, he can't- well he’ll be there. If not tonight then by the morning. Don’t mess with his things.”

“Why-”

“He considers it extremely rude- You don't want to be rude”

Sound advice.

“Hold on tonight?” Damian re-entered the conversation. “Are you mad? Traveling the forest at night is dangerous! Especially alone.”

“So? I’m trying to get into trouble. Doesn’t make a difference if I find it at the tower or on my way.”

My confidence wasn’t entirely fake. I had a good meal, I wasn’t tired. I could knock this out by morning!

“Thank you, for everything.”

I swear I heard giggling as I departed. If these elves were pulling one over on me well! I don’t know what I would do but I’ll think of something. I had a wizard to find.

It wasn’t long before I realized why I should have waited for morning.

No! Birds!

From Who could I ask directions? The sun was about to set. It was only early autumn, the days were still a decent length, but it would be dark real soon. No birds, no people.

Wait. I spoke too soon. There were footsteps. It was a slim chance but maybe they could help me.

“Young man, what are you doing? Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out at night alone?”

The voice had a deep and soft quality that wasn’t human. But they were speaking Orriandish. Really folks, dont meet strangers in the forest that you can’t see. They’re usually evil witches or sorcerers or cyclops ogres. Yeah, one-eyed ogres are skilled talkers, luring people to them. It was only after I answered I realized this could be an ogre.

“Aren’t you out alone too?”

“Why yes-” the voice was closer and then I saw them.

Thankfully it wasn’t and ogre. But it was a witch, and a dwarf one. Uncommon. Probably not evil. It did explain why they were confidently out at night. Dwarves had pretty amazing night vision. They had the traditional black robe and hat, and a cat sat down beside them. It was a really large cat, which was amusing next to the short witch. Their long braided beard was decorated with trinkets, which was a quaint look I must admit.

“But I live here.”

I stood up straight, which I guess was a bit rude.

“How do you know I don’t?” I stammered, “I could!”

The dwarf stroked their beard, “I guess it’s possible, do you?”

I sighed and slouched, “No…”

“But I am looking for trouble.” I explained my story and the dwarf listened, smiling kindly.

“So the elves told me I would be guaranteed a story if I found this wizard who has a tower and a garden-”

The witch’s eyebrows raised.

“- you know this wizard?”

The cat mrowed loudly, his tail swishing on the forest floor a bit faster.

“I do indeed,” there was an extreme fondness in their voice.

“And you know where he is?”

The witch laughed, “I’d say this was coincidence, but in these parts there are too many of those to be truly coincidental. I do in fact know the currently location, and it’s close by.”

“Really!” I almost danced with excitement.

Unlike the elves the dwarf had no hesitations. They pointed me in the right direction, and informed me of a few roadblocks and landmarks.

“Thanks so much!” I waved back at them and didn’t look where I was going and almost tripped.

Almost.

“And light your lantern!”

Oh right, duh!

Finding the tower was easy with the witch’s directions. They’d even told me the thorns were fake and the vines safe to climb up. That should have raised red flags, or some color, but I was so focused on achieving my goal.

Now, we bards aren’t really known for our… physical abilities beyond dance. We can fight sure, but a fifty-foot climb is gonna leave most bards gasping for breath. I'm proud to say I was merely on the cusp of wheezing, though I was having difficulty standing.

I needed to rest. So I lay on the windowsill.

Which I failed to notice stretched so that I could more than easily lie down. The cool night air and stone felt so nice. I looked into the tower.

And my heart stopped.

I’d gotten a brief glimpse before nearly passing out, but it was different now.

Exactly the same.

But.

Bigger.

You might know, my readers, that wizards are all human. All of them. Non-humans aren’t allowed to attend the academy. I’m sure those like I, being a quarter fairy, might be let in, but... This- this giant sized workshop didn’t make any sense. A giant could not be a wizard no way. Why would the elves say this was a wizard’s tower? Did they not understand the difference between wizard, witch, and sorcerer?

But the dwarf witch, they had to know! They had not corrected me. Plus, the workshop did have a very wizard feel to it.

What was going on here?

I needed a moment to process so I rolled over to look outside. Looking inside made my head hurt.

But a Giant Wizard. If that were real, what a story! If it were fake, then well, a giant mage is still exciting. I looked once more into the room. Three desks, one for material prepping and alchemy, one that looked like the main workbench, and one… like a spare workbench? It was not very organized compared to the other. And shelves full of things I could not identify.

And on the floor, an open trap door with stairs leading down. Down to where the wizard must be.

I was thankful I had noticed the shift in scale, or I surely would have fallen 15 feet onto the floor. Instead I got out my grappling hook and rope and rappelled down. With a flick, the hook dislodged. This place was large, I would need it again.

I could have spent hours in this room, just taking in the immense magical collection, but that wasn’t why I was there. And I heard noises from down the stairs. Water? Clinking metal? I took each stair one at a time, slowly making my way deeper into the tower.

Either the kitchen just happened to be one floor down or this stairwell was enchanted to take you to the floor you were thinking about. For just as I reached the landing I saw the massive doorframe that led into what was clearly a kitchen and small dining room. Small for the giant, who was at the sink washing pots, pans, and other things.

He certainly looked like a wizard! A tall wide brimmed hat with a curling point, and robes that matched the garish colors and patterns. He had a neatly trimmed goatee and mutton chops, and long curly black hair tied behind his back. On his handsomely large nose rested thick square spectacles. Not only was he tall, he was just plain large.

I know I talked about the false stereotypes of bards, but we weren't the only profession with them. People tended to think of Wizards as more delicate, as they spent all their time studying, never going out, forgetting meals. But this, man, for he looked more human than giant except for being over 20ft tall, well the only word for it was burly.

I’d never imagined a wizard who, if you removed his wizard robes, put him in a flannel shirt and handed him an axe would be a picture perfect lumberjack. Now such a wizard was right before my very eyes.

Suddenly I was not so confident. I should have lost my nerve back at the window, when I saw the scale of the workshop. But it just didn’t hit me until I saw the giant. I’ve seen giants before, they are actually larger than this person, that made him seem more dangerous.

Oh.

Oh no.

This wasn’t just any wizard, or any giant.

This one was evil.

Maybe I could just leave! Yeah. I would just get the fuck out of here. I was not prepared to handle an evil giant wizard.

I made my decision a bit too late. The giant stopped cleaning a plate to look up and sniff the air.

Shit.

It was futile to run, but it was my only option. I didn’t even make it up two stairs before the giant roared with delight.

“FEE FI FO FUM!”

No no no! Not that!

“I SMELL THE BLOOD OF THE HUMAN KIND!”

Well technically I was quarter fairy but-

“BE THEY ALIVE OR BE THEY DEAD, I’LL GRIND THEIR BONES TO MAKE MY BREAD.”

Yeah… I should not have come here. Evil giants tend to eat people. I’d had a small hope that this smaller giant, who was very likely a proper wizard, wouldn’t. Also the line about grinding my bones to make bread? I’m no alchemist but I dont think powdered bones make for a good flour, and wouldn’t even be enough to make bread for a giant if it were! As far as I knew giants didn’t bother with such things and just gobbled people up.

Which didn’t bode well for me as this giant made it stairwell in a few seconds and scooped me up in one hand, holding me up to his face.

“How convenient, a tasty little thief” he smiled, revealing very giant-like fangs. His breath was horrible. “I was just thinking I needed some dessert.”

“Please! Mister Wizard, I did not steal anything, I am no thief! I’m a bard!”

The giant raised his eyebrows, but did not set me down, instead he turned and walked back into the kitchen.

“A bard?” he asked, “what’s your name?”

“Ophir Shel Peh!” I said.

“Not Jack then?” The giant tapped his chin, and his eyes found my ukulele. “Hm. Yes I would say you probably are a bard! I don’t get many of those.”

He sat at the personal dining table. And set me in front of him, putting his elbows on the table, and his chin over intertwined fingers. It was silent except for his breathing, and my heart in my ears. Every breath he took blew around me, and it was just a little warmer than I expected. He didn’t say anything for a long time and I started shaking, adding my rattling bones to the noise.

“Why are you here?” he asked before I fainted (I had… somehow forgot about breathing).

“Adventuring!” I couldn’t say ‘for a story’! THAT’S CHEATING. But perhaps... Ah I can’t lie to you reader. I wish I could say I was perspicacious enough to consider this giant was a professional fairytale villain. But I had no idea. I was damn lucky he was though. And he’s really good. I understand why His Mystical Majesty hired him.

Let’s get back to me being a complete dumbass shall we?

The giant’s face hardened and I worried I’d fucked up.

“Adventuring?” he asked rhetorically, but I nodded, then he looked a little morose.

“Shame, I was thinking of letting you go-”

He was!?

“-But I guess I have to eat you after all.”

He didn't sound at all troubled by it. I mean, he had threatened to do so. I backed up and he smiled, knowing he could snatch me up no matter what. I think he could tell I was going to ask why, even just to stall.

“It’s nothing personal, I don’t like intruders on my good days. But I can’t have you out there talking about me, spreading the word of a merciful giant. You’ll only get more people killed. ”

That was a lot to process but I got the gist.

“I won't talk!”

He stood up and slammed his palms on the table so hard I finally fell down.

“You’re a bard, it’s your job!”

Unfortunately he was right.

Then he looked a bit surprised by something, narrowing his eyes at me.

“I suppose,” he said, “your job also involves performing?”

I nodded.

“I don’t get to go out much,” he said, though I wasn’t sure that the entire truth “If you give me a good show, I might consider it payment for what would have been an extra special treat. I can smell the fairy blood on you.”

I tried not to make a face. My fairy blood made me smell better? Great. And there was always a chance he was lying, just to get a show and his dessert. Evil giants might be fairly honorable, but evil wizards were notoriously dishonest. So I had no idea with this evil giant wizard.

“Wh-what do you want me to do?” I asked.

He sat back down, perfectly copying his original pose.

“Tell me a story,” he said. “And perhaps I will not eat you.”

Great. Legally there weren’t many stories I could tell. You might be asking, ‘Ophir! You’re about to die, what do you care?’ Well if I live and I'm found out, I’ll be expelled from the guild for life. I’m already in hot water.

That… and the only stories I could think of were ones with evil wizards or giants, who ended up dead. Curse my stupid brain. But I couldn’t refuse, he would eat me! Guess I had no other choice.

[(adapted from a real tale)

The story of Maestro Lattantio and His Apprentice Dionigi.

It was an old tale, from the long dead kingdom of Italy, so anyone could tell it. A wild tale of a wizard and his apprentice battling it out in ways only two mages would. Wanting to be free of his abusive master, Diogini kept turning into things, animals, creatures, to escape.

But Lattantio would transform into the exact creature or monster or animated object needed to re-capture Diogini. Eventually Diogini turned into a fish and swam down a river. Lattantio declared that he was through with these games and would kill him. Lattantio turned into a kingfisher hawk, intending to snatch him out of the water, but Diogini jumped into a basket carried by a handmaiden for the princess. The handmaiden had been doing laundry, so being a fish wouldn’t do. He turned himself into a beautiful ruby ring. The princess found it in her pocket and he became her new favorite piece of jewelry.

Then one day, the King became ill, and Lattantio was called in to cure him. He did of course, and in payment, asked for the princess’s ruby ring, for he could tell it was Diogini. But he could come back tomorrow for the payment

That night, when the princess took off the ring, Diogini transformed back into a man. He apologized for his ruse, and explained that the wizard Lattantio was his enemy, and would do anything to get him back into his clutches. The princess, who at first was horrified, saw that Diogini meant her no harm, and he was as handsome a man as he was beautiful a ring. She asked how she could help.

The next day, when Lattantio returned, the princess stepped forward and held out the ring. Then dropped it to the floor. It turned into a mouse, so of course, Lattantio turned into a cat. The princess whistled to one of the palace dogs, which leapt at the cat, breaking its neck.

Diogini quickly returned to human form and separated the dog from the cat’s corpse, tossing it into the fire. The only way to be sure the evil was truly destroyed.

Impressed by Diogini’s skill and at the behest of the princess, the King was happy to make Diogini the court wizard, and his son.

]

I concluded the story, and looked at the giant, distressed to find he looked unimpressed.

“That was,” he waved his hand in a dismissal manner, “diverting, but I could just have easily read that story.”

WHAT! I’d done voices! I was dramatic and expressive! How dare he say reading it from a book could be the same! But I couldn’t be angry because I was scared.

“Though I suppose it was decent,” he continued, “just not enough to keep you alive.”

Crap.

“Dance for me,” he said, “and perhaps I will not eat you.”

It took me a few seconds to notice he wasn’t eating me, but instead was giving me another chance. But… Dance!? On this table? With my leather boots on? And my thick pants? And no music!? This was not good.

“S-sure” I said, I was still shaking badly.

Since there was no music I thought perhaps, something that conveyed real meaning through motion. I could hear the song in my head at least, so I wouldn’t falter or look like I was making shit up.

I leapt and gestured, and waggled my body in the most embarrassing ways.

“What is this crap?” said the giant after I had danced for only a minute.

“Interpretive dance, mister giant,” I said, freezing in a most uncomfortable pose.

“You’d better pick something else,” he said. “And give it some more personality”

All I knew was he had given me a second chance. Ok. So I didn’t have music, but maybe something rhythmic would be better. I didn’t have the right shoes but my footsteps were still very audible.

So I went into a new dance. Hopping and stomping and tapping my feet. Then I started singing. I had been so stupid that I forgot I could do both at the same time. I basically re-invented a few ritual dances from my hometown, used to bless the beginning of each month. If I lived through this I would go home and teach everyone.

The giant Watched me carefully from behind those huge glasses. Judge, jury and executioner.

Finally I was sore and out of breath, jumped up to land with a mighty THUNK, ending the performance.

The giant looked a bit sorry now. Why would he look sorry!?

“That was very impressive, and your singing was a nice touch, but I think such things would best be done with a group. Alone it was underwhelming.”

What did he know! I’d danced my freaking ass off! I sat down and tried not to cry as I regained my strength. Why weren’t my best efforts good enough!? I was a Master bard. But I was at the mercy of the most subjective critic. I had to change tactics. Impressing him wasn’t going to cut it.

“Well, since it’s getting late,” he reached out a hand.

“Wait!” I shouted, nearly breaking my voice which would have been a death sentence.

The giant’s hand paused, “That was so bold I’m inclined to do so, but not for long.”

“You, liked my singing?” I asked.

The hand retreated. “You could say that.” Then he caught on. “Fine. One last chance.”

He leaned back, crossed his arms, and cleared his throat.

“Sing for me, little bard, and perhaps, I will consider not eating you.”

I scrambled to my ukulele. It was so old it was already out of tune, so I hurriedly tuned it, under the piercing gaze of the giant.

“Your voice isn’t magical is it?” Asked the giant as I tuned the ukulele.

I smiled “No, it is. My fey ancestry. Never really tested its power. Mostly I’ve transfixed crowds or made them cry with the opening notes. I’ve also played monsters to sleep.”

He leaned forward as I realized my mistake and quickly added “but that doesn’t work if you know about it! Which you now do!”

Thankfully he believed me. I was telling the truth, but there was no reason for him to trust me.

“Well, just make it a nice song. I’ve got sensitive ears.”

Oh fantastic. That meant he could probably tell if I went out of key. I had a moment’s thought to play something screeching and horrible, to make him bleed from his ears, giving me a chance to get away, or at least cause him pain before he ended my life. No. My first choice of song was probably the best one.

I sat down criss cross apple sauce, but back very straight. And I strummed the opening cords.

[

In the quiet mystic morning When the sun’s just graced the land O’er the horizon, lies a story And it begs to take my hand

Now that summer’s ceased its gleaming And the harvest’s past its prime In adventure I’ve found meaning But I’ll be homeward bound in time

Bind me not, to the pasture Chain me not to the town Set me free to find my calling And I’ll return to you somehow

As the first instrumental break started I turned my attention to the giant. His face was as stoney as ever. I wasn’t hitting my mark. So I continued.

If you find it’s me you’re missing And you’re hoping I’ll return To your thoughts I’ll soon be listing On the road I’ll stop and turn

The old strings were threatening to cut into my fingers but I just used the pain to fuel my voice, powering it with agony and sorrow. I saw the giant’s brows raise as my human sized voice grew to fill the giant room.

For the wind has set me racing As my journey now begins To leave the path I’ll be retracing When I’m homeward bound again

Bind me not, to the pasture Chain me not to the town Set me free to find my calling And I’ll return to you somehow

The second, and last, instrumental break. I had started crying at the chorus and couldn’t see the giant through my tears. My last performance, and it was for my murderer.

And still my song rang out.

In the quiet Mystic morning When the moon has gone to bed When adventure’s lost its meaning…

I’ll be homeward bound

Again

My ears were ringing from the sheer volume, I was clutching the Ukulele so hard it threatened to crack. I was numb from all my efforts. Now would be a great time for him to eat me, maybe I would feel no pain.

Then, as my ears and eyes cleared up, I saw.

The giant's eyes, red. Shiny trails of tears down his cheeks. His arms were still crossed but he looked like he was almost strangling himself. Still, I did not let myself feel any hope.

“Dammit,” he hissed and sniffed, “I should eat you for making me cry.”

No. No no no no no.

“But I won’t” he sniffed again and got out a handkerchief, “You’ve more than earned your life.”

I collapsed and started crying harder. I had done it. By the gods. I had fucking done it. I let myself melt into the table, half passing out. I didn’t want to feel or think for an entire week. I guess because he wasn’t going to kill me, the giant let me lay there.

When I finally sat up he was making tea! I very much wanted to get the fuck out of there but the tea smelled amazing, almost magical.

He noticed me moving.

“I find tea helps after a harrowing adventure,” he said cheerfully.

His demeanor was entirely different. His face was softer, his voice was higher, his dark brown eyes colder, but considering they had been blazing before, it was a friendly warmth now.

That really had been an adventure hadn’t it. One that really made use of my skill set. One that was perfect to turn into a story. It had great pacing too, with just a bit of tweaking. I’d already started writing out the flowery prose and accompanying staging in my head. My interpretive dance was going to be way better in the retelling, but don’t say anything to the guild alright? Everyone embellished.

I had to scramble away as he set the table, which meant setting down a smaller table and chair for me, and then bringing over his own cup and the teapot. He touched the sides of the pot that must be hot enough to scald skin from bone like it was nothing, pouring out near boiling tea. I watched mesmerized as he used a bit of magic to pour the tea into my teacup.

“Let it cool,” he said, as he took a drink of his own tea, “I’m not normally a fan of sweetened tea, but I thought a little extra honey would do your throat some good.”

I gingerly stood up and got into the chair. It was normal sized of course, since he was giant. But here I felt like a doll that some demonic girl had set up for a tea party.

“Thanks,” I said, and indeed my throat felt raw. I couldn’t wait to drink the tea, but it was still too hot.

“I should be thanking you,” said the giant, smiling and showing off his fangs, but it no longer felt so threatening, “That was quite a show! You must be a really high ranking bard.”

My face turned very red, “I- well I’m on probation,” I admitted, “blacklisted. So really, thanks for-”

I saw his eyes glitter, literally.

“You- you never meant to eat me did you?”

He grinned even wider, “No, but I trust you won't include that in your tale.”

I shook my head.

“I very much enjoy playing the big bad giant,” he mused, “But I have other work; I can’t have adventurers showing up all the time.”

Now I was curious, “If I may ask, what else do you do then?”

There was a short pause as he considered whether or not to tell me. I wondered if it was a grand secret.

“I’m a royal wizard,” he finally said, and there was a massive amount of pride underneath his tone. And resentment. That was concerning.

My jaw dropped, “You- A Royal Wizard?”

This might be the most interesting person I’d ever met. How did a giant, or giant-esq thing become a royal wizard!? How did a royal wizard end up running an evil tower?

“You already got one tale, but if you’re not inclined to leave so soon, I can give you another.”

I definitely knew where this was going and I definitely wanted this tale.

“But on one condition,” he said. “You cannot tell it until either I or the Mystic King is dead.”

“Are- you dying?” I asked.

He laughed, “No, but I am still a villain. I try to keep a fairly low profile, but any day a slayer could show up and succeed in killing me.”

That made sense, but now that I was not mortally terrified of him, I saw that this man was much younger than I’d previously thought. He looked barely 24, a young man, and he had to worry about slayers! It also meant it couldn’t have been in this job for that long, being evil must really suit him.

“Hopefully it won’t be for years, which will give you time to make this tale as grand as possible,” he continued.

He drank more of his tea.

“I’m not great story teller,” he started off, “but I suppose the tale of how a foolish half-giant with dreams of becoming a wizard, and ending up a prisoner in the woods, might be a good one.”

Prisoner? Even more layers. Yes. This should be a good one indeed.

Though he was right. Gods, wizards! They have no concept of narrative flow! They don’t leave out details!

And yet. It was riveting. Yonah HaEsh, for that was his name which I finally learned, was half giant, half FireWitch. His father, the FireWitch, got interested in magic, but he wanted more structured study, beyond what witches can do. So he disguised himself as human to attend school. He was found out eventually, expelled and arrested for infiltrating the kingdom as a dangerous magical monster. He was almost executed before he was offered a job here in the tower! And amazingly, the Grand Master of the school had taken pity on him and allowed him to continue his studies here and graduate, earning the right to call himself a wizard.

I had forgotten about my tea by the end and it had gone cold. That was an easy fix apparently: he pinched the cup between his thumb and pointer finger. A few seconds later it was steaming again.

I finally took a sip, it was incredible. I made a mental note to write a poem or a song about it. But I had other things to think about, to talk about.

“It’s a great story,” I said, with a cockiness I should have tried to keep in check, “but it needs a lot of work. It’s a good thing I’ve got a lot of time. I’ll need to go out and interview people.”

I stood up, “Which means, I need to hear it again.”

Yonah raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“I should have been taking notes,” I said, “I need more specific dates and times and names! Oh and if you can tell me how your parents met, that would make for a great prologue.”

He stood up too, clearing away his and my tea settings. But he didn’t clean them, just put them aside.

“In that case,” he said, returning and offering his hand palm up, “We should take this upstairs.”

I still hesitated a bit, but I sat on his hand and was transferred to his shoulder. I’d never been on a giant’s shoulder before. I was tempted to touch his curly hair, since mountain giants don’t have hair, I thought it amazing that this half-giant had such thick silky locks. I settled to lean a bit towards his head for steadiness. Yonah didn’t say anything as he regathered the teapot and cups, and even got a few pieces of berry-nut bread and goat cheese. Then headed up to the workshop.

Once again, he had a human sized desk that he set on his much larger one, and human sized pens (really nice ones), and a few human sized notebooks. Though I guess, since he can reduce to human size whenever he wanted (that was part of his “disguise”), and had many human friends, it made sense.

“We can go in order,” I said, “But I think I want to start on what you got up to in school. We want people to really get attached to you and your friends so that they are on your side by the trial.”

Yonah liked that idea. I think he wanted this story to show him in a positive light, even if he was officially evil.

We worked through the night. And my second cup of tea got cold.

[FIN]

[PLEASE REBLOG and/or tell me what you think in an ask/message!]

FOR REFERENCE, HERE’S HOW THE SONG SOUNDS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VooU55wzSEc

Liked this Mystic Woods story? I have more!

For GT ONLY stories: gt-adventures.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story

[I have to mention, that I have many more Mystic Woods stories, however those contain safe/soft non-sexual v/o/r/e... But lucky for you! i have filed them them separately! and (when needed) Every story comes with detailed content warnings!]

For ALL mystic woods stories:

vo/re-scientist/tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story (take out the “/” in vo/re)

[one or two of my GT-ONLY stories are on my not so secret vo/re blog but from now on I’m posting the GT-ONLY ones here! hurray!]

#gianttiny #g/t writing #g/t talk #giant/tiny #g/t #male giant

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loserclubsblog · 5 years ago

Text

Assassin's Match

It was raining at 2:47 in the morning and this did not make Richie's assignment any easier. Of course that didn't mean he couldn't do it. He was really one of the best for the job, but the heavy sheets of rain were like a vail covering a large range of his vision. It was times like these that he was now greatful for his contacts that had replaced his coke bottle glasses. The wind speed was brushing 5 mph, pulling favoritism of the shot to the south. He would need to readjust with the wind and the rain so that his shot would rain true. As he looked through his scope and found his target. Tightness pulling at his chest and ragged short breaths racked his body as the thrilling rush of adrenalin surged though him. His finger wrapped around the trigger. One inhale of focus. One exhale for calming effects. His finger tightened around the trigger. He had closed his eyes to listen one last time before...

BANG! The sound echoed around him.

Richie opened his eyes wide, taking another look through his scope. Blood was sprayed across the older man's chest. This would have been a nice shot. Well... if it had been his.

"SHIT!" Richie yelled through the rain. This was the third time this had happend. This was the third time someone had taken the kill shot right before him. Whoever this was that was stealing his targets were taking his paychecks as well.

Aware of the change in plans, Richie needed to pack up and leave in a hurry. After only a couple of minutes of packing and storing his rifle, he headed towards the stares. Abandoning his spot from the broken window. As he flew down the three stories and burst through the doors, the car was already running. Yanking open the passenger side door and slinging the rifle in the back, he jumped in. Before he was really good and in the car, the tires screeched and the high speed drive was now in place.

"So did you take the headshot or go for a bullet through the chest?" Beverly asked sitting right next to him. He let out what came as a frustrated grumble. At that Beverly slowed down, either deciding that they were far enough away or shocked at the response. "What the hell does that mean? You did kill him didn't you?" She looked over at Richie with a raised eyebrow and a condescending tone.

"He beat me to it. Again. So no." Richie couldn't look at her when he said it. He knew she wouldn't be happy with this. This would be the third paycheck that he had promised her, and he failed to come through. He knew she had needed the money. He knew he couldn't deny her that much longer. They were best friends and literal partners in crime, but he wouldn't blame her if she left for someone who could pay her. "Don't worry. Im still gonna pay you. I promised I would."

"You don't have to worry about that. I won't hold you to that one. Just bag a damn kill for the love of God Rich." She let out a sigh as she took a left at the intersection. "What are we gonna do about this jackass? We can't just let him steal our checks."

"I don't know. What do you want me to do?" His voice sounded uncomfortable at this sudden question, his body language even more so. He shifted in his seat and his gaze went to an impatient Bev.

"We have a few options. Take your pick." This was not what Richie was expecting. He didn't like being put on the spot. He killed for a living. He knew one of the options Beverly was getting at. Richie stared out the window as the heavy rain rolled down it. It looked as if he were in one of those cheesy music videos where they sang about sad love. Although this was sort of ironic. Richie was sitting here making a decision about a man that he had only come in contact with twice in his life. Wait for it. Here comes the ironic part. He had only seen him twice in a far off distance hopping from rooftop to rooftop, but he had admired this man. The agility of him. The way he swiftly took the shot and left the scene. This man had a strong hold on Richie and he didn't even know his name. Hell, he could walk up to the man on the street and not even know it. He had never seen his face.

"I don't know who he is. I don't know where he lives. I dont know his name. I don't know who his employer is, or if he even had one for that matter. What the fuck do you insist I do Bevvie dear?" The tone of his voice showed a bit of his annoyance. Well, annoyance and frustration. Frustration seemed to be the tone of the night. As it usually was when shit like this happend. They had been robbed of a perfect hit again in the last two months and now they were on the lines of finding new employment. This was in all a touchy subject for the both of them. Then taking in consideration of Beverly, he calmed down. She was only the driver because when Richie found her on the streets, she had nothing. He had taken her in and given her a home when she only had the streets. If the bottom fell out on them, he knew she would be the one to have a harder time with it. She would never find a job as good as the one Richie had given her. Richie gave her half of the profits he had made from each job. Every single bullet that hit it's mark was a split profit for the two. When Beverly questioned him on it he simply stated that he wouldn't have gotten the money if he was caught and thrown in jail. Seeing the logic in his words, she never questioned him on it again. He reached out to touch the back of Beverly's head as she leaned into his touch. "I just don't know what you want me to do about it."

"Richie if you were more careful maybe. If you checked other possible vantage points. See where other blind spots might be, and trapped him." Richie retracted his hand at that. Resuming his gaze out of the window.

"You say that like I haven't already done it. I do that every time and I don't know where he could possibly have shot from. There was no other blind spot except from where I was. Even If I did know where he was, what do I do? Again, still no clear solution. Do I talk to him? Do I ask if he wants to come over for tea so we can work out an agreement?"

"Beep beep Richie." Beverly's clear sign that he had gone to far. Oh well. He had said it with such a sarcastic tone that it even made him roll his eyes. "Maybe if you weren't so obsessed with finding him for other purposes than we could get somewhere." This made Richie's blood run cold. She couldn't have ment it the way she said it. She didn't know that side of him. He hadn't told her.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He shifted in his seat again, aware of the heat burning his face. He was glad that it was dark out so she couldn't see his cheeks turn the color of her lipstick.

"You know what I'm talking about. The way your eyes glaze over when you think of him. How it's so damn hard to pull you back down to earth when you look that way. When you told me about the way he jumped from rooftops, and the way you described his body to me when he did it." A strange fear rose in his throat. He wasn't afraid because he was attracted to a man. Beverly had already known he was attracted to men. They had even shared a few of them in their day. It was the strange fear that she knew him so well.

"Just shut up and drive." Richie mumbled under his breath. When they got home, they immediately locked up and dried off. Then they made the call that had been much dreaded since the car ride. They had to make a call confirming the kill. Although it had not been their kill. Therefore they would get no money and another threat imploring that they would be fired and this new gunman would be hired in their place.

Well that had been what they expected. Instead what they got was a new name on their blacklist. Stan was surprisingly calm when they told him about the mystery man. He just simply jumped into the phone and said something along the lines of not having to pay so it would be like two birds with one stone, or something like that. Stan was always using those weird bird terms for everything. The call ended and they went to bed, trying to get as much sleep as possible before they would have to get up and do their research tomorrow morning.

The next day they woke up to the bright sun and went straight to work. They had checked for cameras in that area and the blind spots. They had circled the block a few times and looked for possible vantage points until they found a good enough spot. They had even logged every person that had walked by, if they weren't living around the area. They say at a small coffee shop on the next block over and just enjoyed the day as It went by. The harsh rain of the night before had made a nice cool day with a rainbow in the sky. When it was getting late, Richie had treated Beverly to a nice dinner before walking back home. They had not taken the car for the simple fact that it would be easier for someone to identify them. As time grew near they had gotten in their uniforms. Beverly wore black leather pants and a black hood that zipped up in the front to make a gorilla mask. Richie on the other hand wore something more extreme, but more flexible. After all, he was the one that had to run around and bend to defend himself if needed. Although it had only come to that once or twice. He had never really gotten caught and that was partially due to his clothing. He had wore a black hood with black jeans that pooled around his ankles. His shoes were black arm boots that were a size to big so no one could backtrack to his foot size. He wore black latex gloves for fingerprints and a handkerchief around his face that had an image of the bottom half of a skull. He had metal chains around his pants, but those were only for design. They really helped if he needed them for locking doors behind him or stabilizing his rifle for the right angle. They were strong for those jobs. When they pulled out of the driveway, they had made small conversation, but had mostly ran the plan back over together. After they were positive that they had it down pat the conversation came to a slightly interesting topic.

"What are you going to do if he steals your shot again?" Richie had already thought of that. In fact he had been thinking about that all day. The first two times he had seen the extremely complicated precaution the man had taken. He had know where he was from seeing him flee the scene, seeing where he had originated from. He couldn't tell last night from the heavy down pour where he had been hiding, but he doubted the man would be scaling buildings in such conditions.

"I've already searched all other possibilities for him to hide, but the only place is our building. Our spot. The only clear shot from one window to the other. I doubt he'll show tonight." Beverly seemed to think about this for a quick second before she had another whole new thought. One that Richie wasn't sure he could answer. One that he wasn't sure he could think about right now, or else it would throw his entire game off.

"What if he comes and you run into him? What are you going to do about him? Are you gonna talk to him or respond with violence?" The question was expected. At least the first part of it. He hadn't thought that if they did bump into each other it could resolve into violence. Shit. Now he was only going to do a halfass job. The rest of his mind would be spent on thoughts of a small interaction that may or may not happen. When he looked to Bev, she had a look that demanded an answer.

"I guess that all depends on his preference, and my mood.... or actions that I may do leading up to that moment. That is to say if he eve-"

"He may show up though and you may just happen to cross paths. You need to be ready for that if it happens. Are you gonna be ready Rich?" Richie sat in silence the rest of the way to the building. Pondering what could happen. As many nights as he had lied awake at night wondering what it would be like, or what this boy would look like if he had come face to face with him, he hoped he didn't see him. He was really praying to God that he would not come face to face with his faceless man tonight. He just wanted to do this job, get his money, and head on to the next assignment. Was that to much to ask in this life.

At the end of that thought the building came into view. He had grabbed his rifle and slung it over his shoulders right when he jumped out of the still moving car. Normally he would wait till the car was almost stopped, but he already was struggling to keep his mind on task. He didn't need Beverly asking one more question that would take up the rest of his thoughts and concentration. As he crawled up the steps to the fifth floor he analyzed the railing. He could slid down this in attempts for a fast get away. Now on the fifth floor, Richie walked to the end of the hallway. Opening the door to the abandoned burned down room, he strode to the window. So far so good. He had set everything up and had gotten his scope out to align it with his victim. He just secretly hoped he was still alive. That this mystery murder hadn't beat him to it. When he looked through his "magic gun telescope" as he liked to call it, he was happy to see his man getting frisky with what looked to be a whore of a slut. This was most likely why he was on Stan's list. But in all honesty, if Richie was a Senetor with that kind of money, he would invest his in the same way. That is if the Senetor would even have to buy his own slut. The difference between Richie and this so called Senetor is that Richie wouldn't be married. He would never get married. These thoughts occupied him while he set up. That was good though. He had no room to concentrate on anything else. He would need to use a silencing piece at the end of his rifle though since the Senetor was in such company. He would also have to wait till she fell asleep. This was going to be a little while as they were just now getting jiggy with it.

It had been two hours and the whore was just now starting to drift. It wouldn't be long now and he knew it. Getting ready, he made sure the kill round was in place. Boy was Beverly going to enjoy this one. Although this man was old and wasn't flexible enough to do anything to interesting, he had a hell of a lot of toys. He may in fact buy one of those for Bev for Christmas. The woman's eyes had been closed and her movement had been silenced for the last twenty minutes. She was asleep. Balancing on the balls of his heels in a squatted position, he was taking stance. He wrapped his latex covered finger around the trigger. Inhale. Exhale. Eyes closed. Pull. He opend his eyes just in time to see the body jolt and the woman shriek. That was his que. He turned around pulling along his rifle carrier and quickly packing it up. He had everything under control. This was just like any other well executed job. He had just slung his rifle over his shoulder like he always did and rounded the corner of the hallway to the stare case when it came out of nowhere.

He had pulled back enough just in time to miss a direct punch in the face. When he had corrected his stance, he noticed who he was looking at. This was the man who had scaled buildings and jumped rooftops. The man who had stolen three paychecks and had either invaded or prevented sleep. This man was the only thing that Richie could see for a few seconds that felt like time had stopped in itself. He was beautiful. The most handsome thing he had ever seen in his life. That was until his wet dreams were abruptly interrupted by a knife that was coming towards his face. It was clear now. His fears were exploited. The man that he had dreamed on talking to and maybe a nice date was attacking him. He Would have to fight back.

Thanks for reading. Sorry for any Grammer errors! This has been in my drafts for a year now and I thought it should finally be posted though. Love you guys and let me know if time should be invested in a continuation!

#reddie au #reddie #reddie fanfiction #It #it 2019 #assassin's match #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #series #drafts

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lowkeysebastianstan · 6 years ago

Note

hey there. I totally get your frustration with endgame and the ending. I wasn't happy and I'm not happy how half the fandom tells me/us how we have to look at it. how we have to accept it. how the actors are happy with it and so should we. how the writers/producers - okay, I'm gonna leave them out of this seeing neither of them have any idea what they have done in the first place. after all they disagree on everything in every interview since the release. and isn't that funny? (1/?)

how even they are not on one side with the movie? what I despise most right now when it comes to this movie and this fandom is how we are treated. how we should tag our “hate” - which I think is funny since I didn’t hate the movie entirely. I hated pieces of it, like I did with past movies. I never liked doctor strange and even back then people were allowed to mention how casting cumberbatch for the part wasn’t the smartest idea they had. (2/?)

people want us to be happy with an ending that doesn’t make sense to us and they appreciate and are “allowed” to shove down our throats with their happy posts about a perfect ending. how is taking tony’s life after he finally married pepper and got a daughter is perfect? how is sending steve back to peggy after they did everything in their power to convince us he moved on from his past life…how is that perfect? (3/?)

you can probably tell I’m bitter. I really am. there’s not a day that goes by I’m not frustrated with what we got after ten years and 22 movies. however, I thought to myself what would it give me to cling on to this on my blog. would it change anything? I do know I’m not alone. I see so many people agreeing with this anger and it gives me some sort of peace. at the end of the day, though, it’s also important to see what it gives to you. (4/?)

talking to one of my closest friends about it and voicing my frustration with the end helps me more than keep posting about it. because in the end it won’t change a thing. the longer I surround myself with the frustration and anger and everything that comes with this not being what I had hoped for the more it pushes me from the fandom. of course everyone do as they please and I get people who want to get it out of their system. (5/?)

but maybe sitting down and look at what the constant repeating will give you in the end, realizing where it might end, could help finding some kind of peace for you. I’d hope for you to enjoy the parts of the fandom that still apply to you. I really like your blog and you as a person and I’d hate to see one of my fave people on this site to leave (I lost count, but this is the last)

whew! hi right back, that was quite something.

i feel ive answered this ask before, was that also you?

i mean, yeah. i know im not alone, i do. i see some of it on my dash, but not a lot, since ive had to block every marvel related tag just to keep from indulging in some light murder (just gentle ones, not to worry), and i really cannot fathom why ppl on the other side of the isle can’t do the same? or if you’re getting tired of the negativity? blacklist. or unfollow, block even.

as ive said a few times lately, ive been here 6 years. and this is the first time ive aired my frustration in any noticeable way. sure there’s been a few occasions where i got the salt shaker out, but that was in relation to much more limited subjects, and it was a post or two at the most.

ive been frustrated with previous movies too, but ive kept my trap shut, ive just gone on, kept my queue stocked, giffed the rare set and hid behind pretty solid content, no drama, not personality, no engagement.

and it’s not too bad, to just be anonymous, to look at the pretty, spread the pretty, do the occasional tag rant, and let that be it.

but.

when i came back after a long hiatus last autumn i started writing again. i posted a psa where i apologised for the fact that i would reblog my writing on this blog, i informed what tags i was gonna use, and for the first time i actually checked my follower count before and after. i lost 20 followers the first day. for posting writing. my writing. that was tagged to a ridiculous degree. and i saw a fair few more disappear before the exodus, and idk. i made me realise a thing or two.

one, people like my blog and the content i post

two, they’re only here for that content

three, to have a strictly themed blog will limit you horribly

four, my followers in general don’t give a shit about me, only about the content i post, which fair enough

five, i care about that, even if i don’t care about the follower count as such, i do care that the ones i have actually like me

six, which is completely absurd bc none of them knows me at all, i never show myself

but that was then. this is now. and the last weeks has made me realise the most important thing of all, i dont care any more. why the fuck should i? when my showing any kind of negativity about something that i did care a whole lot about but i no longer have?

endgame might have killed all my enthusiasm for the mcu, and it fucking hurts. it’s been a staple in my life for years, ive invested my time, my creativity, my love and my goddamn money, and ive got jack shit to show for it. i have a blog that i used to love, but is becoming alien to me, and that hurts too. ive invested a lot in this blog too, after i deleted a few of my other blogs a couple of years back, this is by far my biggest one. and im torn tbh.

do i want to leave it? no, i don’t. can i go back? honestly? i doubt it. if my love for the mcu is gone, well so is bucky. and lets be real, a sebastian stan blog with no bucky? i cannot really see it, can you?

but hey. ill make you a deal, all of you. ill ease up on the memes, i won’t stop bc i have a few scheduled, you guys blacklist or unfollow if you dont want to see them, and ill see about sprinkling in some sebastian content if i can find any i deem worth it.

also i don’t have any close irl friends to air my frustrations with, everyone here loved this crap, and that’s not really the discourse im looking for. but im happy for you, it sounds nice :)

hope you’re having a great day!

eta: i won’t leave btw. not unless the porn hub thing comes into fruition. just so you know, and if anyone cares. just sayin.

eta2: also? the fact that i, or we, are complaining and being pissed at the movie, but the opposition are attacking us for doing that? instead of, again, fucking blacklist and leave us the fuck alone? yeah, doesn’t help with the bitter. if y’all are so threatened by our arguments, maybe you should reevaluate your own, seems you’re trying a bit too hard there. i don’t want to take enjoyment from anyone, i envy you too much for that, but ffs, just leave me the fuck alone to deal with it. (that’s not @ you, that’s to them)

eta3: and thank you for saying im someone you like. but see? ive been trolling you all, im terrible. and i expect you don’t like me as much now anyways. but thank you, it was nice to hear nevertheless.

#anon #ask #answered #anti endgame #see? i still tag it ffs #long post #so so long #hey i get it #the positivity is killing me #i get where you're coming from #but it's getting a bit tiresome to have people just come in and tell me to get over it #no matter how well you mean it #im sorry that i cant just snap and make half my feelings go away #y'know bc that would take away any good ones too #good greif infinity war kinda sucks too doesn't it #wow

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rocket-hopping-simplton · 8 years ago

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SIMPLTONS RULES ,AU'S AND SIDEBLOGS

Simpltons Rules and AUS

MY NAME IS GOLDA AND I AM THE MUN OF THIS BLOG. MUN IS 22 AND MUSES ARE OF LEGAL CONSENTING AGE UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED

i have sjw blacklisted and i think that might be it.

Basic Laws

Be respectful! Do not disrespect my muse or myself out of character. I will not tolerate it. I will not roleplay with you if i even feel a hint of disrespect towards me or my muse. I wouldn’t disrespect you or your muses so please be polite and refrain from doing it to me. However if your muse disrespects mine in roleplay, that’s is completely acceptable as it is an interaction between our muses.

Be patient! I have a life outside of the internet. I am a real human being and not some roleplaying machine.

Mun and muses ARE NOT THE SAME ENTITY! While my muses are of my own creation (in a sense) I do not always share their beliefs and or their attitude. I have my own beliefs and attitude, so please establish that we are not the same people.

Roleplay Laws

Read the information on the character you will be role playing with. That way you can be informed on the character you will be dealing with!

No smutting with minors! It’s illegal, i do not want to go to jail. It’s rude, irresponsible and puts not only you, but me as well at risk. You will get a slap on the wrist most likely. But me? Ill be on the sex offender registry and my ENTIRE LIFE WILL BE RUINED BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO BE SELFISH. So don’t do it. I don’t care if your muse finds mine sexy and they wanna get it on. If you are under the legal age of consent. DON’T FUCKING DO IT. you CAN RUIN AN ADULTS LIFE FOREVER. if i catch you lying, i will BLOCK YOU!

I WILL NOT RP SMUT WITH ANY MLP BLOGS/ GRAVITY FALL BLOGS/ STEVEN UNIVERSE BLOGS/ OR ANY OTHER CHILDREN’S SHOW BLOGS IN THE LIKE. THESE SHOWS ID LIKE TO KEEP CLEAN AND INNOCENT LIKE THEY WERE MEANT TO BE. (although i am open to suggestions of fighting because all have shown that and for a few maybe even death/ slight horror. BUT ASK FIRST.)

NO GODMODDING! It really shouldn’t need to be said but oh well. My character is my own, I CONTROL IT ONLY. The same for you and your muse. However suggestions or a push in a certain direction is fine. Such as “lets go so and so” I grabbed their hand and excitedly pulled them along.” This at least allows for the other person to respond to what’s being done. What is not ok would be something like this. “So and so kissed my muse and they wendt on a date.” this is not ok because you are giving my muse Orders. Only I can order them around. If i feel you doing this the roleplay will be terminated immediately.

No Instakills or permadeaths! I don’t like that shit. If we are gonna fight, i want a good fight, a fair fight, and unless otherwise talked out by both parties and agreed upon your muse, no matter how friggen strong or OP or whatever! can instantly kill or keep my muse dead. Understood? Because if this happens I will immediately terminate the roleplay. Be literate! Please check all grammar, spelling and tenses before posting. Roleplays should be easily understood by both parties. I have a hard time with my tenses so i will do my best to work on that! If roleplays can not be understood then i will cease roleplaying.

Please try to match length! I write a FUCKTON and i do not expect you to match it entirely, i do expect that you have at least a well written paragraph that notes all major points. I will however ask that you make an attempt to match my length, but it is not a requirement. However please let it be noted that if you respond with boring one liners or tiny meatless paragraphs i will cease to roleplay with you.

I prefer to plot! Drop me an I.M and let’s plan ahead what will happen. It’s not necessary but i do prefer it. So just assume i want to plot. However if you wanna throw a meme at me and go from there, that’s fine too.

Please let me know if you want to drop a thread! Now you don’t have to give me a reason, but letting me know you are no longer interested would be highly appreciated. I will delete the thread after being notified so i can keep my blog clutter free. I will also notify you with a reason so as not to seem rude that I want to drop a thread.

Do not bug me for responses/be patient! As i stated above I have a life outside of the internet. I am not a roleplaying machine. If i do not get to your response in a timely manner it’s is likely one of these reasons. A. Life is hectic B. my mental health is not doing well and I need a break. C. I am really engaged with a certain muse and mun so i am putting them as priority. D. I just plain forgot. If you feel like i’ve forgotten drop me an I.M with either your latest response to our thread or a “hey i think it might be your turn to respond.” if however you continually pester me i will drop or ignore the thread. In return do not force yourself to reply immediately. Take your time and enjoy it, let it flow naturally. Shit happens my man, and i get it.

Do not force relationships! I can’t stress enough how INFURIATING it is when people try to force friendships and or relationships with my muses. These things don’t always happen instantaneously, they take time. People need to get to know each other before relationships are established. Let them happen naturally, if they happen. If muses have chemistry it will happen. If they don’t then, they don’t. Not to say that instant friends and love at first sight can’t happen, because it can, but it is exceedingly rare. So don’t force it. If you do, or i feel you are I will first respond through the character, then I.M and if it’s still happening i will terminate the roleplay altogether.

Smut is ok! If your muse and my muse are vibing and they wanna get it on that is entirely alright to do. I will post smut in read mores and i go into HIGHLY DETAILED posts. I will also tag it as nsfw until the smut is over. That being said please abide by the following rule. My muse is not a fleshlight/dildo! If i feel you coming to me solely to smut with my muses with no established relationship or even having talked it out with me first then you will be ignored. My muses are not your sexuall toys to play with. I like diversity in my roleplays and I like CHEMISTRY even for smutty rps. Now it’s one thing if both muns agree that our muses would get along sexually immediately. Otherwise, don’t come to me for smut only. If you do you will be ignored. If you persist, you will be blocked.

Gore/mutilation/torture/death is alright! Just come and talk to me first beforehand so we can plot it out. I don’t like sudden losses of limbs or physical harm. I like to be aware of what your muse is going to do with mine.

Have fun! This is the most important rule by far. Roleplaying is a way for people to unwind and relax, it should be stress free and enjoyable. If both parties aren’t having fun you and I have every right to terminate the roleplay.

Things I am ok with Fighting style school style, adventures, mysteries, superhero, makeout sessions with heavy petting and touching

Makeout sessions with butt touching if shes under 15+ in our rp is ok but the chara also has to be under 18 and close to her age. (I know that shit goes on with people under the ages of 18, because i did it and so did everyone else.) BUT KEEP IT MODERATELY CLEAN (boob touches and butt touches over clothing you know that exploratory shit that goes on in the middle/high school years NOTHING MORE)

THE ABOVE RULE WILL ONLY BE BROKEN IF WE HAVE FIRST DISCUSSED IT BUT MUN MUST BE OVER 18 TO RP SMUT PERIOD!

original worlds and crossovers, OCS ALWAYS WELCOME

slightly kinky things (like being bound, spanked, dressed in outfits, stuff like that) Sex is ok so long as shes 18+ in our rp or we have discussed it.

Multishipping a- ok

Things I am not ok with sex with her while shes under 18, that shit wont play. unless we have discussed it! strange kinks like bodily fluids or excrement and the like animal killing for sexual pleasure child sex i mean really the list goes on but just think about it rationally.

If you have successfully made it through this long ass list please im or inbox me with the following quote “Sun tzu said that!“

Sideblogs

Archive: thesoldiersarchives

Art: simpltonsart-o-rama

Roleplay: storytimewithsimplton

Smut roleplay: sollysmuts

AU (sfw & nsfw)

Aquatic fortress (mer)

Royal fortress (princess)

Dark fortress (evil)

Mystic fortress (witch/sorcress)

Fae Fortress (fairy)

Fur Fortress (were)

Mob Fortress (gang)

Night fortress (vampire)

Ye old fortress (knight)

Jungle fortress (amazonian warrior)

#simpltons rules and au's #simpltons sideblogs

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