#i will help you broad your knowledge about these silly items

[riachuelowii]

I am playing through the Sith Inquisitor story class and let me tell you, I'd die for Talos Drellik, no one is allowed to harm this guy. Do NOT touch this archaeology nerd of a man

[wri0thesley]

Smutty but also fluffy and cute scenario of pesci and his afab s/o having their first time together? (and maybe with some hints of prosciutto being jealous of pesci's s/o?)

first time - pesci x fem reader (3k)

NSFW. 18+ only ! afab reader, fem pronouns. sweet vanilla PIV sex; brief mentions/allusions to cheating. 

You’d always thought, when the time came, that you’d be the nervous one. That you’d be the one with the bitten lip and the fluttering hands, falling over yourself to laugh and stammer and try and take away some of the awkwardness in the air. You’d left it a while, after all - your friends and your peers would tell you of their exploits and you’d raise your eyebrows and widen your eyes and gasp at the appropriate moments and kept your secret held close to your chest. It felt silly, saying it out loud; ‘I’m just waiting for the right person’. Eventually, you’d realised that the right person wasn’t going to come. You’d made your peace with it. You’d looked forward to quiet nights in, alone, and tried to ignore the fact that (whilst it was a perfectly good choice that many people were happy with), you didn’t really want to be alone for the rest of your life. 

And then Pesci had walked into your life. 

He might not have been the tall dark and handsome stranger you’d once envisioned, but you couldn’t deny that you wouldn’t change him for all of the world. You look at him and your heart swells; he says you look beautiful tonight and you’re a flushed, blustering mess. Other people might not see him as handsome, but for you . . . you cannot get enough of his mouth, or the broad shoulders, or twisting fingers through his hair. Your first times for everything had been nervous affairs - your first kiss, snatched as he said goodnight to you in front of your door, his cheeks red as he pulled away. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he’d said, stammering, as he looked into your wide eyes. You’d seen him begin to pull into himself - his shoulders drawing in, teeth dangerously close to biting his lip, eyebrows drawn low over his eyes. And instead of letting that happen, you’d taken ahold of his shoulders and kissed him again, scarcely believing in your own courage. 

He’d introduced you to Prosciutto after you’d been nervously dancing around the concept of dating for two months. The severe blond had raised his eyebrows, ice blue eyes flicking up and down your form, before he’d curtly nodded at you and gone about his business. 

“Don’t be worried,” Pesci had said, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. “He’s kinda like that with most people. He saw your picture on my phone and said I’d done a real good job, so . . .” Your poor boyfriend reddens, suddenly aware that perhaps he shouldn’t have shared that tidbit of information, as you felt your own cheeks heat up in response. He probably shouldn’t have shared it - still, the knowledge that Prosciutto felt as though you were at least good-looking helped assuage your fears that he wouldn’t think that you weren’t good enough for his fratello. 

(“He’s not really my brother,” Pesci had fallen over to tell you. “He’s kinda like . . . my mentor, I guess. I-if you were wondering why we don’t look like each other or anythin’, I know he’s a lot handsomer than I am--”. You’d kissed Pesci on the nose, silencing his spluttering, as you’d reassured him that actually, Pesci himself was far more your type anyway.)

You and Pesci go out with Prosciutto sometimes and you notice that he’s . . . off with you. He lingers a little too long beside you, a little too touchy-feely, a little too much treating you like Pesci treats you. He smirks at you and his eyes travel down your body and you blush because you’re not immune to all of his charms - but you realise what it is one day when Pesci is sick and Prosciutto drops by to give you a jacket you left at their place (Pesci shares a house with several of his coworkers; by all accounts his job isn’t well-paying and he has roommates to help keep costs down) and he hovers in your doorway for a fraction too long.

He’s jealous. 

You guess that nobody has ever preferred Pesci over him before. You guess seeing Pesci happy makes him want it for himself - but any good will you have toward him dissipates at the thought that he’s betray someone he cares about for it, and it flees completely as Prosciutto places a hand on your arm and smiles a crooked smile you’re sure has had people falling at his feet in the past. 

“Can’t I come in for a drink before I head back?” He says, his tone slightly lower than usual. His fingers stroke over your wrist. The flush comes unbidden to your face - he’s Prosciutto, after all - but you wave him away and force a smile.

“No, I really have things to do--”

“Cara,” he steps forward even so, toes just brushing the boundary of your home in stylish expensive leather shoes. He smiles at you again, sickly sweet. “Pesci tells me everything, you know. And you and he have been an item long enough that if you wanted to--”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you snap nervously. You do know what he’s getting at. The thought makes it feel like cats are clawing up your insides. Prosciutto continues to smile at you indulgently. 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted it,” he says softly. “You’re very pretty, you know . . . I’d be lying if I didn’t say I envied Pesci a little. He doesn’t have to know--”

You’re not proud of slamming the door in his face. You spend the entire night stressed you’re going to get a text from Pesci about how rude you were, encompassing some wild story that Prosciutto’s concocted to make you look like you’re the one at fault in the situation. But nothing is forthcoming. 

Maybe he felt bad about it. You hope he did. 

What it does do, though - the whole situation with Prosciutto - is reaffirm that you love Pesci. Prosciutto’s right in that you’ve been dancing around one area of relationships, but it’s not for lack of attraction to Pesci. God, no. 

It’s fear that you’ll be bad at it, or that Pesci will see something in you he doesn’t like, that you’ll be left tear-stained and alone after something goes wrong. But as Prosciutto had made the insinuation he’d very much like to be invited to your bed, you’d had the realisation that you wanted Pesci. Beyond all reason, you wanted to kiss him and hold him and find yourself under him and drink him in, in every way possible. So the next time you two had a date planned, you asked if perhaps he wouldn’t just like to stay in with you and watch a movie. 

-

You’re both crackling with nerves. Your first attempt to kiss Pesci, after you’ve made it to the bedroom, is broken by your shuddering breath as you look at him from under dark eyelashes. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you tell him, nervous and scared. Pesci’s hands come up to hold your waist, making you feel safe in his embrace. His own smile is nervous, his lip bitten just as much as your own. 

“Neither do I,” he confesses. “So . . . that means we get to find out together, r-right?”

Right. You take a deep breath and kiss him again, and as his teeth gently nip at your bottom lip and you trace the lines of his own lips (his lipstick tastes like watermelon), you feel his hands travel down your back to your shirt. Your gasp is caught in his mouth as fingers gently work under the fabric until he’s touching your bare back, and you push yourself into the kiss. Your own hands go to rest on his shoulders, gently guiding yourself until you’re sat beside him on the bed. 

“I can take this off?” Pesci checks with you, fretting, before he goes any further. You nod and duck your head to hide the way your cheeks are giving you away. 

“Y-yeah,” you breathe. “I’d like that--”

The shirt is gently eased over your head and tossed aside. Pesci’s eyes travel down your body; his gaze lingering longest over your chest. His own cheeks are just as damning evidence as yours. He’d already shrugged off the coat-gilet hybrid he wore when he’d come into the living room,and you’re aware asking him to remove the body suit at this point would be unfair - still, you tug gently on one strap. 

“At least roll it down?” You ask him, voice small. “Just to make me feel less exposed?”

Pesci smiles nervous and earnest at you as he does just that - you see the fear that you won’t like his body reflected from your own eyes into his, and before he can apologise for the light covering of softness you kiss his collarbone. 

“You’re so handsome,” you tell him,” trailing kisses to his clavicle. His breath catches. He is soft - but beneath the layer of softness, you can feel what is unmistakably broad and hard muscle. Despite his appearance, you know that Pesci is strong, and the evidence of that is in how he holds you and how he feels and how effortlessly he holds you against him, pulling you slightly closer so he can unhook your bra. 

That fabric falls from you and though you want to pull yourself in and hide from prying eyes, you make an effort not to - an effort that’s rewarded when Pesci’s eyes darken. One of his hands comes around, cupping the weight of your breast in his hand, thumbs working over your nipple so you bite back a whimper of desire. When he hears the noise he leans in, and - checking it’s alright before he does it - he kisses your nipple, licks at it, until it hardens beneath his continued attention. You moan as he transfers his concentration to the other, fingers gently tangling in his hair. You tug slightly as he brushes the sensitive bud with his teeth, and he moans against you in turn. 

He pulls back from you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed and his mouth slightly open. 

“Should we . . . both?” He asks, and you bite your lip. 

“Maybe . . . together?” You reply, halting. Gratefully, Pesci nods, and for a few moments you busy yourself with jean zips and buttons and the sliding down of fabric of your thighs, peeking at Pesci from on the floor. He peels his bodysuit off his skin - and you’re surprised to see how scarred he is. Emotions well up in your chest. You want to kiss every single scar he has, reassure him of how handsome you think he is, make him sigh and gasp and bend into your touch . . .

And then you see the bulge in his tight underwear and your entire face is suddenly awash in heat. You don’t know what you’d been expecting - but you’re not sure you were expecting that. 

Pesci sees your reaction - you’re expecting him to apologise and worry and pull his clothes back on, but he surprises you by just smiling bashfully. Oh, he knows why you’re responding like that . . . the confidence on him imbues you with some confidence of your own, stoking the flames of your arousal low in your stomach, and you lose your jeans completely. 

“You’re beautiful,” Pesci says, entirely honest, as his eyes drink in the sight of you bare before him. “I can’t believe . . .”

His hands skim over your hips, your breasts, your thighs. 

“Do you wanna help me take them off?” You ask, motioning to the scrap of silk and lace that’s passing as underwear. Hey - this was a special day! You wanted to wear something nice! 

“Yes,” Pesci breathes. His hands are warm on your thighs. You feel the fabric stick to the slick valley between your legs and you know from the way that pesci looks at you and bites his lip, all dark-eyed and desiring, that Pesci feels it too. “For me?” He asks, his tone almost teasing. You nod, embarrassed, at the tent in the front of his underwear. 

“If that’s for me too,” you say, and he grins. 

By degrees he pushes you onto the bed, gently parting your thighs. He looks between your legs for a moment; the glint of light on your slick folds, the way your clit peeks out, swollen, from between plump labia lips. He breathes in, deep and needy. 

He touches you first, coaxing you out with soft strokes, the flicker of his fingertips against that same swollen clit. He’s clearly unsure of what he’s doing - but God, how you love him for seeing your anxiousness and taking charge. God, how you love the little smile he gives when you moan or gasp or your hips buck up helplessly to get him to touch you more. 

“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he says, dry-voiced, as he pushes down his own underwear. You bite your lip looking at his cock - thick, flushed, tip ruddy with need. You’d thought you’d be afraid of it - even you, with your limited experience with them, knew that Pesci was packing a sizeable heat - but as it’s revealed to you, and as Pesci bucks his hip against yours so his cock slides slippery against your sex, you find that you’re longing to have him inside of you. 

“I’m the lucky one,” you say, reaching up, winding your arms about his neck, your fingers once more tangling in the green strands. “You’re perfect.”

“No,” Pesci says, smiling. He leans down, rubbing his nose against yours, at the same time as you feel the head of his cock gently breach the first few millimetres of your entrance. Your fingers tighten. “You’re perfect.”

He slides himself in slowly, letting you get used to the stretch of him inside you. Every so often, he pauses, letting you take a deep breath, readjust - and as he reaches his hilt, where you two are pressed most thoroughly against one another, he stills entirely. 

“Tell me when I can move, amore,” he breathes, his voice cracked and straining. You can hear the desire for more in his tone - and you’re glad that he, too, wants to fuck you until you can’t walk straight. The stretch of him inside you is slightly uncomfortable, yes - but more than discomfort, your body is crying out for more stimulation. For Pesci to claim you utterly. 

“Please move,” you reply, instead, and as he pulls out with a slick stroke, you pull him into a messy kiss to hide the needy whines that are issuing from your mouth. There’s nothing, for a time, aside from the sound of his skin slapping against yours. The slick noise of your sex welcoming him with every stroke. Yours and Pesci’s heavy breathing, the way your lips press together and go slack as each of you are overwhelmed by sensation. 

He strokes places inside of you that you never knew needed stroking, alights fire where you didn’t realise one could even be aflame. He fits inside you perfectly, and your body knows it. You breathe out soft epithets of how much you love him and how good he feels interspersed with breathy little pleas. A little faster, a little harder--

He’s eager to please, and he responds to every single request by readjusting himself and making sure that you’re as satisfied as you can be. In return, you grind your hips against him and nip at his neck and kiss and run fingers over his skin, delighting every time he sighs or groans inside you. And through it all, a tight ball of heat in the middle of your stomach makes itself known. It tugs and pulls at you, stoked by the feel of his cock against your inner walls, edging at your vision and your throat until you feel like you’re going to fall apart. 

“Pesci,” you whimper against him, sweat-soaked and breathless, “Pesci, I’m going to--”

“Please, cara,” he says, “I want you too, please come for me--”

And you cannot hold it back anymore. The tides wash over you as the ball inside of you explodes into a hundred pieces, pleasure washing over you as you feel yourself pump slick over Pesci’s cock, your inner walls spasming and clenching around his cock like a vice. 

He growls low in the back of his throat, a noise that might have been a swear dropping from his lips, his hips snapping into you in quick succession three, four more times--

He comes inside you, his face more animal than man, and your body gives another low throb of desire at seeing your shy, nervous boyfriend embrace his instinct more. You’ve always known he had the capability to be more than the nervous, stammering wreck that he thinks he is - but seeing it written so clearly on his face . . . You whimper as the rock of his cock and the emptiness when he pulls out of your soaking sex sends a shivering aftershock through your body, your breathing coming in needy little gasps.

Pesci murmurs your name as he lays beside you, settling down, pulling sweat-soaked skin against sweat-soaked skin to whisper his adoration of you into your hair. Exhausted, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and let your eyes drift closed as you settle into the comfortable and familiar embrace of your boyfriend.

“I love you,” you tell him, before you let the sleep claim you. Your thighs feel sticky from both his come and your own; your body feels exhausted from the rocking against him, from the intensity of your orgasm - but above all, you feel happy. Pleased. Relaxed as Pesci settles beside you. You’re glad you waited for him - a thousand lonely nights would be worth one perfect night with Pesci. 

And you feel very glad that you didn’t take up Prosciutto’s offer. 

A little part of you, deep inside, flares with a thought, recalling Prosciutto’s exact words when he’d tried to cajole you into his way of thinking: you hope that Pesci tells him about this too.

[okay-victoria]

Status of Women in The Empire

Summary: LN gives some evidence women have a better status than they did in OTL Germany. It gives little to nothing in the way of evidence that we are in post-sexual-revolution territory. It presents little enough evidence generally that you can use this issue in your own story as you wish; however, using how humans actually work as your baseline, it would be a very definite handwave to think that gender equality is much more than marginally better than OTL would have been at the time, or that Tanya wouldn’t be negatively affected by it in some significant ways in daily life. On the other hand, the original story handwaves an eight year old enrolling in a modern military and getting promoted to a mid-ranking officer by age eleven, so as a reader, I’m obviously pretty down for handwaving some realism for the sake of a good story.

Evidence:

V1/C1

“The armed forces have a practical exception in place for just about everything.” <= I think in fanon the entire Empire as seen as this sort of “everything we do is logical” territory where gender discrimination would have had to be eliminated, but in reality it’s presented as the military, and they are making an exception for a rare and incredibly militarily useful type of person to be able to be put to use by them without gender discrimination stopping it.

V1/C4

“But in the far-from-gender-free world of “ladies first,” Tanya with her outwardly girlish appearance is, albeit only relatively, blessed compared to the other students” <= YMMV, but I would not describe modern society as a world of “ladies first”. Do people do/say it to hark back to pre-1960s chivalry? Sure. Is it really the standard we live by anymore? Not so much. Tanya seems to pretty definitely still be living in those days.

“Basically, apart from the mage branch, the army is a man’s world. Actually, even most of the mages are men.” <= this is notable because it is said when Tanya is in War College, at which point the war has been going on for long enough that available mages have been conscripted, so there is no selection bias that men have simply chosen to pursue a career as a mage more often than women. This is actually weirdly important because it either means:

Magic talent is like, an X chromosome trait and men are thus more likely to have it [in which case, it would probably be taken as natural evidence that men are superior and worsen the gender equality situation]; or

There in fact is a Youjo Konki-esque exception for married women and/or mothers. A nation has to still be relatively in the infancy of gender equality if Female Mage #102 has children with Infantryman #1,000,102 and the military decides that since it can’t leave these children parentless, it has to conscript the dude who is substitutable for literally anyone else and not the human weapon.

Tanya has a long-ish reflection on women in the military. Important points are, the rules have only been overhauled recently to make it practical for women to serve in combat. Women in combat didn’t really exist prior to this war, and women in the military were basically limited to noble/imperial families having their daughters serve out nominal duties. Whatever boost women as a whole get from serving in a capacity that people are used to seeing men in, it has not had time to transform society all that much.

V2/C2

“Women administrators are not uncommon, but in the Empire where gender equality still has a ways to go, their qualifications are always questioned.” <= YMMV as to what degree this is meant to be a statement on something that still troubles women in modern times, or something that indicates gender equality is not particularly close to modern.

V2/C5

“After all, now that I’ve been turned into a girl, I’m faced with this annoying military framework where men are superior. Just the thought of my promotions being blocked by an invisible glass ceiling is enough to dampen any desire I might have to act all girlish for propaganda…apart from that, the Empire’s personnel system has adapted extremely meritocratic principles for the war, in a way, so I’m more or less satisfied with it.” <= sort of same as above, YMMV on whether this is just Tanya realizing what life is like for a woman in modern society or meant as a “no, it was worse” point.

However, I will say this: I highly, highly doubt any men chosen for high military honors were photographed doing anything other than looking ultra manly in uniform. Women serving in modern militaries are not forced to put on showy dresses when they get their photos taken, they are treated, at least in photos, with the same respect as their male colleagues. The fact that anyone found it appropriate to only photograph the recipient of the highest military honor in cute girl clothes speaks to some deep discomfort with anyone outside the military seeing women not doing what they’re supposed to.

V6/C6

“The Imperial Army has already tapped all the population pools that can be mobilized, but it still has two options. One is to begin the general conscription of women. That said, they’ve already been mobilized in the industrial sector.” <= YMMV, again, on how willing a modern country would be to conscript women to fight a world war, but if you are as deep into a world war as the Empire is and no one’s trying it, at the least we can say the Empire is not the bastion of cold logic it fanonically is outside the military. Also, it pretty much seems like women working in large numbers has only become a thing because all the guys are off fighting, which very much sticks us in pre-1950s territory.

V8/C1

Andrew reacts surprised to see a female reporter from the Federation, and reflects that they are quite liberal in some ways <= while this is a non-Imperial guy, given his familiarity with the Empire, it would seem weird that if the Empire was particularly more advanced than his country that he would still be so surprised.

Other Working Knowledge Your Author Has On This Subject:

Women serving in the military, while certainly helpful to the cause of gender equality, by itself is not going to create a broad-based transformation in society. That sounds a bit like saying: As we all know, the US dropped any racist laws or regulations as soon as we started allowing non-white units in the military. After Elizabeth I serving as the Ruler of England, a very manly role that her tiny woman-brain didn’t fuck up too bad, the people who thought women were naturally stupider than men were quickly relegated to the margins and gender discrimination mostly became more of an annoyance than a real hindrance to the average woman’s goals. It just doesn’t work that way. And I’m not here to say that the US is a post-gender paradise, but the US, which has never had a woman president and is pretty slow about expanding military opportunities for women, nonetheless is a lot better on the gender equality front than some countries that have had women leaders and allow women a fuller range of military opportunities. There’s a lot more complexity to it than: My country respects military => military allows women => guess I’m going to stop being sexist

The same goes for something that isn’t about gender equality at large but how it relates to Tanya: The view that while gender equality may be non-advanced, Tanya specifically is exempt from dealing with it because she is “one of the boys”. It Does Not Work Like That. At All. And the further you go back in time, the less it worked like that. Within the military specifically Tanya will probably be alright, but society at large punishes men & women that break gender roles as brazenly as she does more than it rewards them. This is an entire essay unto itself, Google is your friend.

This is going to sound silly and facetious but I’m being dead serious, from what little we know of fashion in the YS world, it matches what would have been the case in the real world in the WW1 era. If society at large was really that different, that wouldn’t be the case.

There is no canon evidence that magic has made any scientific advancements outside the military sphere of influence. Before the advent of things like dishwashers, vacuums, microwaves, especially refrigerators, and especially laundry machines being common household items, the ideal family model was: one person makes money outside home, one person takes care of house. There wasn’t enough time in the day to work and run a household. Many women in poor households had to work, generally at the expense of being able to keep their own household running smoothly, and even then they often worked in capacities that allowed them to be at home or ones that allowed them the flexibility to take care of some of this stuff. It really just isn’t possible to have a society remotely approaching equality when one gender is automatically assigned to home unless necessary.

Same goes for something else - contraception. Women having access to a contraceptive device that they control is a major component of setting a society on a path towards equality. Birth control pills didn’t become widely available until the 1960s. Without being unable to at least kind of balance the outcome of sex (even between married couples) between men and women, women as a class have a hard time escaping from the housewife-mother archetype.

Not to get too political here, but the Empire matches OTL Germanic-Prussianness too much to ignore. Living under a military-worshipping, religiously-inclined traditional monarchy has not, in any real life example I’m aware of, gone hand-in-hand with anything other than a fairly conservative and patriarchal society, and I feel like the burden of proof is on the other side to explain why that isn’t the case in the Empire, and our original author makes approximately zero effort to do this.

Being X turns Tanya into a woman for the purpose of making her life worse. It seems simply illogical [although I guess Being X’s decision-making skills are questionable] that he would then drop her into a world that had undergone broad-based gender reform instead of a world that was just barely tweaked from our own in such a way that it would allow Tanya to serve in the military.

My conclusion: the most likely option is that gender equality is exactly enough better as it needs to be to allow the military to convince the lawmakers that they should be able to use a very rare & dangerous ability to be part of their arsenal without respect to gender, or age, and no more. That difference is not likely to make life for women significantly better than it was in the equivalent OTL time period.

[jiahlgc]

CHO SOOAH — AESTHETIC #2 & INTERVIEW #1 (BASE X EXCLUSIVE: SOLO INTERVIEW + SOLO PICTORIAL)

sooah didn't want to do the solo pictorial at first because she thought she wouldn't be creative enough to come up with something good. in the end, she went with something very cliche that was used many times before and might even enter in some category of equinox's title tracks, but she goes for the retro vibes anyway, even though there's a very broad meaning to the style. she picks up the route she wants to show off in the photoshoot, and by the end, even though sooah was nervous in the beginning and doubting her decisions, she manages to deliver the concept well.

- what one word or phrase would you use to describe your 2021?

“uhm. i think learning and growth are words that i would use to describe 2021. i’ve learned a lot this year by watching other people, and i tried to improve myself in every way, not only as a performer but as a person as well. i think that this year served as a recharge, so i was very interested in learning a lot of different things and figure out what pleased me the most.”

- how have you and your group grown this year?

“well, it’s silly, but i’ve been learning how to do basic things like cooking since i recently started living by myself, and i’m trying to take better care of my health, too. i’ve also had many amazing career opportunities and interacted with many different people who have different lifestyles, so i wanted to absorb this knowledge, i guess. as a group, equinox and my unnies are just very versatile. i already knew that, of course, but i think that this year’s activities just proved that once more. they have been constantly showing what they are capable of, and it makes me very happy to see them shining so bright.”

- what has been your must-have fashion item recently?

“oh, it’s a bit lackluster, will that be okay? i’ve been into earrings these days, and i’ve come to realize that they can change the mood that someone gives off if that’s their intention. like when someone uses big earnings, you can’t help but notice them, and it leaves a strong impression, no? i like simpler accessories for myself, though. more delicate. my stylist says that fits me better. that it gives me a softer look.”

- how would you describe the concept of your pictorial solo and how you came up with it?

“for my solo pictorial, i thought hard about it, and i didn’t want to do something out of the box because i don’t think i would be able to pull it off, so i decided to go with a concept that i’m more familiar with. i wanted to do something very bright and colorful, so i chose to use a more retro aesthetic for it. since we’re entering a chillier season now, i wanted to give summer a last nod before heading forward with the year.”

- talk about your exclusive x base stage performance.

“that was a big challenge personally because i’ve never performed with a band by myself before, but it was very fun. troye sivan’s fools is a song i’ve known since it was released, and i’ve always loved it, and i always wanted to try and perform it. i wasn’t confident enough to do it before though, but as i said, i want to discover new sides of myself and my work and see how far i can go. i hope fans like it.”

- what are you most interested in these days?

“i’ve been interested in many things. i started doing yoga since i came back from jeju when i recorded hyori’s homestay. i want to try pilates sometime soon too. i went to pottery classes recently, and i’m running again after a while, and painting too, even though i’m not very good at drawing. my main interests recently are related to fitness and mental well-being since i’ve been trying to take better care of myself.”

- what is something you want to do in the future?

“uhm, that’s difficult. there’s a lot i want to do. i would love to have a second season for sooah’s room, but because i want to have more close contact with fans recently, i would like to create a youtube channel, perhaps? take people to the activities i’ve been more interested in these days and talk. i’ve relied on other people’s videos before to help me sleep, so i think it would be cool to be someone solstices could rely on going forward, too.”

- if given the chance to have a say in the outfits of any of equinox's eras, which one would you chose?

“well, that’s a very tricky question. i think that the outfits for our comebacks, despite not being the usual picks for many other groups, crazily fit our image. i think equinox makes it work and fits the songs and the concepts that we work on, so in the end, it all makes sense. i have to say though if i had a say in it, i think i would choose suji unnie’s outfits during zimzalabim.”

- are there any other songs that you would like to cover in the future?

“yes, there are! i’ve been listening to a lot of taylor swift’s songs these days, and folklore was one of my favorite albums that came out last year. i would love to cover one of the songs from that album, to be honest. but besides that, i’ve been listening to a lot of older songs too, from paramore and avril lavigne as well. i’m not very skilled, not as much as they are, but maybe with the right arrangement, i could surprise fans.”

- is there a concept that you were curious about and would want to use it for a comeback or a pictorial?

“i went with what i felt comfortable doing this time. i didn’t step away from my zone of comfort this time, but if something like this happens again, i might be more adventurous. maybe something with a darker aesthetic, and more fantasy-based. a little bit mysterious and spooky. wouldn’t it be perfect for halloween?”

[fanficshiddles]

Seeking control, Chapter 17

Ellie felt oddly vulnerable when she first got into Tom’s flat. She wasn’t sure why though. She’d spent enough time with Tom now, and not to mention they’d been intimate. But it was being alone with him, solely in his care, there was something odd about that. It made her feel… weird. In a way she couldn’t really describe.

‘Come sit down, Ellie. Let’s make that list. I’ll also need to get a list of what foods you like, so I can get some groceries in. At least you won’t have to put up with the bad food now, just my cooking.’ He gave her a goofy smile, that made her feel at ease when she went and sat next to him.

He put an arm around her, rubbing hers softly while he took note on his phone of the items she wanted from her flat. Her phone was one of the items. Along with a bunch of clothes and toiletry items.

‘Excellent. Right, sweet girl. You make yourself at home. You’ll find the water won’t stop on you after a few seconds, because I get the feeling you won’t try anything silly anymore. However, you are able to go anywhere aside from the kitchen, which is locked, just to be on the safe side because of the dangers in there. Only until you’re completely better.’ He gave her a kiss on the head, making her smile.

‘Thank you, Tom. Truly.’

‘You’re welcome. Now, I won’t be long.’ He petted her head gently before getting up and grabbing his things, then giving her another smile he headed out the door.

Tom went to the shop first to get in the groceries. Then he went into her flat when he returned to get her things.

He picked up her phone from the table. One he had previously replaced a few days ago. But the same model, with the same cover. The only difference was her number was different. And Tom had added in all of her contacts but with wrong numbers, all the numbers were dead but he had set it up through one of his high-tech geek friends, so that any messages went straight to Tom.

Going through her clothes, he added in some more that wasn’t on the list but he thought she would like. He also grabbed her iPod and headphones, thinking she would like that too. The book that was only a few pages in on her bedside table, and anything else he thought she might want.

When he went back into his flat, he found her curled up on the sofa with a blanket over her, she was watching a film. She looked relaxed and content for the first time in a long time.

With a soft smile, he put the bags down and went over to her. ‘Hello, darling. How are you feeling?’ He sat down by her and rubbed her arm, noting a small blush on her cheeks when she sat up.

‘Good… So much happier being away from that place.’ She said sheepishly.

‘That’s good to hear. What are you watching?’

‘Pirates of the Caribbean.’ She said and paused it.

‘You know the newest one is just newly out in the cinema.’

‘It is?’ Her eyes lit up slightly. But she never thought she would get to see it, so that faded away quick.

‘It is. If you’re good, we can see how your treatment goes today and tomorrow, then perhaps on Saturday I could take you for a trip to the cinema. If you fancy it?’ He beamed happily at the way her whole face lit up again and this time it stayed.

‘That would be… great! Thank you.’ She laughed in her excitement and flung herself at Tom, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Tom chuckled and embraced her as he buried his face into her hair, inhaling deep to take in her scent. God, she smelled so good.

She suddenly shot back, looking shy and embarrassed. ‘Sorry.’ She said quietly.

‘Don’t apologise, darling. Affection is good. It’s encouraged with me.’ He smiled and cupped her cheek, his thumb stroked her skin softly and set her body alight.

Ellie’s stomach then rumbled.

‘You must be starving. Let’s have some brunch.’ He picked up the grocery bags and motioned for her to go with him to the kitchen.

He unlocked the door and went through, with Ellie following behind him.

‘How do you fancy an omelette?’ Tom started to unpack and put everything away.

‘That would be amazing!’ Ellie never in her life thought she would be excited over eggs.

Tom chuckled at her enthusiasm. ‘Do you like bacon, cheese?’

‘Both good.’ Ellie nodded, smiling up at him.

‘Excellent. You can go and relax if you want. Make yourself at home, please.’

‘I’d like to help... If that’s alright?’ She asked shyly.

Tom smiled and cupped her cheek. ‘Of course it is, sweet girl.’ He pressed a kiss to her forehead, making her smile even larger.

‘Why don’t you crack these eggs for me.’ He handed her a bowl and the packet of eggs.

She went straight to work. Happy to be doing something normal again.

The two cooked the omelettes together. Tom made them both a cup of tea, that Ellie almost cried over. All she’d been able to drink for the last few weeks was water. Then they soon had their omelettes ready, Tom made them perfectly. Ellie’s stomach was so excited.

Tom grabbed them both a tray from on top of the cupboard and they went into the living room to eat. Once Ellie was finished, she suddenly felt exhausted.

‘Uhm… Would you mind if I had a nap? I feel pretty tired.’

‘Of course. It’s no wonder, you need some proper rest now you’re out of the hospital.’ He reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. ‘Why don’t you go have a sleep in the bedroom? It will be comfortable and cosy.’

‘In… your… bed?’ She blushed.

‘Yes. I don’t have a spare room, sorry. But I think we are past being shy now, don’t you?’ He chuckled.

‘Yes… True.’ Ellie nodded, blushing furiously.

Tom handed her the bag of her belongings, she then excused herself to the bedroom. She was so happy to have her own clothing again. She found one of her nighties and climbed into Tom’s large bed. She couldn’t believe how comfortable it was when she sank into the mattress and pulled the large, thick quilt over her.

Her head had barely hit the pillow before she fell sound asleep.

Tom entered the bedroom an hour later, when she was in a deep sleep. He pulled up a chair and sat at the side of the bed, watching her intently. Her hair was splayed out across the pillow, her mouth slightly parted while she slept, very small, quiet noises escaped with her every breath.

He reached out and softly stroked the side of her face, unable to avoid touching her. He was so ecstatic about having her all to himself, in his home. The possibilities about what he could do with her were endless.

He sat back in the chair, eyes still on her while he stroked his beard in thought.

Ellie’s eyes fluttered open, she let out a content sigh with how comfortable she was. Rolling over onto her side, she then let out a surprised squeak upon seeing Tom sitting on a chair by the bed, watching her. He smiled brightly when her eyes landed on him.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, darling. I came in a few minutes ago, just to make sure you were ok. I admit, I got a bit lost watching you, you are such beauty.’ He said softly, leaning over towards her and stroking her hair.

‘It’s… ok… What time is it?’ She slowly sat up, keeping the quilt around her and trying to ignore what his words ignited inside her.

‘It’s 3pm.’ Tom said, checking his watch.

‘Oh god. I slept for ages.’ Ellie rubbed her face.

‘You were obviously needing it, sweetheart. Do you feel better?’ He took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. He was very touchy feely. Not that she was complaining, mind you.

‘I do. Thank you.’ She nodded.

‘Why don’t we administer your treatment? Then you can have a shower afterwards and get dressed.’ He asked softly.

Ellie’s eyes widened slightly, she’d forgotten about her treatment that would still need to be administered.

‘Ok.’ She nodded.

Tom’s cock was already straining in his trousers. He moved onto the bed and climbed under the quilt with her, she was already trembling before he’d even touched her.

He nuzzled her nose with his own, his hands wandering down her body and underneath her nightie. His fingers lightly tickled up her body, making her giggle and setting her skin alight with goosebumps on his trail.

Tom smiled and kissed her, happy when she responded with the same amount of enthusiasm that he had. Her arms even came around him, holding him to her as she pressed up against him, wanting more.

He slid his hand down and into her knickers, groaning when he found her soaking wet already. Nipping playfully on her lower lip, he kissed down her neck and then moved down her body.

‘Why don’t we try something slightly different, darling? To celebrate you getting out.’ He winked at her and disappeared underneath the quilt.

Ellie felt her stomach flip, knowing exactly what he meant when she felt him tug her knickers down and off. He tossed them out from under the quilt and onto the floor, then she felt him move between her legs. She attempted to close her thighs from him, but he growled and nipped her inner thigh, making her squeak and her thighs fall back open again.

‘Relax, sweet girl.’ He growled from underneath.

She did just that. Since she couldn’t actually see him, she let her head fall back onto the pillow and closed her eyes to enjoy it. Feeling his breath dance across her skin, getting closer and closer…

She couldn’t remember the last time a guy went down on her. She wasn’t actually sure if anyone ever had, come to think of it. Not to her knowledge anyway.

Tom’s tongue felt delightful when it slid between her folds, going from long broad strokes up and down to more concentrated flicks over her clit that wanted all of the attention. She’d never felt anything like it. The slurping and growls that came from down below was rather lewd, but highly arousing at the same time.

She could feel his beard tickling and scratching against her soft skin, making her feel even more sensitive to his actions. It wasn’t until she let out a scream when she came, that she realised her hands had made their way under the quilt and were buried in his long curls, tugging as she became lost in her pleasure.

‘Oh my god.’ She gasped, letting go of him, slightly embarrassed that she had got so into it.

Tom crawled up over her, grinning from ear to ear. His lips and chin were glistening wet.

‘My my, darling. That was quite the feast.’ He purred, licking his lips then his mouth was on hers again, forcing her to taste herself on him.

He managed to get his cock out without much effort, lined himself up with her and in one smooth thrust, he was inside of her. Pushing into her warmth and forcing her soft walls to mould around him.

This time, Tom managed to take her slowly, intimately. Full of kisses and caresses, he whispered sweet nothings into her ear. He was just so ecstatic to have her home.

And Ellie… she was happy to be there.

After having sex, Ellie was feeling a little vulnerable. Tom took her to the bathroom and he showered with her, making sure to wash her body gently. He massaged her shoulders too, enjoying the way she relaxed even more under his touch.

But he then noticed she had a few tears that were mingling in with the water. Tom frowned and tipped her chin up, looking worried.

‘What is it, sweet girl?’

‘I… I just… What is this? What are we? I’m confused. It’s not normal for Doctors to have patients staying with them, to have sex… Is it?’ Her eyes were wide and lost looking.

In Tom’s eyes, she was just screaming at him to protect her. To save her. To give her the answers she needed.

‘It’s not normal, no. But we have something special, you and I. Your condition is a rare one nowadays, which causes for rare treatment. But I think you and I both know this has also went further than just treatment… Don’t we?’ He smiled when her eyes brightened slightly.

‘R… really? You think?’

‘Yes. I do think so, darling. There’s no denying on my part that my feelings for you are stronger than just my patient.’ He trailed the tips of his fingers up and down the side of her face.

Ellie never said anything, she stepped into him and pressed her cheek against his bare chest and wrapped her arms around him. Tom smiled and pressed his face into her hair as he put his arms around her too.

[harleyquilt]

The Sin Of Greed (11)

Summary: Touka is given a new client, a client she knows she can’t trust...

Words: 7907

Notes: Hope you enjoy.

A month passed by with a newfound tranquility. The autumn quickly faded in, the summer leaves turning into different kinds of oranges, purples and reds as the branches of the trees are left bare. Touka breathed into her hands, rubbing them together to warm them up from the biting frost of the late morning. She was sitting on a park bench, flipping through a magazine as her eyes glanced past the top of the page. There were a few people in the park today, despite the cold; a stray dog walker, someone taking a quick jog on the path, a mother taking their children to town and a couple enjoying their coffees together, their hands laced through each others. She sighed, leaning back.

There were so many vibrant stories to be had here, the lives of others always close to one another, but none involved or crossing with each other. They weren't her focus for today. With things gradually settling back into the old routine, she now had to spend her time overlooking the children. The older ones - Shio, Yusa and Rikai - had to be trained the same way Yomo used to train her and Ayato. They were interesting kids; Shio was so energetic, whilst Yusa remained quiet yet curious and Rikai being the perceptive introvert. Oddly enough, they seem skilled in their own ways. She knew Shio was an orphan, but Yusa ran away from home and found Rikai along the way, so perhaps they, like herself, trained themselves during the times when they were alone. Even so, they were incredibly sweet.

Shio, at this moment, was asking a middle-aged man if he could pet his dog. He denied it at first, but it wasn't long before he agreed after Shio looked up with teary eyes. Meanwhile, Rikai was chasing Yusa and after a carefully placed push, Yusa crashed into the man, apologising immediately. With him now pissed off, the kids head off, turning around the curve in the path so that they wouldn't be seen. The man didn't even notice his satchel being snatched away. Touka stood from her seat, discreetly walking to the same direction as the children. As she drew near, she saw them gathered around the bag they stole, a few of its items tossed onto the ground besides them. Yusa snatched  something from Shio’s hand.

“Shio, work on your acting. He would easily suspect you to be part of the thievery if you leave straight away.” Touka leaned down and took a phone from Yusa’s hand. “Help him out even. He may even reward you. A reward is way better than a report.”

“But then it’s no fun. Right, guys?” Yusa nodded with his friend whilst Rikai shook his head quickly. Touka sighed and Shio beamed, regardless of her disapproval. “C’mon. You take risks too!”

“I’ve been doing this for longer than all of you combined, greenhorn. Anyway, let’s go. Seems like there won’t be many people out right now. Summer would’ve been more preferable.”

They take a longer route around the park to avoid any confrontation and she took them to a nearby coffee shop, buying them all a muffin and hot chocolates. She sat away from the rest, watching them squabble over who placed the most effort into the theft whilst Touka sipped her coffee silently. Her eyes wandered around the room, taking in the shelves of differently coloured coffee bean bags, the soft lighting and the displays of delicious treats and snacks. It reminded her of how her old friend from school, Yoriko, baked and cooked all kinds of foods to feed her. She was probably the longest friend she was able to have before the death of her parents. After that, Touka only saw her once walking down the street and she couldn’t find the courage to approach her. She even had a big muscled boyfriend holding her small hand. All she could do now was wish the best for her and her future and if she was able to find a more stable future for herself, she may even try to contact her again.

Coffee shops in general sent her warm memories of happier times, or at least the most peaceful. It was the refuge her and Ayato needed when their parents had an argument, a place that reminded her of her best friend’s food and, though she now sees it with spite, a place where she saw the most tender part of Kaneki. Whether he was even sincere during those moments didn’t matter now, though she liked to have hoped that he was. It was silly, yet to see him so open was truly a gift. Over time, it became apparent that it was hard to hate someone fully after having at least one fond memory of them. At least through this, Touka hoped she was moving on positively. Perhaps bumping into him during that event wasn’t a punishment after all.

“Okay, would you rather be a super, mega, ninja thief or a super, mega, silent assassin?” Shio asked, the tip of his fingers pressed together with his elbows rested against the table, staring at the two boys in question. Yusa pouted, tapping his chin in thought and Rikai stared blankly, shaking his head slowly in disapproval. “I, myself, would be the king that must survive against your onslaughts.”

“I would be an assassin then if you had to be king.” Yusa contemplates, wiping off the mustache he got from drinking the hot chocolate. “But killing is so frightening...I’d wuss out.”

“I can’t really imagine any of us being killers.” Rikai added. “But neither of you are good enough to be thieves anyway. Guess I’ll just have to do most of the work again.” They immediately broke out into an argument, declaring they’d kill Rikai first before he could betray them. Touka chuckled at the scene, looking down to see a new message from Ayato. It looked like there was a new client.

For them, they didn’t take on clients too often unless they had something to offer. It’d usually involve stealing something from a rivalling business or a valuable that was safely locked away from their unskilled hands. The rewards for their efforts usually involve money, though there have been times they offered rare valuables and for Yomo, useful information. Even if the reward wasn’t great, Yomo insisted it’d be useful for them to build up a better reputation for more clients, as well as it offering some insurance in the scenario where they are caught. There are those risks of pissing off a powerful enemy, but Touka trusted Koma and Irimi to make sure to steer them away of those cases.

The kids finished their drinks and after paying, they all left to return home, Ayato giving her the details about this particular case. This client apparently wanted an item that was stolen from him - no detail about the item in question except for the fact that it was in a black briefcase with a golden rim. Apparently, this briefcase was in the hands of a drug lord and will be attending a very private party. Fortunately for them, he was able to supply them with a sufficient means of entrance; Touka, and specifically her alone, will play the part of a waitress for the event and seek her out amongst the crowd, which according to him, should be easy enough with the right knowledge. It sounded complex to say the least and she wasn’t sure how she felt about stealing from a drug lord. Crazy leaders weren’t so much her speciality. She’ll hear what Yomo had to say first, considering he was still her boss and still concerned for her wellbeing.

When she arrived home, Ayato was waiting for her and took her to Yomo’s new office that was just to the left of the main hallway past the entrance. They decided to make the upstairs the living quarters, separating their business to their rooms. His new office was just as well kept as his previous one, though she managed to convince him to sleep in a different room for once. Glancing at the exercise equipment in the corner of the room, it seemed he was back at training himself again. He didn’t see the necessity of it before the mafia’s involvement and as far as she was concerned, he hadn’t focused on his own capabilities in strength and such since she first arrived at his place. She always wondered what he was preparing himself for, though they do live in a life of crime, so perhaps there was no deeper meaning to it.

The desk was at the right side of the room this time, away from his other resources in a much cleaner space. Yomo was flicking through some files, frowning and a broad-shouldered man with grey hair sat with his back to the siblings. He turned to look over his shoulder at the sound of the door shutting and Touka had to blink twice before comprehending the sight before her. It was Kanou, the doctor both Rize and Kaneki were hunting for. She looked back at Ayato, but he didn’t seem to notice anything, simply watching Yomo flip through the different files he held in his hand. No, she was the only one who knew who this man was and yet, saying that, she only knew that he was a wanted man. And now he was their client?

He stood then and walked forward, Touka standing her ground, and he held his hand out, introducing himself to her. Standing there right before her in the light, she had a much better look of him. His face was aged, but not entirely withered or unpleasant, his eyes empty and his smile superficial. She knew he was a doctor and he made that especially clear with his white coat. There was even a dark stain on the collar…

“I hear you’re my new client.” Touka shook his hand, his hand as cold as his voice. He nodded and Touka walked to Yomo’s side, acting as if she was reading the files along with him. How complicated. She didn’t want to get involved with this suspicious man, not even knowing why people like Kaneki were targeting him, but she didn’t exactly have a reason to deny his request. She’d have to have a logical reason and she didn’t want this Kanou assuming she was involved with his enemies - that’d be too big a risk to the others. She was sure if she said no to Yomo, he wouldn’t deny her, yet she didn’t want him worrying about her safety again. He had enough to deal with.

“What do you think?” She asked Yomo, praying he’d have a reason to say no. Kanou took his seat and Ayato stood behind him, watching Touka fidget with their parent’s necklace again, something she was doing when she first came into the office. Leaning back and pushing the file back to Kanou, he nodded and she paled considerably. He looked up and asked if she would be okay with the mission. “S-Sure, what’s the reward?”

Kanou laughed, taking a cheque book out of his bag. Asking for the price, Yomo thought to himself for a moment before asking for a large sum. Kanou wrote half of the price and handed it Yomo.

“I’ll pay half now and the rest, along with any additional payments, afterwards. I appreciate you doing this favour for me. I like to keep my business as discreet as possible.”

“Sure, that can work.” Yomo stood then, along with Kanou, placing the cheque into a locked drawer. “Nice doing business with you, sir. Just send us your contact when you’re ready and Touka will get the job done.” He guided him out the room, taking him back to the entrance and as soon as he stepped out, Ayato shut the door, leaning against it.

“What’s wrong, Touka?” He asked, more straightforward than expected. She should’ve known he’d notice her change of attitude. She sat in Yomo’s chair, swivelling in it. “That man,” she began, “I saw him at that charity event and Kaneki was following him. I don’t think he’s good news.” Ayato sat on the desk next to her, crossing his arms.

“You think this could lead to trouble for us? I don’t think Kaneki will use this against you if you did the mission anyway.” She paused at that thought, hugging her knees. He really wouldn’t. “Unless you think he-”

“No, it’s not really that I’m worried about. It’s more that I don’t know who Kanou is. If Kaneki thought he was trouble then, I don’t know, I want to make sure I’m not aiding someone stupidly dangerous. It’s not as if he’s some CEO with a grudge.” Ayato kept quiet for a moment, deep in thought.

“So you want to see him again and check what this Kanou is about?” She tried to reject the question, but it was exactly what she had in mind. Would it be worth it? She could just go on as normal and not get involved, though she knew this would just infest her mind until she either caved in or continue on with these tormenting uncertainties. “I don’t know.” She confessed finally, sighing with some frustration. “Yes, but no. It would be nice if I didn’t have to depend on him for answers.”

More silence followed with her words until Ayato stood up with a sudden idea. “I, uh, have Hinami’s number in my phone.” Touka raised a brow, but he continued, ignoring her questioning look. “You can meet up with her instead, see what she can find. She’s an information broker after all.” Touka  pressed her lips together at the suggestion. It would be a lot easier to meet her than Kaneki, even if not ideal. “Sure, I suppose that can work.” Touka stood, checking the time. “Tell her to meet me at the fountain in town at three.”

. . .

It was starting to rain. She hoped Hinami wouldn’t be late. Touka thought of what exactly to say all throughout her train journey. In all honesty, a part of her hoped she’d ignore the message, but she responded almost immediately to their surprise, and was very willing to meet up. The girl didn’t seem stupid enough to tell Kaneki, no matter how crazy she was. Touka hadn’t really thought much of it before, but it did surprise her to have seen Hinami join in on her rescue mission. At least she wasn’t drenched in blood that time.

With that said, it also perplexed her to feel this way towards Hinami. She was so sweet and kind when they first met, eager to introduce Touka into a more comfortable life in the manor. To see that brightness fade so quickly into a hyperactive frenzy of violence was what probably overwhelmed her the most. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what motivated such a change to begin with, yet she wished she could’ve been friends with the Hinami she first met. Either way, her main focus was information right now, so she’ll just have to place her emotions aside.

Hinami eventually did arrive, holding a bright blue umbrella and dressed in the usual cute outfit of a long green cardigan, white blouse and a black skirt with tights. Her outfit was topped off with a radiant smile on her face, not that it made Touka any less uncomfortable at the sight. She stood, shoving her hands into her pockets and she stood awkwardly as Hinami neared, ready to make her proposal.

“I’ve actually wanted to talk to you, Touka.” Hinami began, surprising Touka. Her lips pursed, not sure if she was meant to reply. “About back in the mansion. I’m sorry.” Touka scoffed at first, stunned at her audacity, but Hinami continued. “I’m not here to exchange your forgiveness for information, I just wanted you to know I regret what I did. As you can tell, you have to be a little messed up to be in the mafia to begin with. Not that it’s an excuse, which is why I decided to leave-”

“Wait, you left Goat?” Touka’s brows now furrowed, not sure what to make of this. “What do you mean you left?”

“I moved out a few weeks ago. I’m going back to school too. I...I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore, Touka. I really don’t and whatever excuse I used before to do so isn’t enough for me now. I just want to be my own person.” Touka remained silent, watching Hinami stare at the ground, her voice desperate. So young and already riddled with such painful thoughts and actions. There was no forgiveness, but Touka did look at her with pity and some agitation. “But I still want to help you, Touka. To repent for what I’ve done.” She looked up then with a newfound courage.

Touka sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Hinami, you don’t have to worry so much about it. I’m just trying to move on now and I can see you’re trying to do the same. If we can just accept that, I think everything will work out fine.” Hinami smiled then, clearly grateful for such words whilst still keeping a respectful distance. She was at least mature, unlike some people. “To be honest, I’m not sure if you can help since you left. I was just hoping you knew something about a Akihiro Kanou.”

“The doctor?” Hinami asked with some surprise. “Are you looking for him too? Kaneki was looking for him before I left.” Touka explained briefly her situation, as well as the fact that she was aware of Kaneki’s involvement and Hinami listened patiently. “I see. Well, there’s not much to say, if I’m honest. I was gathering information on him, but it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. His contacts are either dead, inaccessible or unknown. Those that are known are limited and know only small details. The man is good at keeping himself hidden, but there are a few things I found, along with what Kaneki told me. He trained in medicine for many years, yet despite his amazing intellect and skills, he went freelance and started doing his own...experiments.” Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, her words growing quieter. “He started taking part in many organisations for supplies and research and it’s said he’s making biochemical weapons. What kind of weapons are not known, but his expertise and the threat he carries makes him incredibly desired.”

Touka shuddered, the thought of that briefcase slipping into her mind. “Kaneki wants him to work for him?” Hinami shook her head quickly.

“No no! On the contrary, he hates Kanou. I don’t know if it’s anything personal or something. Besides that, Touka, I really don’t know what else I can tell you. I’m not even sure if my information is reliable, but I know Kaneki knows a lot more of what’s going on. Ah...Of course you don’t want to speak to him, right? If you want to leave it like this, I won’t tell him, so...”

Well, now things are even more complicated. Kanou is definitely not someone she wanted to aid. She aided corrupt people before, but not to this extent. What’s more, if Kaneki is trying to stop him for whatever reason he had against him, it’d make sense to try and gather more help. It wasn’t as if she wanted to help Kaneki, yet he was the only person she knew that could offer this kind of support. Was the universe testing her, taunting her to pick the wrong decision that could destroy her life again? He said sincerely enough he’d help her whenever the need arises and it seemed he was trying to keep his affairs more professional. Which path was the right one to take?

She shifted her weight to each foot, rubbing her head as she tossed her thoughts around. Help Kanou and not involve herself in whatever mess occurs from it. Work something out independently, not that she can actually think of an excuse or a way to hide whatever was in that case that’ll likely be locked anyway. She could call off the deal, even though there was still no reason for it that wouldn’t lead them to being suspected. Or she can confront Kaneki and ask for his aid, benefitting them both.

A sigh escaped her lips and she faced Hinami again, her brows raised with an eager interest. She knew what she wanted to do.

. . .

It had been a while since he visited :re. The cafe was as comforting as it was before, the heavy reminder of past memories still present, the lovely fragrance of the coffee and the setting still pleasant to the eye. Kaneki wondered why Hinami wanted to meet here, though he wanted to see her again of course. Since she moved out, he had been worried for her well being, even though he knew she was fully capable of handling herself. Still, her lack of presence back in his home was something he found difficult to adapt to. It’ll be nice seeing how she was dealing with her new life, thankful he was able to find her a scholarship for her school.

Kaneki slipped off his jacket, shaking the rain droplets off just before he took a seat at his favourite table. He stared silently at the seat opposite to him, remembering how Touka looked at him with those curious eyes that examined every part of him and his words. Now there was only a seat and he was alone. It seemed the rain was getting heavy.

The sound of the rain pattering against the window was relaxing, watching the long trails being left behind as each drop raced their way to the bottom. The puddles erupted with ripples, the light shimmering against the small waves as the soft clouds parted slightly, rays of sun slipping through. It was easier to focus on what was happening around you than what was in front of you, though that was just another way to ignore the present. He was trying his best to keep his focus, he really was. Lately, he worked closely with his partners, his work now his life again, even if there was no real purpose for any of it. As he sat there, he realised there was something mesmerising about the raindrops on the window; they always raced onwards, even if there was nothing at the end. They couldn’t stop moving, even if they wanted, though sometimes, if they’re lucky, they’ll join another on their way down.

But he wasn’t a raindrop. He was just a man sitting alone in his favourite cafe.

Alone.

The door opened and he hoped it’d be Hinami, looking up with a smile to greet her. His smile dropped quickly, however, as his eyes landed on Touka’s figure. She ruffled her short, damp hair, looking around the shop until she saw Kaneki, her movements still. This must be another terrible coincidence - meeting her again in this place - he has to leave before-

He stood with some urgency, his head bowed and his words caught on his tongue as he choked out an apology. She was probably glaring disgusted daggers at him right now, despising the fact that his mere presence was interfering with her life once more. He couldn’t stand the thought of seeing her pained eyes again, like in the casino as she cut his words off, rejecting him again and again. It was just better if he just left in fact - she didn’t need to hear his pathetic excuses of self-defense. It wasn’t needed at all.

Already heading out, he silently continued to scold himself with lectures of self-hatred. That was until Touka grabbed his arm before he escaped the cafe, his whole body tensing at her touch.

“Wait. I want- I need to ask you for something.” Right. Of course. He shouldn’t ignore her. He straightened and turned, Touka trying not to stare. He seemed completely composed for someone who looked so frightened a minute ago. Kaneki watched her expression as everything seemed to stop around them and all he could focus on was her eyes. Those eyes…

“W-We should sit.” Touka spoke finally, struggling to ignore her racing heart. Why was he looking at her like that?  She walked away first, sitting where Kaneki was a moment ago. He followed a few seconds after, a lot more hesitant than she expected. This was going to be difficult. “Well, uh…” Touka coughed, glancing between the table and Kaneki. He looked so natural, with his sweater shirt, somewhat messy hair and regular eyepatch. He’d fit right in if not for his white hair. It was hard seeing him dressed like this knowing all the scars and tattoos that lay beneath. “I’m going out for a job soon, but it’s for Kanou.”

Kaneki’s eyes widened at first, lips pursed. “I see. I hope he doesn’t know your past connection with me.” Touka shook her head and he seemed to relax, even if slightly. “I assume Hinami sent you to me then. I would’ve appreciated the warning, you know.” Despite his words, his voice was teasing. Yet sorrowful.

“Well, I didn’t really expect you to agree without having a meltdown beforehand.” She shrugged, now feeling a tinge of guilt. Perhaps he was better than that now. Perhaps. “I was actually hoping for your...help.”

She explained her situation once again and how he would fit into this as he ordered two coffees for themselves. He listened quietly, simply looking at her with no change in expression and such. It was uncanny how calm he was; she was so certain he’d constantly question every other thing with irrational fury or act petty with aloofness. Knowing him, he could easily switch his moods like that, even if he was seemingly more reserved now. Unless she didn’t know him like she did before. It was too difficult for her to believe he could really change. When she finished talking, he leaned back, drinking his coffee as he thought to himself for a moment.

“Kanou is indeed a dangerous man. I believe he’s currently working for the CCG and it’s the first time I’ve seen him after a few years when Eto was looking for him. I don’t think a man like that should be given anything that could help him with whatever he’s doing right now. I suspect this ‘drug lord’ is actually a woman called Kurona Yasuhisa. She’s one of his experiments seeking revenge, not that I’m any ally of hers.” Biting his lip, he glanced out the window. “You’ll be going to a private event as a waitress, right? If I get myself an invitation, I can meet you there with a replica of the suitcase, just send me the details of it given to you, and before you leave the building, we can swap cases so you don’t leave empty-handed.”

“Is there any need for you to come to the event?” Kaneki smiled then, a devious one she hadn’t seen in a long while. It sent chills down her spine. “I have my own business with the event that I was meaning to attend to after finding Kanou. This task of yours has just made it more convenient for me to fulfill my own goals. What’s the price for my cooperation?”

“Protection would be ideal.” Touka huffed, warming her hands with the coffee cup. His expression softened then, nodding. “I’d still rather not have to ask any favours from you. Not that you’d say no…” A silence followed her words, though she suddenly felt the urge to ask all the questions she had buried since their last meeting. He was right there, quietly waiting for her to continue with that stupid face. What a bastard. “Stop looking at me like that.” His eyes widened and he looked down, apologising. Was he always this soft? Before, he’d make some dumb remark and call her his ‘little bunny.’

“I also want an answer.” She was disgusted at her own words, but she leaned forward and Kaneki met her gaze again. “Why didn’t you kill me in your mansion? I want an honest answer now, no more romantic bullshit. You recognised me, didn’t you? You remembered me from when you killed my parents.”

Any softness from him was then replaced with a chilled seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line and eye narrowed. Honesty was something she knew he wasn’t used to, but now he wasn’t able to hide in the shadows of his hidden past. She knew him well enough at this point, or rather, that was what she hoped. There was no reason to lie to her now after all - she doubted he had any intention of trying to seduce her again. Surely he couldn’t be that stupid, especially when he tried to run away at the sight of her.

“Yeah, I did recognise you.” His answer, simple as it was, left Touka tutting at his words. A smirk soon appeared on her lips and she shook her head, taking another sip of her drink. What else was she expecting? What did she want from a question she already knew the answer for? When will he stop fucking looking at her? “It was just a job, Touka.”

“That’s one way to sum up how you ruined my life. My family were my entire world!” She was almost yelling at this point. All he did was nod, expression empty. “You won’t forgive me and I don’t really want you to.” Kaneki added, not daring to look away. “What’s the question you really want to ask then?” She snorted at his attitude, at his audacity. He acted as if he actually knew her. Asshole. “I know you won’t say it. You want to know why I kept you around, right? I don’t really have an answer, I just didn’t want to let you go again without doing anything about my past mistakes. I guess I wanted redemption for what I did to you, though I don’t think those intentions lasted very long. There was just something I really admired from you and your strength and I wanted to know you better because of that, to make me understand the consequences of my actions-.”

“Don’t try to flatter me.”

“Do you want an answer or not?”

She stood, paying for her own drink as she pulled on her jacket. Kaneki stood, watching Touka become consumed by her hatred for him. “No, I don’t.” She snapped. He grabbed her shoulder, turning her to him and she stilled, his touch like a blistering fire. “Don’t touch me-”

“If I wanted your forgiveness or love, don’t you think I would’ve tried something by now? I’m not trying to hurt you again, Touka, I want to help. We don’t have to part hating one another.”

“Help with what? You’ve already done enough.” She stared up, both with yearning and pain. “When you say all that shit, it just makes me want to forget that I hate you. But I can’t. What’s done is done and...I can’t forgive that. A part of me wishes I could, but-” She stepped back, his hand slipping from her shoulder. When will he stop looking at her like that? “I...I’ll get Ayato to give Hinami the files and I’ll meet you at the party.”

She left without another word, her heart conflicted in ways she couldn’t understand.

. . .

It was almost a week before Kanou contacted them, which she was somewhat thankful for. It allowed her time to cool down after meeting Kaneki, regretting how she allowed herself to escalate the situation into something dramatic. The main focus right now was the task at hand and with Kaneki’s help, everyone should be left satisfied with how things should turn out. Or at least for Kanou, temporary satisfaction.

A car stopped in front of the house and she left after a quick debriefing from Yomo. The black case with the golden rim, the drug lord that’s a woman with a scar, her role as the waitress a way to encounter her. Kaneki will be easy enough to find and she wasn’t going to freak out like she did in the cafe. That was if he turned up in the first place.

She didn’t see the driver when she slid into the backseat of the black car Kanou sent, though that didn’t bother her too much. Rather, she was remembering how she was first invited into Kaneki’s limo with Miza, the way she introduced herself in her mundane clothes and white suited bodyguard. Back then, she was unnerved, being told to be a mafia lord’s date for a night of mischief. She almost envied how simple it was then, even if it wasn’t the most pleasant moment in her life at the time. The car eventually slowed and stopped in front of an unlit building. It looked like any other shop on the street, wedged between two others. She almost wouldn’t have been able to tell which door to go through if it wasn’t for the white masked figure standing in front of one. She had her hood up, probably to keep herself hidden, and she wore a eerie smile as she beckoned Touka forward.

Opening the door, she led Touka down what looked like a barber shop and through the back, they walked down several flights of stairs. She lost her footing every now and again in the near pitch blackness. It was a miracle when they finally reached the bottom, the woman holding back a red velvet curtain to a rounded room, a large archway leading to what looked like a crowded area and another door for employees on the right. The woman took her into that room, moving past a kitchen and several doors that led to other storage rooms until they finally reached a dressing room. There were women set up in...particular outfits with different, yet a distinctively recurring, themes. Corsets, fishnets and a whole lot of masks. Ah, shit, this was a Eyes Wide Shut-esque event, wasn’t it?

“Uta. I’ve got Dr. K’s special guest here.” She nudged Touka forward and she was greeted with an interesting looking man. Tattoos covered his arms and hands, a latin phrase on his neck, his hair half shaved with his bangs only partially covering his red eyes. She yelped a little at his sudden appearance, though he gave a friendly smile as he chewed on some gum.

“What a cute girl.” He offered what looked like candy in the shape of an eyeball. “Want one?” She shook her head slowly, asking what it was she was supposed to do. “Hm, well why don’t you tell me your favourite animal is first.”

“Uh...rabbits.” He gave a nod and turned to look through the wardrobe behind him, explaining he was the dresser for the event, designing the costumes for these people. “I had the feeling you would pick that judging by what I’ve heard about you.” Touka stared with a nauseous confusion. They knew who she was? “I’m a good friend of Yomo, so I’ve heard about you a lot.”

“I didn’t know he had a friend like you.” How could she not have known this. She knew he went out often on his own for private business, but to think this kind of guy would be his associate was...unexpected. Uta nodded cheerfully, handing her an outfit that made her shudder. “Do I really have to wear this?”

“Trust me, it’ll look great on you. It’s a masquerade party after all.” He then handed her a mask, promising her it’ll be worth the efforts.

This was it. The worst moment of her life. Yes, definitely this. She looked with horror at her bunny suit, a bowtie collar around her neck and shirt cuffs on her wrists and a damn fluffy tail right above her ass. Her mask covered her eyes with bunny ears on the top and to keep her completely hidden, Uta gave her a pink wig to top it off. She was definitely going to make Kaneki and Yomo cough up their money to her.

Uta of course praised her, turning her this way and that to see if everything fitted and he handed her a silver tray of snacks, shoving her through the door to the main room. It took her a moment to take in her surroundings. It seemed she was on a higher floor, the whole room rounded and a balcony looking down at the other floors, along with a big arena-styled floor a good few feet below. Everyone was dressed for the event, the men in their pristine suits and the women in their alluring dresses, all of them wearing a wide array of masks that all somehow hid their identities. By what she could hear, no one ever called each other by their given names, but rather through simplistically coded names. It was such a strange sight, a place you never would think of existing before.

Carefully, she made her way past different groups, observing the different floors for both Kurona and Kaneki. It seemed the lowest floor had a more exclusive set up. A privileged view of whatever it was they were expecting to see below. She started to walk down to the second floor, a few more people gathered in this particular section. As she wandered around, blending in by playing her role, she bumped into a man with a strange clown mask. She apologised, but he continued staring at her, watching her as she moved away. There was something...odd about him. Then again, she was in a odd setting to begin with. It was probably better just to ignore it.That was when she felt a hand on her arm and she turned to see a white haired man in a black mask. Kaneki.

“Miss, I could use your assistance. Could you follow me?” She nodded and followed behind Kaneki to a more secluded area, placing her tray onto a nearby table. “That’s a nice costume…”

“Keep your eyes up and mouth shut. Anyway, what are you supposed to be?” His mask was odd, a lipless mouth with bared teeth covering his lower part of his face, and with a matching eyepatch. Only his right eye was exposed.

“A ghoul, I think. Not sure if I really understand it myself.” He pulled down the mask and she noticed a blush was apparent on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, but is there a jacket you can use. That costume is really distracting me.”

“Give me the case before I stab that other eye.” He handed her an identical looking case, the weight not too light. Handing it back, she hoped it’d be enough to fool Kanou. “That’ll work. Now I just need to get that case from Kurona. Any advice?”

“She won’t let go of that case without a fight. You should take advantage of the main event when it starts.” As he finished speaking, the whole building dimmed and the guests started to grow excited, a buzz of anticipation building up. They gathered by the banisters and pushing through them, Touka stared down to the ground where three people stood, confused and terrified.

A large gate was lifted and the crowd cheered, clapping their hands in excitement whilst a huge, monstrous looking man stumbled out. His face was covered with a blood red scarf, his bloated torso exposed as he dragged a bonesaw behind him. The frightened people began to panic, one calling out for help, another standing paralysed and the third starting to scramble away, slamming their fists against the wall. Touka paled, quickly heading away as the cheering drowned out the tortured screams. Kaneki stood, watching Touka shake her head with disgust, wanting to comfort her.

“Where’s Kurona? I want to leave as soon as possible.” Adjusting her mask, she straightened and composed herself, Kaneki taking her down to the lowest floor. The screams from the arena were so much louder. They kept close to the shadows and pillars, edging their way around with a slight distance to one another until they caught their eyes onto one particular table. A woman sat alone, a case on the table in front of her and her fingers drumming on the table beside it. She wore a low cut robe that dipped down to just beneath her abdomen, her hood lifted over her pale head. A large, ragged scar moved from her eye to jaw, her long light hair barely covering it and there were more scars covering her stomach and exposed arms. She was a disturbing sight to say the least, though her face held some beauty with those sharp, cold eyes.

Kaneki stared, a smirk appearing on his lips as he lifted his mask again. Looking back, Touka examined Kurona’s surroundings. With everyone busy watching the ‘show’, she was alone, barely paying attention to the people around her.

“Why is she alone? She doesn’t seem to be enjoying the event.” Touka commented. “A business deal, I suppose. Probably why she’s carrying that case with her to begin with.” Kaneki shrugged, lightly tugging Touka back as Kurona’s gaze wandered to their direction. “Doesn’t seem her contact is here though. It’s likely Kanou has already dealt with that issue so that you could take the briefcase.”

“What does she gain from selling it? It’d make sense to simply destroy whatever Kanou could use if she had a grudge against him.”

“Information or perhaps trying to use Kanou’s own weapons against him. She’s still bloodthirsty for Kanou and is trying to find him as much as the rest of us. I would like to team up with her if it weren’t for our previous encounters.”

Touka noticed a tray of drinks on a buffet table near them and she picked it up, ready to make her move. “I’m going in. Watch my back.” She whispered as she walked past Kaneki. Nearing Kurona, she forced on her best smile and offered her a drink. Before she could answer, however, she tipped her tray and the drinks spilt all over her and her case, making her stumble onto her feet in fury. She cursed Touka, demanding for her to clean it up and thankfully for her, no one was paying attention to her agitated yelling. Grabbing some napkins, she offered some to Kurona and as she was busy wiping off all the alcohol, Touka tried to discreetly grab the case, insisting to wipe it off as her hands wrapped around the handle.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She grabbed Touka’s wrist, her grip tight and firm, nails biting into her skin. Her cold glare quickly filled with a heated anger, her jaw clenched. Tugging her wrist back, Touka instinctively flung the case towards her head, but she ducked down, punching Touka’s stomach as she did. Touka stumbled back, but kept a tight hold of the case, Kurona straightening and grabbing a sword she kept behind her chair. “You must be working for Kanou. Shit, no wonder my contact didn’t come.” Touka held up the case as Kurona lifted her sword back, her teeth gritted. “He’ll know not to fuck with me once I’m done with you.”

Kaneki leaped forward, pushing Touka back and he lifted a chair as Kurona brought her sword down. The blade cut into the seat and pulling it back, she tripped into the table, the hilt slipping from her hand. Tutting, she grabbed the table and threw it against Kaneki, knocking him back and grabbing the blade wedged into the chair’s legs. She pressed her foot against the chair and pulled her sword free with ease. With a cold sweat forming on her brow, Touka stepped back nervously, Kurona advancing on her.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing for that old fucker? Do you have any idea what’s in that case? Just take a good look at these scars and maybe your dumbass can understand what exactly you’re doing.” Touka looked down at the case, glancing at Kaneki shoving off the table on top of him. Gripping the case, Kurona raised a brow, holding up her sword once again. “Well, when you put it like that…” Touka sighed and suddenly threw the case towards the surprised woman. She dropped her weapon and Touka dashed forward, grabbing the hilt as it fell.

Except, the sword turned out to be incredibly heavy. Kurona stared, watching Touka barely lift it an inch above the ground with her arms shaking at its weight. Looking down at the case, Kurona stepped forward and threw her fist right for Touka’s jaw. She flinched but the punch never came. Opening her squeezed shut eyes, she found Kaneki keeping hold on Kurona’s arm, his glare deadly.

“Kaneki…? What the hell. Is that-” He slammed his head against hers and a final punch knocked her out. He took her case as she fell and Touka decided to let go of the sword, clearly trying to act off her embarrassment. He took her arm gently and they moved away from the destruction of the scene whilst everyone was still distracted by their murderous show. Finding the replica case, they swapped the two and they both headed for the exit, Touka pulling off her mask and wig.

“You could’ve used your gun, idiot.” Touka muttered.

“It would’ve been too loud. Besides, I thought we managed it pretty well together.”

They were by the entrance by the time they finished talking and Touka shoved her regular clothes into her bag, Kaneki watching her prepare herself to leave whilst tugging his own mask off. To her surprise, he took off his jacket and wrapped it around her, his gaze soft as he examined her.

“You’ll be cold dressed like that. Oh and don’t worry. I won’t be using what’s in this case for anything sinister.” He insisted, though she was somewhat baffled by his gesture and more so by her confidence in his promise. “Now, I have to finish my work here, but if there’s any complications, remember to let me know.”

She rolled her eyes at his casual offer, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by her annoyance. He was just looking at her, eyes moving down to her lips as he pressed his together. A hand moved up and she urged herself to leave, though her body stubbornly remained as his hand rested on her cheek. No, this was wrong. What was she doing, allowing him to be this close? Yet his hand was so warm against her. He leaned down, lips inches away from hers and he hesitated, his eyes half-lidded and Touka quivering.

“Sorry. You should leave.” He pulled back quickly and started walking down the hallway. He paused at the archway, Tsukiyama appearing at his side with his own mask and he barely offered a look at Touka as the doors shut and locked. She wavered, not exactly sure what she expected, but it wasn’t long before there was a loud sound of a gunshot being fired, followed by screams of terror. Business as usual, it seemed.

She got what she needed. No use waiting around.

[maracarubber40-blog]

Article Marketing: An Easy Online Business For You

Every membership you obtain from these back again hyperlinks will assist develop your e-mail marketing list. There are so numerous issues you can do to show your clients that you worth their company. For a software telemarketing firm, IT lead era is a severe business. Put that in the context of business-to-business or B2B prospects, then it's heading to be a extremely difficult affair certainly. Let's face it, telemarketing is a costly and time-consuming job. Contemplating those difficulties in thoughts, it's only natural that you would want to attain the right clients with the least quantity of phone calls to make. Not only that, you would want to be sure that the individual you are going the call is precisely the choice-maker of the firm. You'd also want to be deathly-sure that the number you dialed is not in the Do Not Contact registry of the FTC. Good judgment. In brief, they have the needed company insight. They have a broad understanding of their business values. B2b revenue experts are currently business managers. Their clients don't consider on their services for their revenue knowledge. They're being employed in order for the customers to obtain a greater know-how of their business, their limitations, their issues as nicely as their opportunities prior to showing any company-related options. Industry Particular #HashTags - Hashtags are a fantastic way for individuals to navigate their way via a conversation or to preserve a topic of conversation. Are you an expert in some thing? Start a hashtag or start utilizing 1 that other people are currently utilizing. If you are trying to entice little company's interested in PR, you might use #smallbizPR. This way somebody can monitor the discussion and see who is involved in the topic. This will assist you be discovered. It will also help you uncover other interesting B2B Twitter individuals to adhere to! If you require a business to assist you out, then you just have to say it straight. Talk it over with your buddies and family associates. Who knows, they are interested companions. If not, Business to Business can provide you with prospects. 7) Phrases are your ally. Don't squander time obtaining too flashy with your emails. Certain, somebody may discover it aesthetically satisfying, but the legibility of your words should be your primary problem rather of pictures or designs. Wouldn't you concur that most individuals read letters a lot more than they sit about and view them? Intrigue your audience with your intelligence, humor and business to business honesty. By swapping, your video gains more viewers via the other website proprietor/blogger's website. Keep in mind to include a link back again to your website or to your item. Every visitor who clicks on the URL will be a possible subscriber and an email list client. Sounds silly doesn't it. But daily people are looking for that "Magic Pill". The one thing that will assist them lastly leave that occupation, gain that wealth, purchase that home, and reside a better lifestyle. I contact this the "Magic Capsule Syndrome". Individuals leap from program to program from company to business looking for that easy road to wealth. Unfortunately, the only place that Magic Tablets work are in movies and fairy tales. Proving your concept is viable means figuring out if the market will purchase your product or service from you at a cost that can be profitable. What is the best assure of obtaining accurate information? Actually close a sale! You can sell a prototype and deliver later on; you can promote somebody else's product or services that you buy wholesale; you can even sell the product or services and just go back the next day and refund the cash, describing you have a delay in your capability to deliver. Sure, you might lose a sale, but at minimum you'll know you can really make that sale! This confirmation is worth the world to you in Degree 1 when you are wondering if you can promote your product or services at a lucrative price for your Business. You can't walk into a piece of land and start planting without first cultivating. For every type of crop there's a completely various type of cultivation. In fact, it is the sheer artwork of cultivation that transforms an normal piece of land into a farm. You cannot cultivate a piece of land to plant oranges then all of a sudden alter your thoughts following cultivation and started planting corn. No, you would have to cultivate the land all more than once more to accommodate the corn you now want to plant. Different crops require various cultivation. After all, there's still much to explore in the improvement of little and medium B2B web sites. In an very promising industry, anyone can make as nicely as split the guidelines.

[perfecttimemachinestranger]

Scritches, part 4

Part I  Part II Part III 

Summary: Even fearsome demonic beings need to enjoy a few simple pleasures in (after-)life. For Krennic, one of them is scritches. (1950 words, sfw fluff)

Characters: Angel!Krennic, Demon!Lyste, Demon Squad Anon

 For some background, or simply more of the ‘charming’ Angel!Krennic, see @imperialgradients’ Necroholocron!AU masterpost

You awoke to the sound of a blood-chilling scream. Director Krennic was standing in front of you and Lyste, with his arms raised and his fingers bent, showing off his claws in a classic monster pose. His wings were standing right out and demonic hissy growl came from his throat. The reason for this display, the crewmember your bunk had been reassigned to, cast a panicked glance at him and ran.

“There,” he declared contentedly, slapping imagined dust off his hands as he folded his wings. “That commoner dared attempt to touch you.”

“Oh no,” you groaned. The poor woman had probably just wanted to help by making sure you didn’t fall asleep at your post. “Please don’t do such things! She’ll fetch someone higher up and I’ll be in so much trouble.”

“Whatever deplorable reinforcements she may muster will not encounter you here. Up!”

You scrambled to your feet, standing to attention with the broom at your side. Little Lyste opened one beady eye, then yawned and went back to sleep on top of your uniform tunic.

“You will accompany me,” Krennic stated after a casual inspection that involved correcting your pose and straightening your cap. The lack of tunic went without comment.

He looked pleased, and even hummed a little as he started walking. You followed him, three steps behind, which treated you to a fascinating view of not only his flowing cape, but his wings. They were erect, further accenting the director’s elated mood. “May I ask where we’re going, sir?”

“You may.”

“Where?”

“Officers’ mess in section 1445.”

“Pardon me, sir, but I’m not allowed in there.”

“As my escort, you are.”

To your surprise, you weren’t only allowed to take up post just inside the door, but mostly left alone in spite of the ridiculous broom and your incomplete uniform. You were even offered a delicious soft drink by a cadet, whom you highly suspicioned was a fellow member of the demon squad.

The director was in his true element. He drank with everyone, and there were many offers. He made a striking figure and was in an animated mood, always the centre of attention in any group he found himself in. Studying him, you really got it – it had indeed been silly of you to imagine this being having any need of help from you.

Suddenly you saw him veering away from his present company with a glass of dark wine in his hand. “Try this,” he told you in an almost friendly manner. “It’s an interesting vintage.”

“Sir, I shouldn’t, if I’m to be useful to you.”

“Taste it,” he said and curled his lip, showing off a perfect fang. “The corpse may have decided to poison me.”

Even the small sip made you cough and sputter, aghast that the Governor would resort to such methods. “You’re right! It tastes awful!”

“Slightly metallic, with a note of tar?”

You nodded. “Do you know this poison?”

“I am very familiar with it.” He took the glass back and took a sip, then licked his lips. “A delicious vintage. Completely wasted on the untrained palate.”

Being untrained in this sense suited you perfectly, but it was not to be.

“Now this,” said the director. At a lift of his chin and a tilt of his head, the bartender handed him a glass of liquid amber.

Your tongue curled already at the mention, anticipating the burnt, bitter taste of brandy, but when Krennic’s gloved hand put the glass to your lips, you opened your mouth and drank. Mercifully, one sip was enough to satisfy him. Your throat burned, but pleasant warmth was gathering in your belly and you were beginning to feel just a little bit dizzy. Straightening your back, you took a harder grip around the broom stick. “It’s okay,” you reported. “Not tampered with as far as I can tell. Sir!”

“The cadaver is growing lax. How disappointing.” He took a healthy swig of the brandy, closed his eyes in bliss as he seemed to swirl it around in his mouth, and then turned back to his companions.

During the evening, your thoughts wandered between watching the director with fascination and wishing you were one in his merry company of officers, and staring at the far wall or the ceiling and hoping he’d like to go somewhere else soon. Even if somewhere else was just a deserted corridor with a hard floor.

Then, suddenly, the people in the room parted and an enraged Krennic came striding towards you with clenched fists and flitting wings. Your heart was near stopping.

He was beautiful in that moment, terrible and all-consuming, as if the impending impact would inevitably terminate you and you would be glad for it. Then, a fraction of a second before he bore down upon you, darkness lifted from his gaze and he smiled. It was a tiny thing, just the ghost of a smile, but it was enough. The moment he crashed into you, you were not afraid. You were pressed against the wall, and then you had a little more space, but his hands held your head in a vice-like grip and he bent his neck, and his lips –

The kiss lasted only for a moment and it left you breathless, as if he had sucked all energy out of you.

“Why?” You couldn’t help asking, your voice an astonished whisper. “Why did you do that?”

He waved his hand dismissively towards the room and now you were suddenly aware of the cheering around you. “They… they dared que-question my au- whatever. I need a drink.” As if having second thoughts, he turned around, pinned you with his gaze and slurred, “You din-nt mind.” Turning back again, he shouted for more drinks.

You groaned. Once the tasting duty was over, you had begun to sober up, while Krennic was by now unsteady on his feet. Still, it was true. You hadn’t minded that weird kiss the slightest. Even considering his fangs, and knowing he had only done it because he was drunk and riled up by some stupid bet. You sniffed the air. The potent scent of his cologne seemed to linger where he had touched you. A scent of credits and class it was, far beyond your level.

Later, as the crowd thinned out, the director’s companions leaving or falling asleep in a drunken stupor, your desire to do either of those became stronger. Krennic eventually lifted his head from the counter, looked around dazedly and then staggered to you. He put a hand on the wall for support, then lifted his head and breathed alcoholic fumes into your face before he spoke.

“I’ll... I’ll tell you something.”

“Yes, of course.”

“This-s very ‘mportant.”

“Okay.”

“You,” he said, pressing a sharp claw into your chest while he fixed his strange eyes on you, “you have no idea what they call the skeleton’s office.”

“No, sir.” You had a pretty good idea, actually.

“The Grand Moffice!” He burst out laughing, fluttering his wings and slapping his thighs, thankfully in no state to notice your lack of reaction. Nor did he appear to be in a state to rise on his own accord. You leaned forward and put your right arm around his waist, while he flung his left over your shoulders.

“Take me home,” he declared imperiously, then snickered. “No moffice today… today… eh.”

Half-dragging the drunk director to his quarters was an exhilarating task that only succeeded thanks to a petty officer who saw your predicament and came to your aid. She also happened to know the exact location of Krennic’s room, much needed knowledge as the demon himself, when asked for direction, often couldn’t be bothered even to open his eyes.

The director’s quarters were impressive. So much space, and huge viewports in every room. The design was simple, and furnishing much more minimalistic than you’d think would be his taste. There appeared to be no personal items, and very little in the way of belongings at all. The impression was almost of a place raided, but perhaps Krennic just care much about owning things, at least not in this form. The dust that covered most surfaces seemed to confirm this.

His bed was luxurious beyond imagination, broad enough for three people at least, and when you carefully deposited your burden on it, it didn’t creak, but gave way smoothly. You sat down in an effort to arrange the already half-sleeping director’s limbs more comfortably, and felt how your own exhaustion engulfed you. If only you could stay!

“Undress me,” came a haughty command given in a surprisingly clear voice. “I won’t sleep in boots.”

As soon as you had pulled them off, the next order came.

“Cape.”

You took the garment and reverently put it over a chair, recalling with fondness what an excellent blanket it made. Next went tunic, socks and trousers, until Krennic was dressed only in boxers. The old blaster scar on his shoulder was nothing you hadn’t seen the likes of already, but the inverted cross shaped scar on his front chilled you to the bone. It was just a thin line, but there was something malicious about it. It just had to be from when he was made into a demon. A sudden feeling of affection came over you, a strong wish to protect him, whether he needed it or not.

A loud snore interrupted your thoughts.

Asleep on his belly, Krennic looked innocent like a child. You stroked his hair fondly, something he’d seldom let you do when awake, then gave him a couple of long, deep scritches between his wings.  You wondered if being a demon felt very different from having a human body. Perhaps you could ask him in the morning, unless it would be considered rude. Maybe demons didn’t care to talk about their previous lives.

With so much space available, you decided to ignore the voice inside your head that said your place was outside. You lay down but sleep wouldn’t come. You shouldn’t be there. With a sigh, you rose from the bed and went to the door. Wait, what was that? A purring sound, familiar by now.

“Lyste? Are you here?”

A soft shape touched you and you jumped. The purr was interrupted by peals of laughter. Shaking your head fondly, you set out for the main door again, only to find it blocked by the smaller demon.

“Let me out,” you whispered. “Please! I shouldn’t be here.”

Nothing helped. Small form aside, Lyste was strong and you found yourself physically unable to get past him. It didn’t exactly help that he behaved as if your struggle was only for fun.

“Okay,” you finally told him. “I give up. I get it. You want me to stay, but for what reason I can’t imagine. I need sleep so badly.”

Lyste whimpered and his ears drooped adorably. Then he pointed towards Krennic’s bedroom.

“In there? You can’t be serious.”

Lyste clenched his jaw and crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking very serious indeed.

“Okay, okay.” You tiptoed back, and found the larger demon sleeping like before. The bed was so spacious; your presence couldn’t possibly disturb him.

Lyste pulled insistently at your trousers, then your shirt. Off with them. Yes. At this point, you’d do anything for a chance to get some sleep. A final glance at the smaller demon confirmed that this was what you must do. With a sigh of pleasure, you lay down, flat on your back, too sleepy to think about protesting. You felt rather than saw the blanket being placed over you. Then, sweet, heavenly darkness.

[yekulan-dothkah]

Plot & Story Meme

ONE PLACE ♦ The Black Shroud: “These woods have come to be my new home, between my own fascination and obligations, I spend a majority of my time within them; I see my own home less than the hut I built within the depths of the wilderness. I enjoy studying the flora and fauna, learning how to not only co-exist, but maintain the delicate balance that being like yourself and I threaten to destroy. It’s comforting that my desire is accompanied by the gift of being a Hearer; the Elementals make my job that much easier when I can literally hear their pleas for justice or satisfaction.”

TWO VILLAINS ♦ Poachers: “When I first left the Steppes, I was looking to become stronger and faster, to become a force of reckoning that would one day return to Azim and fight alongside my tribes to push back the empire. A naive goal for a single Xaela, admittedly, but I’ve been able to re-purpose my hunting tactics for a breed of gluttonous bipedal Aldenard creatures; poachers, to be specific. The one thing the Elementals won’t stand are these greedy hunters disturbing the balance of the Black Shroud, and so every poacher is my enemy, and me theirs. While I try not to enjoy hunting this witty prey, sometimes it’s hard to hold back what was ingrained in me from my younger days and I catch myself smiling.” ♦ My Arm “I know it sounds silly, but my aether mutated arm is both my biggest gift and worst enemy, I am constantly fighting with it to survive. In time it will claim me, but until then it grants me the opportunity to do amazing feats; from mending Hedgetree’s, to purifying Treant’s of disease, even repopulating threatened plant species, and the ability to give or take life. Balancing my chores, my aether, and how often I use it are crucial to making the most of my time until the mistakes I made to gain the arm catch up with me. I have done some research on a theory that should extend my lifetime tenfold, to that of a normal person, but it’s all still numbers and theories, only testing it will prove if it works or not.”

THREE RELATIONSHIPS ♦  Yekulan & Thrae “Easy, first off, Thrae Illiam. She was there for me when I was trying to relearn living, literally, and quickly helped me become a mature adult again after losing my memory. We quickly became friends and as we found out more about the other, we slowly became more entwined in each other’s emotions as well. We take care of each other in a special way, a way I didn’t know existed before meeting her; she grounds my thoughts, helps comfort me after many a lonely day in the shroud, and there’s never doubt in my mind I’m loved no matter how near or far she is. It was only a matter of time before we married and ran off together for a few weeks on our honeymoon before getting back to our busy obligations.” ♦ Yekulan & Motoko “I’ll admit, I was nervous to adopt, but Thrae assured me all would be well. When we found Motoko, I like to think we both decided in the same moment she was coming home with us. Between her rough upbringing and my own stories of the Steppes and the Shroud, we have a variety of stories to tell and share knowledge from. I couldn’t have hoped to get along better with our child; we take turns cooking and teaching one another recipes, helping each other out with finding things to wear, and I relish the days we simply curl up in a soft warm spot under the sun and enjoy the others company. She’s forced me to grow up even faster than Thrae did, but for better, not worse.” ♦ Yekulan & Altan “Altan is my best friend, the friend I have known the longest, and my guidance through many an event. She was there when I was found as a child in the Steppes, when I left for Aldenard, when I took up mercenary work, and when I wiped my memory. She was my first partner, a friend with benefits as you say here in Aldenard, but neither of us wanted to tie down to a western concept and prefer to live freely, until I met Thrae at least. We still have the occasional session with one another, but we also still meet as friends for company to talk and bond over the odd things we find the people of Aldenard do. Helping each other learn as we were both new to Aldenard was when our bond grew the most, followed by when she helped essentially be my mother after I lost my memory; supporting me in more ways than I can count as I gained my bearings again.”

FOUR ITEMS ♦ My First Grimoire “Twelve, I don’t know what I would do without my grimoire. It started off as a gift from my longest known and best friend Altan right after I lost my memory, but it’s quickly become much more than a book full of my naïve observations; if you flipped through it you would be able to watch a child become an adult over a matter of several hundred pages. While it weighs a tonze I like to think my knowledge is literally making me stronger by carrying it around, I’ve had to get it rebound several times due to its increasing size until I had to give up hauling it around. I recently transcribed it to a more readable large book with a few hundred less pages thanks to being more organized, but I’ve kept the original as a keepsake of sorts; something to look back on and see how far I’ve come from my mistakes.” ♦ Wolf Mask “This raggedy old thing? My first hunt for the conjurers guild as a Hearer; not being able to cast magic conventionally as a conjurer I was forced to relearn how to use a bow and daggers, the training was quick thankfully, even if my mind didn’t remember my past my muscles did and my skills came back quite quickly. Ready for my target I set out and slayed the tainted beast before it could do further harm; I nearly died being the young hunter I technically was, but my reflexes won out in the end against the wolf’s brute strength and speed. I’ve worn it as a sort of trophy ever since, reminds me of what I did wrong and much like my grimoire, reminds me of how far I’ve come since arriving in Aldenard; going from a power hungry warrior to a protector of the forest I once called a killing ground.” ♦ Vath Chest Piece “Ah, yes, my armor. To make a long story short, when the doors to Ishgard were finally pulled open for a select few, I took it upon myself to sneak by with the help of a smuggler or three. I needed to see this land that had been secluded for so long, to see the flora and fauna; how a section of land grows when secluded from the rest of it. My findings were nothing short of extraordinary; wild chocobo’s, dragons in quantities best described as hordes, and beasts of all size and shape, most having become massive apex predators in order to survive or developing aggressive tactics for normally docile creatures like herbivores. My most enjoyable find was the Vath, a group of insect people who happily took in my teachings on useful concoctions and remedies, I even performed work for some room and board amongst them while I studied the local wildlife. In return for my efforts to help them they insisted I have a piece of their armor, and that I was always welcome in Loth ast Vath; not only is the chest piece sturdy, but it doubles as an amazing camouflage within the Black Shroud, I have theories that the land the Vath call home once looked a lot like the Black Shroud given how well they would blend in here.“ ♦ Wedding Ring “How could I forget, my wedding ring. It means a lot to me that Thrae proposed to me, I would have been a fool to say no, but it didn’t make it any less daunting of a question. It’s more commitment than I had ever accepted before; having run away from the problems of Doma, literally, only to run away from my problems again in Aldenard, metaphorically, I had a habit of running away from a problem once I found it. To say I wasn’t running anymore, to accept my choices and start settling down with another; it’s been an adventure but something I’ve enjoyed greatly in the same breath.

FIVE  CHARACTERS ♦ Shattered Shield "I don’t think I’ve every trusted a mercenary with my life as much as I do Shield. He’s quite the character, and fighter besides. He was the first real connection I made in Aldenard, needing escort from Lominsa to Gridania I hired him for the job and was not disappointed. Not many people mess with a Roegadyn standing that tall or broad, and the few fools that did quickly learned their lesson. He was kind and gentlemanly from what I remember, staying up on watch till the wee hours of the night, and an ever vigilant eye on the road ahead. Sometimes I wonder if I’d still be alive today if I had tried the same trip on my own, but I also catch myself wondering how he is doing and hoping all is well for him. Maybe I should try sending him letters, the Moogles are awfully good at finding people.” ♦ Mallogon Longspear “An odd fellow, I’ll admit my past self was a bit smitten over Mallogon’s caring demeanor to say nothing of his appearance. If nothing else, he was, no, is, an amazing friend. I knew him before my loss of memory, now that I can remember that far back I recall him mending my stubborn self as well as my wounds; he was teaching me not to be so cold and uptight about remaining alone in this new strange land. I also remember right after I lost my memory, when I was trying to learn how to work and earn a living I would clean and cook for anyone willing to pay. You wouldn’t believe his face when he saw little old me dressed up like a maid, while it made no sense to me then is always makes me stifle a giggle to remember it now; I even remember hearing noise from inside the house and upon looking back on the moment, I’m guessing he trashed the house just so he’d have an excuse to pay me to clean it. I still remember that kiss we shared, my second one here in Aldenard, the thought still makes my knees a bit weak. I didn’t know at the time you don’t kiss your maid so I thought it was fine, but it’s obvious to me now that wasn’t my smartest decision.” ♦ Vaega Navarro “I can’t tell you how confused I was when I mentioned Vaega’s name at the Conjurer’s Guild one day and received several gawking stares, no one could believe I knew the man. He came to my store one day, looking around for products to help with his beauty. Naturally I had several products to offer like a lotion for his fur to become soft and fuller, a mask to wear before bed that would help his face from wrinkling and remain firm, and some naturally dyed cosmetics for makeup; namely my home grown Soldiers Sore paste, something Miqo'te use to paint their faces. He was one of my first customers and has truly helped get my business off the ground, that aside he is quite the company to keep, extravagant in more ways than one and always enthralling to listen to over a cup of tea or coffee.” ♦ Myoro “That beautiful woman, I wish I could do more to help her. Myoro is stricken with a problem I can’t solve, but can only slow; I can’t begin to describe the pain of seeing a patient and knowing one day something terrible will happen and there’s nothing you can do to stop it- It’s been a tough lesson to say the least, to know I can’t help everyone and accept that fact. To the same extent, we’re not that different, my own problem will claim me some day, and she has helped teach me to seize every day, enjoy it to the fullest and not let dread hold me down. She also, coincidentally if my recovered memory serves me right, was my first kiss in Aldenard, I was so smitten by her beauty my brash self simply asked if I could and she said yes. Ah, how daft and young I must have seemed; thinking back on it, meeting her again after my loss of memory was nothing short of a miracle, one I’m glad happened. She has since become more than a patient, a close friend I enjoy the company of every chance I get.” ♦ Keelah Se'Lai “Keelah, yes, of course I remember her, my spritely neighbor down the way. I often find myself stopping to envy her garden as a walk by on my way into the Shroud. I recall her going through a number of ups and down, while on the up she is a little, *ahem* loud some nights with her company, nothing I couldn’t drown out with a pair of pillows; none the less I can’t deny she has helped spark some more creative ideas in bed with Thrae. On the other hand, I recall hearing crying on the odd night; I would bring her fresh baked goods and some of my alchemical concoctions in hopes that maybe a day of treats and pampering would help. I hope she’s okay, maybe I should drop off another basket, I haven’t heard from her in some time." 

SIX MOMENTS ♦ Abandonment "When I was a part of the Dotharl Tribe I went into combat at a much younger age than I should have, sneaking into combat against my Khan’s best wishes. With just a spear and my agility to save me I fought and killed, trying to live up the warrior I was named after, only to take a large blow to the back of my head. After visiting the tribe again many years later, I found out they thought I was dead and left me out to be consumed by the wild life like all the other casualties. I woke up before that thankfully and wandered around looking for my now lost family. After a week of living on my own and nearly starving I was found by the Kahkol; it was a different lifestyle to say the least, but in the end I accepted them as family and they accepted me, that is how I got my tribe name of Dothkah, it is also thanks to that incident I found Altan, my best friend.” ♦ Reunion “In Aldenard, I was alone for many moons after I arrived and escaped an Ishgard convoy that tried to kill me and others who had fled Doma, nearly died countless times along the way. One day while I was drinking in Limsa she found me, Altan, for the first time in moons I didn’t feel alone. While it was evident I had changed in my time abroad, Altan was warm and welcoming as always, and a little frisky. I guess all that time crammed on a boat does that to people. Anyways, without her finding me there in the Drowning Wench, I’m not sure where I would be now, probably still drinking and hunting, if I hadn’t died yet.” ♦ Lost Memories “You have to understand, Altan tells me it was a moon, but I was asleep for what felt like years due to an artifact I had found we later discovered was of Machi design. The artifact induced horrible vivid dreams of what I can only assume was an attempt to torment the target with their worst fear; mine was losing control of my anger, hurting my friends and family. I was out of my body, watching as a soul while my body went from house to house, from one friend to the next, and finally Altan, killing them all violently. They would run, flee, fight, and every time I would kill them. I would wake, only to find the dream starting over again, or worse; I would be one of my victims, hacking myself apart and unable to stop it. The trauma of those endless nightmares scared me, scarred me, when the curse was finally broken I couldn’t handle the memory of such a dream that felt so real. I employed Altan to find an alchemist with the means to rid me of those horrid dreams; while she found one, a Ramza Wyvernjack, he could not rid me of my nightmares without ridding me of my life’s memories as well. I said my goodbyes to my closest friends, before having Altan tie me to that damned chair, those moments are the fuzziest even now, but I can recall that moment of regret, the want to back out, to keep trying to push past the nightmares, but Altan couldn’t hear me past the gurgling of the potion down my throat…” ♦ Lazy Problems “If my memory loss wasn’t bad enough, I was bored and wanted to learn magic, I was lazy and thought it would make my life easier. A little cloud to rain on my garden, hot fires for cooking, ice for my icebox, wind to dry off after a bath, lighting to fertilize soil, earth to dig and plant easier; all foolishly simple desires. I paid for it, I wasn’t casting magic properly, and without a focus or output, I was using large amounts of mana for small spells because I didn’t understand channeling either. Before long my arm that I was using to funnel all my magic through built up a residual pool of aether, playing with all the elements meant the result could have been anything, but it seemed earth was my burden and like a sprout, a green tinge began to spread up from my fingertips before turning into leaves and vines. I can’t tell you all the horrible ways I tried to rid myself of the mutation, but like the hardiest of plants it always grew back. Thanks to Thrae I figured out how to manage the mutation, to slow it’s spread, but it’s already gone too far and put my life at risk, I don’t have much time left thanks to it, but I’m trying to make the most of it.” ♦ Dried Lalafel “I was in Ul'Dah, dropping off a crate of potions for the sick and poor, when I was jumped by a merchant I had pissed off with my free service and his pair of bruisers. While they beat me within an ilm of my life that night, the malice of my former self quickly shined through my loss of memory. I found the merchant, framed my own apology to remove my motive, before sucking the man’s aether right out of him with my arm; I’ll admit, it was more of an accident than intentional, but the crafty poison I put in his wine would have killed him if I didn’t use my arm. I left his withered body in that house of riches he had earned off the backs of the poor, no one has been the wiser to suspect me yet, most probably don’t even remember that ass of a merchant and competitors were probably grateful.” ♦ Whispers “I remember it so vividly, sitting down for dinner with Altan when the voices first started, they were quiet whispers, but as I ignored them through the meal they only grew louder and louder. I remember the look on her face as I closed the windows in confusion, she was as baffled as I was. Sure enough they got louder the more I ignored them, until I opened the front door to tell whoever it was to be quiet before I was crippled, laying on the ground grasping my horns in agony as they shouted at me. It was the Elementals, and in trying to learn conjury I had awoken my ability as a Hearer, or at least that’s what they told me at the Conjurers guild the next day when I went looking for answers. They taught me how to drown out the voices, how to focus on a single voice in need of help, and how to listen when I wanted to instead of all the time. It’s because of that night I hunt poachers, that I live so much of my life in the shroud seeking to help balance the forest, that I have the connection with nature that I do.”

SEVEN QUOTES ♦ “Oh dear.” I didn’t know swears in Eorzean for the longest time, but I had been able to figure out ‘Oh dear’, could mean many things depending on the tone, and used it regularly until I learned more vocabulary, it’s sort of just stuck since. ♦ “Maybe if I…” I’m always looking for ways to improve, to do things better than what was previous accepted, even if I was the one who set the old standard. Everything from the arrangement of crops and their rotations, all the way to how to approach a frenzied beast in the Shroud. I often think out loud. ♦ “I can do better.” Failure is just an excuse to get back up, try again, and do it better; this normally comes after ‘Maybe if I’ as far as quotes go. ♦ “This is Amazing!” Normally what comes out of my mouth after I realize what I’ve been missing, or come to a conclusion on a new theory. Normally it’s about a potion recipe that when I test it actually works, but lately it has been regarding the Amdapori sigils I’ve been experimenting with. ♦ “To fight for that which can’t protect itself, to do good until my last moments, if for no other reasons than I take great pride in good deeds, and I owe it to this world for my violent past” I have killed many creatures and people needlessly in my time, I seek to redeem that past now with what time I have left, as simple as it is said. ♦ “Elementals, forgive me.” Nearly every day I ask for their forgiveness, sometimes I need to take from their bounty, or kill for food, other times I commit what would be woodsin if not for my duty as a Hearer, but it makes me no less aware of my actions and their costs. I try to say it to let them know I am thoughtful of my actions. ♦ “You reek of Woodsin.” I get a little carried away when I go ‘hunting’, I’ll admit, and this one slips out more than I would like; but to be fair poachers do smell awful, I think I’ve gained a nose for smelling woodsin, less the smell so much as the scent most people who have it carry. I’m not sure if they all use the same soap or maybe it’s the sweat covered coins that line their pouches. ___

Tagged by : @nightmaze @eastern-skies Mentions : @thraebhar @motoko-devil @eorzeas-top-model @skysinger-musings @keelime-pies @mallogonlongspear @shatteredshield Blank Template : html and basic Thank you both for tagging me, sorry for the wait, but this was a big meme to post and took some time and thought. Please tag me in your post if you decide to do one, stranger or friend, I’d like to read them!

P.S: Hitting CTRL+Enter makes your tumblr post without asking

[aion-rsa]

Adventure Zone Returns with Murder on the Rockport Limited!

https://ift.tt/2O1eC4t

The McElroys' bestselling Adventure Zone graphic novel series returns with Murder on the Rockport Limited!.

facebook

twitter

tumblr

This post is sponsored by Macmillan Children's Group. All opinions expressed in this post are based on the writer's personal views.

If you've spent any time in the nerd community, then you've probably either listened to The Adventure Zone podcast or you've heard about it from one of your friends.

I myself fall into the latter category. Before reading The Adventure Zone: Murder on the Rockport Limited!, the second graphic novel in the series based on the wildly popular tabletop RPG comedy podcast, my familiarity with the work of the McElroys was liminal. I'd listened to other podcasts that gushed about their podcasts—The Adventure Zone having originally spun off from the also wildly popular My Brother, My Brother, and Me podcast.

View this post on Instagram

quick break between cover photo shoots%u2728 FOUR DAYS LEFT to preorder TAZ: Rockport GN& snag a bonus recording! theadventurezonecomic.com bit.ly/TAZ2preorder #thezonecast #tazgn #tazbalance

A post shared by Carey Pietsch (@careydraws) on Jul 12, 2019 at 10:24am PDT

I'd also listened to more than one friend extol the virtues of a podcast journey that began as an excuse for brothers Justin, Travis, and Griffin McElroy to play Dungeons and Dragons with their dad, Clint McElroy, and became a transformative storytelling experience that surprised even its creators with its depth and emotional complexity. Now, I am part of this delightful narrative world.

Murder on the Rockport Limited! picks up where last year's Here There Be Gerblins left off and follows the second arc of the larger "Balance Arc" campaign, tagging along on the adventures of hero-adjacent-types Magnus Burnsides, Merle Highchurch, and Taako, as seen from left to right in the cover art below...

When we pick up with them in this second installment, Magnus, Merle, and Taako are just being recruited into The Bureau of Balance, from which this arc presumably gets its name. What is The Bureau of Balance, you may ask? It is an organization tasked with collecting and disposing of magical artifacts deemed too powerful to exist in the world. The Bureau is in possession of something called the Voidfish, a creature who can be used to erase specific memories from people's minds—a power used to keep the relics The Bureau collects forever secret.

In Rockport Limited, Magnus, Merle, and Taako are sent on their first proper Bureau mission. The job? To reclaim a relic found by a Bureau operative who was killed before he could return it to the Bureau itself. The relic has been placed in a vault on the Rockport Limited train, which runs from Rockport to Eversummer. When a second murder occurs when our trio is on the train, the party works to solve the murder with the help of the genius child detective Angus McDonald, and to find the relic before it falls into the wrong hands.

View this post on Instagram

only 6 weeks left until Rockport GN is out!! %uD83D%uDE82%u2728join the world's greatest detective at theadventurezonecomic.com #thezonecast #tazgn

A post shared by Carey Pietsch (@careydraws) on Jun 5, 2019 at 8:41am PDT

For those who might be worried about jumping into this story that has already begun, the novel does just enough work to situate new readers (or readers who forgot some of the details from the first book—it happens!) in the narrative world. The book begins with a crazy wall-style breakdown of what happened in Here There Be Gerblins before diving into this next chapter. As the story evolves, we get helpful profiles of each character complete with name, race, class, and a list of proficiencies. New items also get their own profile scroll, too.

Knowing the basic structure of a Dungeons and Dragons game is helpful in parsing the world of The Adventure Zone, but it is in no way necessary. Not only has Dungeons and Dragons influenced mainstream nerd culture enough (and was influenced by basic fantasy literature itself) that anyone with a basic knowledge of fantasy story structure will be fine, but there are broad enough pop culture references that there will be jokes that everyone gets, no matter your brand of nerdiness.

View this post on Instagram

TWO! DAYS! LEFT!! Put your deerstalker caps on at theadventurezonecomic.com %u2728%uD83D%uDE82 #thezonecast #tazgn

A post shared by Carey Pietsch (@careydraws) on Jul 14, 2019 at 2:22pm PDT

This is the joy of collaborative storytelling, which, at its heart, is really what Dungeons and Dragons is all about. While the graphic novel may be more polished than the "live" experience of the podcast, with vivid visuals by artist Carey Pietsch that bring this world to life in another way, the spontaneity of the storytelling is impressively preserved in the jokes that were no doubt made by the various McElroys during gameplay.

In this way, The Adventure Zone graphic novels represent the best of both worlds: the magic and unpredictability of gameplay storytelling and the intention and grace that can come with the editorial process. The Adventure Zone: Murder on the Rockport Limited! isn't just for fans of The Adventure Zone podcast or even just for fans of Dungeons and Dragons, it's for anyone who loves smart, silly, fantastical adventures filled with mystery, heart, and humor.

Find out more about The Adventure Zone: Murder on the Rockport Limited, including how to purchase it, here.

facebook

twitter

tumblr

Feature Kayti Burt

Jul 17, 2019

Fantasy Books

from Books https://ift.tt/32tqnUp

[30-days-of-exciting-stuff-blog]

Day 11 - Escape game (or that time I saved the world) [Experience]

As you may have noticed, I’m one of those slightly masochistic people who don’t love anything more than racking their brain over and again playing puzzle games. Plus, saving the world has been a life goal of mine since I was a child (I actually wanted to start another bloody glorious French revolution, but worldwide), which may explain at least some of my silly fondness for video games. So when a friend – the same evil person who doesn’t want me to work on my thesis and suggests me games involving dancing dragons and soviet bureaucracies – offered me to join him and two other people for an escape game, I gladly accepted (which could actually be kind of surprising given the fact that I knew it would also involve looking for keys everywhere, and as I write this I’m currently wondering if tomorrow I’ll work from home to avoid the extremely boring and exhausting task of finding my car keys).

This is where the mission started. Notice the complete lack of indication that this is where the adventure begins. That may be a hint at the troubles your team will face once the timer is on – or a hidden first task I almost failed, as I expectedly got lost and wouldn’t have made it there on time if it hadn’t been for a helpful phone call.

The principle of an escape game is locking crazy people in a strange room full of items, and giving them a limited time (typically one hour) to get out of it (or to fulfill a mission, depending on the scenario). They are provided very little information, which means they have to figure out by themselves how to make it. In our specific case, an extremely dangerous virus had accidentally been released in a military research bunker, and contaminated everyone – including ourselves, at the very second we entered it. We had one hour to find a way to decontaminate the bunker, otherwise it would be destroyed – with us inside – and the disease would happily keep spreading.

Hurry. Up.

We slowly discovered through the game that the decontamination process involved finding and identifying ingredients for an antidote, their accurate percentages in the mix and which chemicals to add in the process. But scientists are either incredibly disorganized or wonderfully good at hiding military secrets, because in this bunker keys and password clues can be found in the most ridiculous places. They are probably hipsters as well, because the ways they were presented were not exactly mainstream. I mean, when it comes to hiding the research supervisor’s password or the code unlocking the lab’s door, what’s better than microscopic indications on pellicles, hidden messages on cheesy love letters and padlocks requiring retrogaming-style arrow combinations? We made our way through an antidote hunt including these fancy tasks as well as more classic puzzles such as logical sequences and jigsaw-ish tasks, each clue or item paving the way for another. And we did of that under the supervision of a scary as hell timer and Carl-the-old-computer (which is actually controlled by the game master, may give little clues if the situation really turns desperate, and makes up for technical issues such as lighted numbers not working or supposedly colored keys having turned grey).

He wouldn’t give us that many clues. That would have been cheating.

In addition to puzzle solving skills, this escape game required a whole lot of team work and organization. Time is precious – you’ll probably learn it the hard way when you’ll discover that you only have 10 minutes left and you’re neither ready to die, nor about to save the world – and if you don’t keep track of the passwords the team finds and uses, you’ll probably waste tons of it by re-trying every single password you found so far every time you need one. Plus, finding passwords usually require more than one item, which means that failure to communicate about what you find – items sometimes exhibit clues that may let you know which ones should be used together - can make things extremely difficult. Finally, some tasks can’t be performed alone efficiently, and will require you to trust your partners from the other side of the room.

*Antidote synthesis failed* Wait, let’s see… Delta-3: 17%, right ? Delta-2: 49%. Gama-6: 13%... Oh, right, I accidentally entered 14%. My mistake. How many time do we have left already? Two minutes?

When we finally heard the news that the antidote had been successfully synthetized and released in the air, the timer was blocked on 47 seconds. We were only 47 seconds away from a painful, explosive death in a destroyed bunker of disease and horror, and instead we most likely saved the whole damn world from the mysterious deadly virus of my dreams in Plague Inc. This was probably my most superb victory since that time I got out of a room in Portal 2 after being stuck there for literally hours (anad the next one will probably be when I beat the damn Necrodancer… I’m almost there, I keep finding the dumbest ways to fail at the last minute, and it’s getting extremely frustrating).

The antidote. At last.

I wasn’t disappointed in my escape game experience. This one included pretty much all I needed to make my day: Using combinations and passwords other than the damn Konami code, working as a team, finding secret items in weird-looking batteries, laughing at nonsensical science-style phrases such as “protein synthesis of the molecular nucleotide viral chain” (sorry for being a killjoy of a biologist), manipulating fun gadgets such as robotic arms and cameras, and a crazy adrenaline rush ultimately leading to a glorious, satisfying victory (I happen to be kind of a sore loser, so needless saying it’s a good thing we won). I’m looking forward to take part in another escape game and find out what it looks like. The concept is pretty broad, therefore I assume escape games can exhibit various difficulties, patterns, scenarios and puzzles. As an example, we were told beforehand that this one didn’t require any kind of knowledge other than additions and reading, which meant that cultural references, vocabulary-based enigmas or challenging equations were off the table, but this may not be the case for all escape games. Similarly, we were never required to do anything physically difficult, but I’m sure there are plenty of ways to challenge both the body and the mind. Whatever the challenge may be next time, if it still involves saving the world and finding passwords… Please count me in.

And also: My village is currently surrounded by lovely poppies, this non-alcoholic Pina colada is basically liquid fluffy heaven, and that bird dress seems to have magical properties that make my day better whenever I wear it (plus, it’s also an awesome conversation starter – some people did try to guess which were the featured species).

[thepackratchronicles-blog]

Ch1

The Packrat ChroniclesThe Cursed Ring of GoldCh 1.I freaking love Pawn shops. Why? It’s pretty simple. Everyone is on the same playing field in pawn shops. Nobody is better than anyone else. Whether you’re selling great-grandma’s pearls to supplement your heroin addiction. Or looking to pick up a cheap ring to propose to your lady love that’s dripping in the bad mojo of past relationships. The pawn shop is the place you want to be.I myself have a very specific set of pawn shops i frequent for my line of work. I always recommend the North-East of America for this sort of stuff. But I find I’m getting ahead of myself.My name is Moe, and I’m a Pack-Rat. And I don’t mean I cling to emotionally charged odds and ends, pieces bits and bobs. Nor do I mean my house should be on one of those reality shows.  You know where my family members gather around and sob about how I have ten feet of garbage filling my house. “I need help before my life takes a turn it ain’t never gonna turn from!”Pack-Rat is the official term for my line of work. I traffic in magical items. Wands, rings, books, and everything else you could think of. Some are old and discarded as worthless personal effects. Some are new objects created by magic users who either died or don’t keep a very good eye on their things.I collect all these things, and then sell them to people interested in owning such items. I keep some for myself if they’re particularly fun or novel, though I have no magic of my own to speak of. The closest thing I have to spell slinging, is that my Grandfather was a Norse Dwarven Rune Skald. The guys who use to (and to my knowledge, still might) forge and craft armor and weapons for the Norse Pantheon. Inscribing them with magic runes known only to our kind. Grandaddy fell for a mortal wife, and was cast out, yet his blood still gives me a bit of an edge over the average human. Along with a rather impressive ability to grow facial hair, I don’t mind saying, and a bit of an extended life span. I recently celebrated my one-hundred and fifteenth birthday. Don’t look a day over forty, (even thirty, if I shaved).But enough about me. We were talking about pawn shops. It was a cold New England morning as I trudged my way to one of my favorite ones. Hawk and Pawn, owned by a rather close associate of mine. A rather shaggy druid who always gave me tips on when something good came through his doors. Usually because he knew that if I had the item in question, nobody would get hurt. Also because I was able to pay the prices he liked asking for them.The item in question this time was what Enoch claimed to be a real honest to goodness golden hoop earring. Plucked from the ear of an ancient Djinn (or genie for us americans). This I HAD to see. I had trouble believing that anything plucked from a Djinn wouldn’t burst into smoke as soon as the Djinn did. But something like that could hold some very potent magical properties.The bell chimes signaled my entrance which caused Enoch to look up from his herbs and spices to give me a lazy wave.“Moe, how’s it go?” “Fine Enoch, fine. How does your garden grow?” This was the standard back and forth we had. When you know someone for decades, you find some things are muscle memory.“Now,” I continued “-let’s see about this piece of fashion jewelry you called me about,” Enoch nodded , before under the counter to bring up something wrapped in thick red fabric. With careful fingers he unwrapped the item looking to be exactly what he described. It was large and thick solid gold with various Arabian designs. Littered with rubies and other gems. On it’s own it would have been worth a fortune.I let out a slow low whistle of appreciate and grinned at him “-well.. regardless, it’s a fine piece. May I?” He nodded and stepped back to allow me to inspect. I hefted my large rugged backpack onto his counter. It was my pride and joy. I never went anywhere without it. On the surface it looked silly.  Like the sort of pack that someone who knew nothing about hiking or climbing would spend far too much money on. In fact it was much much more. Early in my career i realized that having a brick and mortar store didn’t work for me. So I sold a rather old book to a rather lonely wizard, in exchange for an expanding spell. Long story short, this backpack had something like 60,000 square feet of space inside. This let me keep almost anything inside of it. The reason I had picked this style of backpack was simple, it made me look foolish.Always have everyone underestimate you. It comes in handy.Digging into one of the smaller pockets, I plucked forth what looked to be a jeweler’s “loupe” or eyepiece. The sort they used in old cartoons to inspect a massive diamond. What this actually let me do, was see magic. Auras, bindings, curses, hexes or runes be unseen to the average eye. Sure enough, this thing was BUSTING.There were layers and layers of ancient magic bindings. Old ones, very old, from the old Arabia. “-holy moses” I whispered under my breath. I shouldn’t have. This tipped my hand. Enoch grinned.“See? Toldja dude. Real deal.” “Mmm.. perhaps. What are you looking for for this?” “Twenty doubloons,” I huffed. And I puffed. I spat and chortled and shook my head. “Not a chance my friend. Nice try though. Five, at the most. As rare as this is, you’d have to actually BE a Djinn to use this!” which was NOT true. But Enoch didn’t know that. After ten minutes of haggling, wheeling and dealing I left the shop. Having paid eight doubloons. Which we both knew all along I had planned on paying. I placed the item in a small wooden box that I had in my pack. The box was good at keeping the more volatile sort of items safe, and hidden. Then returned the wooden box to my bag and giving Enoch a firm handshake.As I left I saw that a rather large and expensive looking car had pulled out. Three aggressive looking men in navy suits headed towards the entrance. “Afternoon g-” But they cut me off when they shoved me out of the way with their broad stone-like shoulders. I grunted and before I could even say anymore they had vanished into Hawk and Pawn. I couldn’t find it in my heart to blame them. Compared to them I looked like some homeless person about to beg them for change. That’s how I liked it. I met a student in Los Angeles who  had said that my battered old waterproof jacket and flat cap were ‘Hobo-Chic”. whatever the hell that means. Still, something seemed off about those men. I couldn’t place my finger on it. I gave my bushy dark beard a thorough scratch which I usually did while I was thinking. I then pushed it to the back of my mind to ponder later.