#if I misspelled anything that’s because i didn’t learn and still draw at night while tired

[void-dude]

I want them destroyed

[sqoiler]

On the Thursday of the last week of kindergarten, the DVD that Miss Martinez was going to play turns out to be scratched beyond recognition, and so she gets out construction paper, scissors, markers, and glitter glue. 

“Father’s Day isn’t for a few more weeks,” she says. “But why don’t we make some cards, just like we did for Mother’s Day, okay?” 

The kids all get to work, reaching for the pile of brightly-colored paper. Stephanie Brown, who will be turning six in August, is the last one to get up. She shifts through the leftover colors--black, a pukey shade of green, blue, white. She picks up the black one and takes it back to her desk. She does not want to make a stupid card for her stupid dad. The other kids at her table are enthusiastically chattering about their dads’ favorite colors and jobs and drawing crayon drawings onto the paper. The girl next to her is cutting a snowflake out with safety scissors. 

Steph picks up a white crayon and stares at her blank card. Across the room, Dexter raises his hand. 

“What if we don’t have a dad?” he asks. Steph remembers from Mother’s Day that Dexter has two moms. 

“Make a card for someone else,” Miss Martinez suggests. “Your grandfather, maybe. Or a neighbor, or a hero.”

A hero?

Steph looks at the black card before her, and her white crayon. She smiles.

And she makes a Father’s Day card for Batman.

-----

On the Monday of the last week of first grade, Mrs. Arnold, the art teacher, sits down her class and passes out white paper. 

“Father’s Day cards,” she explains. Stephanie Brown, seven in August, considers making her own father a card. She didn’t get him anything last year but he didn’t seem to notice, and she’s not really that mad at him this year. But he didn’t seem to notice, and when Steph thinks about it, she thinks Robin probably doesn’t make Batman a card. Steph could make another card for her own dad at home, and make one for Batman at school. 

Mind made up, she reaches for black markers and gets to work. 

-----

On the Tuesday of the last week of second grade, Stephanie Brown, almost eight years old, sits down in art class and carefully draws a black blob with pointy ears, and a red and green and yellow stick figure, next to it, and she tries to remember what Nightwing looks like, and when she can’t remember she just draws Robin again but bigger.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, she writes in red marker, and she closes the card.

------

On the Wednesday of the last week of third grade, Mrs. Arnold passes out watercolors in art class with pieces of thick paper, and tells them to make presents for their dads. Stephanie Brown, nearly nine, hasn’t seen her dad in almost four months, and she uses up almost all the black water colors at her table painting a picture of Batman. 

------

On the last week of fourth grade, nobody sits down their class to have them make Father’s Day cards. 

On the Thursday before Father’s Day, Crystal passes Stephanie Brown, age almost-ten, a card bought from the store and tells her that they’ll mail it to Blackgate the next morning. Happy Father’s Day, the card says. You’re the best dad ever! the card says. 

Steph stares at it for a long time.

Then she tears out a piece of notebook paper and folds it in half, taking the rainbow gel pens she got in December and picking up the pink one. She squints at it and sees that it’s nearly run out, so she picks up the purple one instead. 

When she’s done drawing Batman and Batgirl and Robin and Nightwing, she decides she likes purple, and she folds the notebook paper inside the card her mother gave her, and she doesn’t mail anything to Blackgate the next day.

-----

On the last day of fifth grade, Mr. Robinson turns on The Great Mouse Detective and sets out a stack of colored paper and scissors. He tells the class they can do whatever they want during the movie and even sets up chips and cookies, then he sits in the back of the classroom and maybe falls asleep. Stephanie Brown, ten-going-on-eleven, wants something to do with her hands, so she takes a black piece of paper and cuts out a batsymbol. She learned how to draw them by sticking her head out her window at night and looking at the sky, and she’s proud of her newfound skill. When she’s done cutting it out, she’s not really sure what to do besides maybe tape it to her shirt, but her dad’s been out for a week now and she thinks he’d be mad if he saw that. 

Instead, she folds it in half and writes HAPPY FATHERS DAY across the middle using white-out. Skye, the girl who sits next to her, leans over and asks what she’s doing, and Steph pauses. She’s...she’s not really sure why she keeps making these. To prove a point, maybe. She’s not really sure what point, though.

“Do you think Batman ever gets cards?” she asks in a whisper. 

“Yes,” Skye says. “Probably every day.”

“Oh,” Steph says. “Well, I probably won’t send it then.”

“Okay,” Skye says, and then she downs half of her dixie cup of orange juice and turns back to the movie. Steph puts purple glitter glue on her batsymbol. 

------

On the first week of April, Stephanie Brown, age seventeen, pulls a plastic bin out from under her desk. There’s a cardboard box beside her, and two other cardboard boxes on her empty mattress, full and taped shut. There’s a full duffel bag of clothes next to her, and her posters from her walls have been taken down and rolled up. All she has to do is finish going through her desk, and then she’s done. The rest of her things will be sold or something, she’s not sure. 

She pries off the lid of the bin before her and takes out old school binders and ragged notebooks, paper folders falling apart and ancient art projects. She lifts out a collage she probably made in seventh grade and tries to decipher the meaning behind it. There is a cutout of red heels from Kohls on top of a blue betta fish. 

Steph decides it will go in the trash pile and sets it aside, lifting out a yellow plastic folder. She opens it, curious, and lifts out a black paper batsymbol. She gasps when she opens it.

Her Father’s Day cards! 

Of course, she had never sent them, so she has all--she counts quickly--six of them. She looks them over, laughing at her kindergarten misspellings and looking at the evolution of her drawing ability fondly. This is--she totally forgot about this. Steph closes the folder reverently and puts it on top of her duffel bag. There’s no way she can get rid of this--especially with the purple cape still in the hidden part of her closet. Especially not with where she’s packing up to move to.

----

On the third Sunday in June, Stephanie Brown, age eighteen-in-August, takes up her yellow plastic folder from where she hid it under her new mattress, and she leaves her room, tucking it under her arm. She gets like four steps down the hall before another door opens, and already an accusing voice says, “What’s that?” 

Steph whirls around. 

“None of your business,” she says. Tim makes a face at her and she makes the same one back, because she is very mature. To prove her maturity, she slides down the banister on her way to the kitchen. 

Dick and Cass are in there, doing the dishes. Steph watches them for a second and then says, “Why do you have dishes at this hour?” ‘This hour’, upon checking, turns out to be almost noon, but nobody wakes up early in this house. 

“Breakfast for Alfred,” Cass says. 

“You can do that?” Steph asks, thinking that Alfred would get offended if someone tried to cook for him. 

“You can today,” Dick says, shrugging, and Steph frowns, realizes that they ganged together to make breakfast on Father’s Day for Alfred and didn’t invite her. 

It was probably an accident, she reasons, but then she remembers Tim and turns to face him. 

“Why didn’t you make breakfast for Alfred?”

“I was sleeping,” he says. 

“He’s impossible to wake up so we called it a lost cause,” Dick says. “We have extra pancakes, though, help yourself.”

Steph is still a little affronted, but she knows that she’s the newest person in the house and she’s only staying here until her mom’s done with rehab and whatever, so they probably didn’t think she’d want to be included, even though Alfred is everyone’s grandpa, even Babs’s. She goes to pick up a pair of pancakes and bites into one, deciding syrup can wait, and she leaves before they can rope her into conversation. Besides, she’s a little scared they’ll start referring to whatever plans they have with Bruce, and she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to react. 

She heads to Bruce’s study and pushes open the door, glad to find him in there. She thinks if she had to search for him she’d probably lose her nerve and chicken out. Bruce glances up for like half a second and then looks back at the computer, and she takes a deep breath and steps inside fully. 

Now or never, she thinks, and so she marches right up to him and slams the yellow folder on the desk. 

“What’s this?” Bruce says, and Steph isn’t really sure how to explain, so she says, “It’s, uh, I found it when I was packing my stuff, and it’s...it’s from a while ago, but I thought you might, um…”

She trails off as he picks up the folder and opens it, raising an eyebrow at the contents from inside. She kinda wants to look at his face, but also totally doesn’t want to do that, so instead she looks at the desk, and opens her dumb mouth back up. “They always used to have us do Father’s Day cards at school or whatever and I never wanted to make one for Arthur so I made those instead ‘cause...well I don’t really remember why but whatever I thought you might want to see them.”

“Stephanie,” Bruce says, and she shuts up and bites her lip, looking up at him. “You...made these?”

“Yeah,” she says. He looks back down at the cards in his hands, all spread out--even the one that was intended for Arthur that Steph never sent. He touches the one from kindergarten. “Um. You can keep them.”

Bruce stands up. Steph isn’t really sure at all what he’s thinking, but he steps away from his chair and wraps his arms around her, holds her tight. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. 

“Happy Father’s Day,” she says, and when he squeezes her she closes her eyes, exhales, and squeezes him back. 

(based on this post x) (ao3 here x)

[let-me-write-shit]

Like We Used To: 17

A/N: *WARNING* Smut smut smut!!!! I’ll put ******* at the beginning and end of the smut, so you can skip if you’d like.

Let me know what you think and what you’d like to see in future chapters :)

[Click Here For Previous Chapters]

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Where the hell are you taking us, Lizzy?” 

Elizabeth giggled, skipping down the streets of LA with Harry smiling in tow. Even on a Monday night there were a decent amount of people out, but everyone was too into themselves to pay much attention to a passerby. There were the occasional head turns, but nothing long-lasting. She had stopped in front of an ice cream parlor, grinning like a child and bouncing on her toes. 

“Is this our next stop?” Harry questioned, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

“First of all, put that away, it’s my turn now” Elizabeth said, pushing his hand with his wallet down, “And yes, I want a milkshake. So move it or lose it.”

He laughed, “Alright, yeah, a swirl cone sounds pretty good,” pulling the door open for her and watched as she skipped to the back of the line. 

There were a half dozen customers inside and it seemed like within seconds they realized Harry Styles was in the same building as them because what at first seemed like just innocent glances at the two of them turned into people practically surrounding him. She suddenly started feeling a bit unnerved. How could she have forgotten so easily that they can’t just go into an ice cream parlor? What if there were pictures? What if the press had found out they were on a date? That after days of him adamantly denying that he had no romantic interest in ‘the woman in the pictures’, there could now be picture or video proof of his deceits. What would that mean for her job? She had heard horror stories before of people getting into relationships with celebrities and fans finding out where they worked, harassing the company and making them lose their jobs. Could that happen to her?

Elizabeth slipped away from the crowd. Now that the line was no longer interested in ordering their ice cream, the counter was free. She stepped up to the worker and smiled nicely, “Hi, can I please have a medium chocolate milkshake, and a medium chocolate and vanilla swirl on a cone?”

“Of course, is that all?” The teenage girl asked, glancing between her and the crowd surrounding Harry.

“Yes, thank you,” Elizabeth handed her some cash and waited at the end of the counter for their ice cream, arms crossed tightly into her chest nervously watching as Harry did his best to say hi to everyone and take pictures. He heard a few of the girls mention her and ask who she was, but he did his best to avoid the question. Elizabeth decided at that moment that she was going to stop being so damn scared of consequences. She is a 26 year old woman with a fantastic job, in an entirely different country, who just got out of a toxic three year relationship and was able to afford to move out by herself into a comfortable house, on a date with someone she’s known practically her whole life. If he wasn’t overly concerned with them being photographed, she wasn’t going to, either. Judy was right, she needed to learn how to live a little.

The worker had handed her the ice creams and Elizabeth waved at Harry to get his attention. He quickly and politely excused himself from the group before shuffling over to Elizabeth, grabbing his cone and following her out the door. Luckily no one had followed him out of the ice cream parlor.

“In hindsight, that wasn’t my best idea,” Elizabeth sipped her milkshake as they continued down the street.

Harry laughed, licking up the side of his ice cream cone, “Not the most subtle part of our date, no. Anything else you have planned?” Elizabeth stopped walking and grinned between Harry and the storefront next to her, seeing the realization form in Harry’s eyes. “You’re kidding,” he smirked.

“I’m not.”

“Are you getting one?”

“We’re both getting one! That’s the point!” Elizabeth laughed.

Harry stared between her and the tattoo shop before shaking his head with a look of astonishment, “This will be your first tattoo.”

“This is a week of firsts for me. Why not keep it going?”

Harry looked at her in amazement before taking her hand and leading her inside. Again, there weren’t too many people inside. It was near 9 PM at this point and there was only one client with a friend getting tattooed at the moment, with a few artists sitting around with their friends. Music was playing loudly and unflattering fluorescent lights illuminated the walls of sample tattoos. Harry walked up to the counter to introduce himself and a moment of realization flashed across the guys’ face, shaking Harry’s hand excitedly. Harry introduced Elizabeth and they were led back to a private room by two of the artists, walls lined with more artwork and a cabinet and cart filled with tools and equipment.

“Alright, so who wants to go first?” A larger man spoke, bold tattoos covering every inch of his body up to his neck and a few on his temples. 

Harry was about to speak when Elizabeth sat up straighter, “I do.”

Harry looked at her in shock while Elizabeth explained what tattoo she wanted. Since it was her first tattoo she didn’t want to go too crazy, she just wanted a dainty flower tattoo right behind her ear. The artist continued to sketch up an idea on an iPad and showed it to her. Once he got the dimensions right he had it printed on transfer paper and stamped it behind her ear, showing her the placement of the tattoo for her approval. 

Since it was such a small tattoo the artist explained that it would probably take about fifteen minutes to complete, but he’d start off slowly so she got an idea of what it would feel like. Elizabeth took a deep breath, staying as still as she could and Harry offered his hand, letting her squeeze it as hard as she could while the artist rested his arm on her shoulder and pressed the tattoo gun to her skin. The buzzing noise felt like it rang deep within her ear and she loosened her grip on Harry’s hand a bit, only noticing the pain wasn’t as bad as she thought it’d be. It felt more like someone scratching a sunburn with a pencil really hard; uncomfortable but manageable. 

“You alright?” both Harry and the artist asked.

“Yeah, it’s not terrible,” she said, super focused on not making any sudden movements. 

Harry watched her with a smile before bending down and grabbing her milkshake, bringing the straw up to her lips. She grinned and took a few sips before pushing the straw out. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he set her milkshake back down and rested his hand atop hers. 

“So what made you all come in here?” The lankier artist who stood behind the table asked.

“She did,” Harry nodded towards Elizabeth.

Elizabeth explained how she hadn’t done any research on tattoo places in the area, that this was just the first one they stumbled across. Everyone seemed to get a kick out of it and they all began casually talking while Harry finished up his ice cream cone. Fifteen minutes had passed before her tattoo was done. He wiped it down with a bit of water and had her hold a mirror in front of another to see. It was perfect, with the thinnest lines and amazing attention to detail in the tiny flower petals. 

“It’s beautiful! Thank you so much!” Elizabeth turned to hug the man.

He was taken aback, but laughed and gave her a little squeeze back before letting go. Harry was up next, explaining that he wanted to get a small biplane tattoo on his side. Elizabeth interjected, telling him to get it above chest level, suggesting his collarbone.

“Trust me,” she said.

Harry shrugged, agreeing to get it on his left collarbone. The two artists switched places and the lankier one would be tattooing Harry. Again, he sketched up the drawing and placed the transfer paper onto Harry’s skin, quickly getting approval and starting up the tattoo gun. Elizabeth did most of the talking, asking the artists how long they’ve been doing this and what their favorite tattoo they ever did was. The conversation slowly turned into crazy stories of things they had witnessed in the shop; a full on brawl between a husband and wife because he had misspelled her name, and a ton of fainting stories. She even got the artists to open up about their home lives and families, touched by the dedication the bigger man that did her tattoo, she got to know as Frank, had towards his wife, Leah, who had recently been diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer and was currently undergoing treatment. Eventually they began talking about how Elizabeth always wished that she was creative enough to be able to tattoo, to which Harry proposed that she try to tattoo him.

“You’re out of your mind! My shitty tattoo will be on you forever!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

“Yeah, along with the rest of them. Come on! If it’s that bad I can just get it covered up.”

Elizabeth looked at him incredulously as both of the artists had assured her that she could do something small and they would talk her through it. Harry’s tattoo took about twenty minutes before it was completed and wiped down. He was given a mirror to look at it and shook his artist, Derek’s, hand, thanking him before wrapping Harry up and motioning for Elizabeth to come over. 

Derek messed with the tattoo gun and passed it to her, showing her how to hold it. He had taken the needles and ink out so that she could practice on Frank’s arm and figure out how much pressure she needed to apply and how slowly she needed to go before she felt confident enough to tattoo Harry.

“What do you want me to tattoo on you?” Elizabeth asked.

“Whatever you want,” Harry beamed at her before biting his lip, amused.

Elizabeth thought for a moment, looking at the tiny space on his arm right below his shoulder before settling on an idea and pressing the needle to his skin. She felt his eyes on her as she focused hard on staying steady.

“Don’t mess up now,” Harry teased.

“Shut up, or I will,” Elizabeth whispered, pursing her lips in concentration.

Elizabeth straightened up once she was satisfied with what she had done, turning to hand the tool back to Frank, who had looked at the tattoo and roughly wiped his face, holding his chin in his hand before turning to Elizabeth and giving her another hug. Derek had wiped the excess ink off of Harry and handed him a mirror to see that Elizabeth had drawn a very thin outline of the breast cancer ribbon with an L initial underneath it for Leah. 

“Wow,” Harry nodded, smiling towards Elizabeth and Frank, “I couldn’t have picked a better tattoo, and it’s surprisingly well done for your first time. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Frank nodded. 

For some reason, seeing a huge, muscular, tattooed man get teary-eyed always seemed to hit differently. But when you add in the personal struggle that he and his wife were going through, it was hard not to get emotional. A tear slid down Elizabeth’s cheek and she quickly wiped it away, giving Frank one more friendly hug.

“Do you mind if we get a picture for our wall?” Derek asked

“Sure, man, of course,” Harry agreed.

Derek took up close pictures of both hers and Harry’s tattoos. Harry pulled his shirt back on to take a picture of him standing with both of the artists. 

When Elizabeth offered to take the picture for them, Frank shot her down, “No, you need to be in it, too! I need to show my wife the girl who tattooed Harry Styles for her.”

They called someone else in to take a picture of them and they all squeezed together, arms around each other, smiling. The tattoo artists insisted that no payment was necessary if they could just have permission to post the pictures of his tattoos onto their shop’s Instagram account. Harry agreed and said their final thanks and goodbyes, slipping them a check for $5,000 and leaving before they could give him the check back.

“They were lovely,” Elizabeth noted, looking up at Harry as they walked back down the street towards the direction of his car.

Harry grinned, grabbing hold of her hand before saying, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

She giggled, blushing, “So I’ve been told.”

“Anything else on your agenda?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, back at your house.”

The drive back was quieter than it normally was as they reflected on the events of the night. Listening to Frank talk about how resilient his wife was while hearing a tinge of fear echoing in the words of this tough, large man had really put into perspective how short life really was. Elizabeth felt like she was meant to go into that tattoo shop so she could be reminded to live her life the way she wanted to.

As soon as they reached Harry’s house, Elizabeth led Harry to his backyard, kicking her shoes off and flipping on the pool lights. She turned to Harry and looked at him while she unbuckled her belt and tossed it on the ground. His eyes furrowed and she reached to the bottom of her dressed, slowly lifting it up over her head and tossing that on the ground, exposing her underwear. His eyes lit in realization as she started to unhook her bra and he rushed to pull his clothes off. Soon they were both naked and racing to the hot tub, stepping in, careful not to get their fresh tattoos wet. 

“I’m not going to lie,” Harry said, sitting across from Elizabeth, “This is probably the best first date I’ve ever had.”

Elizabeth laughed and joked, “Really? It’s probably my worst.” Earning a little splash from Harry. “Careful!” she exclaimed, brushing the hair away from her raw tattoo. “I’m kidding. It’s been the best first date I’ve been on, too.”

He slicked the hair out of his face with a wet hand, saying, “We go back home in a few days,” earning a nod from Elizabeth. He continued, “Any plans?”

“Yeah, Kate and Lewis will be back from their honeymoon the day before we get back, so Matt and I were going to go over to theirs and sleep over.”

Harry nodded, “You think you’d want to go visit my mom the next weekend?”

Elizabeth grinned, “Right, I forgot about that. Damn, one date and I’m already meeting the mom? You must be obsessed with me,” she joked.

“Shut up,” Harry groaned, chuckling a bit, “If you’re not my girlfriend by then, I’m clearly doing something wrong.”

Elizabeth floated over to him, and hushed him, “Let’s not worry about that. Our date isn't over yet.”

****************************

She straddled him, watching him bite his lip as he wrapped his arms around her lower back, pulling her closer to him. She felt him between her legs hardening as she ran her fingers through his hair, lightly brushing her lips against his. He pulled her face in closer to kiss her more hungrily and she laughed in between pecks at his eagerness. Elizabeth slowly traced kisses from his lips, to his jaw, and over to his ear as her hands trailed down to his now throbbing cock. When she grabbed hold of him, she sucked on his ear lobe and nibbled a bit, breathing heavy as she pumped him up and down, faster, then slower.

He moaned her name, holding onto her hips before running his hands along her inner thighs and squeezing. He rubbed her clit, softly at first, until he inserted his middle and ring fingers into her. She felt her whole body vibrate when he flicked his fingers inside of her, her grab onto his shoulders. He drew breath, wincing as she accidentally grabbed onto his tattoo.

“Sorry,” she muttered, moving her hand down to his bicep.

Without response he slipped his fingers out of her and took hold of her hips again, lifting her up a bit, which was easier with her being half submerged in the hot tub water, slowly placing her onto his cock. They both let a moan as she circled her hips, engulfing him deeper inside her. She bent back a bit, propping her hands behind her ass onto his kneecaps, continuing to circle her hips, watching as Harry bit his lips and stared at her breasts bouncing against the splashing water. 

“Oh my God!” He panted, pulling her closer to him and taking her breast into his mouth. He flicked her nipple with his tongue and lightly nibbled, squeezing the other breast.

Elizabeth turned over and placed herself back on top of him before he forced her up and pushed her towards the other side of the pool, thrusting himself into her faster. She kneeled on the bench with the upper portion of her body hovering over the ground, outside of the hot tub. 

“Fuck,” Elizabeth moaned, “Harder, Harry!”

The water splashed more viciously as he pounded himself harder into her and she made her pussy tense up so it would be tighter for him. He gripped onto her waist so tightly she could feel his nails digging into her skin as he grunted. 

“Ahhh! Har-ry!” she yelped, her whole body shivering as she reached her orgasm.

This made Harry push her over the edge of the hot tub even further as he slammed himself into her, faster than he ever had, panting her name, “Lizzy!” over and over again. 

Before he could even say anything he pulled himself out of her quickly, cupping himself into his hand as he came and hoisting himself above the water’s surface. He used the water to splash the cum away and layed on the ground at the edge of the hot tub, legs still dangling in the water, looking over at Elizabeth who was still draped over the side. They both laughed before Harry spoke.

**********************

“Like I said, best first date ever.”

Elizabeth pulled herself out of the pool, bent down and kissed him before saying, “Come on, let’s watch a movie on the lounge couch out here.

Harry and Elizabeth dried themselves off before grabbing a duvet, some pillows, popcorn, oreos, and a laptop, taking it back outside to the lounge couch. They cuddled close under the duvet together, still naked, and watched ‘He’s Just Not That Into You’ until they both fell asleep under the stars.

KEEP READING

[elliemarchetti]

Red Queen Pride and Prejudice AU (Part 4)

I wanted not to publish this part until I had reached at least a dozen notes on the third, but I’m a clown and I wanted to share this so bad, so, here we are. Hope someone is still interested, hope someone could enjoy something so silly in this trying times. 

Tag list: @lilyharvord

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist

Words: 2456

The day passed practically as the previous one: Miss Samos and Lady Haven spent a few hours with Wren, whose health continued, albeit slowly, to improve, and in the evening Mare joined the others in the living room. The table game, however, hadn’t been organized and the General was writing to his grandmother while Miss Samos, sitting next to him, controlled the progress of the letter, of a considerable length, and continually diverted his attention with messages for the recipient and congratulations for her friend’s handwriting and the regularity of the lines which, together with the complete disinterest with which they were received, formed a curious dialogue, in perfect coincidence with the opinion she had of both.

“You write at an extraordinary speed.”

"I'm sorry to admit you're wrong, in fact, I write rather slowly."

"How many letters do you have the opportunity to write in the course of a year?" she asked, though she didn't seem particularly interested in the answer. "Many will be about business. I guess you’ll find them hateful. I certainly would."

"Your guesses are becoming less and less correct day by day, my dear Evangeline," he replied, sardonically, and although she didn't seem particularly pleased with the answer, she asked him to tell her grandmother that she wished to see her again as soon as possible, which she must have already done, given his reaction. A brief period of time passed, in which all three were silent, when she started again , this time asking him if she should fix his pen, but the General replied he was fine and that it was anyway a job he always did by himself. The more time passed, the more Mare could understand that young man, whose pride was gradually diminishing, revealing he was actually unable to converse or stay in a company, a sign he must’ve had a cold and rigorous childhood, without friends or confidants, full of mentors and teachers, books and lessons.

"You always write her letters so long and beautiful?” she asked, and just then her brother walked in, accompanied by Lady Haven, which annoyed Mare a little, since she still hoped he and Wren could soon begin an official courtship.

"They are generally long, but as for always being beautiful, it’s not my job to judge,” replied the General who, although he had registered the newcomers, didn’t lift his head from the sheet.

"For me, it’s a certainty: a person capable of writing a long letter can't easily misspell," interjected Lady Haven, who had quickly rushed to snoop in turn. Mare didn’t agree with her, anyone could write long letters, even with a not particularly large vocabulary and a bad grammar, yet she said nothing, determined not to draw further attention to herself and too interested in the conversation, which had shifted to the General's use of extremely refined terms, evidently also in the letters addressed to his friends, something in sharp contrast with the writing style of Mr. Samos, which his sister defined as a set of sloppy scribbles.

"My ideas flow so quickly that I don't have the time to express them, hence sometimes my correspondents can't understand practically anything."

"It means that you let your heart write and not your mind," Mare commented, "and this does you credit, because you show yourself vulnerable to the people you love, something in stark contrast to your character with the rest of your acquaintances."

Mr. Samos seemed surprised by the compliment, while the General didn’t seem to like it, but Mare wasn’t in the mood to endure his malevolent comments, which always showed an ill-concealed wickedness and a stubborn decision to contradict her, so, before he could reply, she asked him if he didn't care about the influence of friendship and affection.

"The respect for the writer often leads me to overlook possible errors of little importance, but I would do better, perhaps, to wait for Mr. Samos to write something for my eyes before judging."

"It wouldn’t be advisable, before pursuing this topic, to agree with a little more precision on the degree of importance to be attached to this letter, as well as on the degree of intimacy existing between the parties?" the General asked, and before Mare could reply, it was the person directly interested who interrupted the discussion, which almost resembled a quarrel, with a joke, bringing his friend to end his task , while the three young ladies devoted themselves to analyzing the music sheets placed on the grand piano that dominated the right side of the room. Lady Haven sang with her friend, and while the two were busy, Mare couldn’t help but notice how the General's gaze stopped very often on her. She certainly couldn't suppose to be the object of the admiration of such a great man and that he looked at her because he disliked her would be even stranger. Eventually, she could only imagine that he turned his attention to her because there was nothing more out of place and reprehensible, according to his ideas of correctness, in any other person present. The hypothesis didn’t bother her: she liked him too little to hold on to his approval. After playing some Italian songs, Miss Samos started something more lively, and soon after General Calore, approaching Mare, asked her if she didn’t feel the strong desire to take the opportunity to dance. She smiled, but didn't answer. He repeated the question, a little surprised from what could be interpreted as a shy reaction. The truth was that she had heard him the first time, but had found herself undecided on what to answer, as she was sure that her interlocutor hoped for her assent, so he could denigrate her good taste, but for her it was always pleasant to upset these kinds of plans and deprive people of their premeditated contempt, so she replied negatively, with the sole purpose of offending him just as she had been offended by his comment when he called her not beautiful enough to tempt him. He, however, was incredibly gallant and found himself thinking that if it weren't for her humble origins, he would’ve found himself in serious danger because that young woman had bewitched him like no one before. Though she seemed too busy at first to notice, Miss Samos saw everything, and her strong impatience for Wren's recovery was somewhat reinforced by a desire to get rid of Mare, which risked to seriously jeopardize her plan. In this regard, she tried to instil in Cal a dislike for her own guest, talking to him about the alleged marriage and offering him a glimpse of the happiness that would follow such a union.

"I hope," she said, as they were walking in the grove next day, "that you’ll give your mother-in-law some advice, when this desirable event takes place, about the advantages of holding her tongue, and that you can limit the younger girl’s desire to run after officers, not to mention the delicate subject of your lady’s presumption and impertinence.”

"Do you have anything else to propose for my domestic happiness?" he asked, but before Evangeline could answer they ran into Lady Haven and Mare herself, coming from another path.

“I didn’t know you were going to take a walk,” she noted, a little embarrassed for fear of having been heard.

"You treated us horribly," Lady Haven replied, glaring at her, "running away without telling us you were going out."

Then, taking the General's free arm, she left Mare to walk alone. The path had room only for three and when the young man realized the rudeness he immediately proposed to move to the avenue, but Mare, who had no intention of staying with them, replied laughingly, before walking away with a brief farewell, that they formed a charming group and that a fourth person would ruined the picturesque appearance. From the window, Wren, who had felt strong enough to get up, saw everything and decided that she would come downstairs for a couple of hours that night. Making sure she was well protected from the cold, Mare accompanied her into the living room, where she was greeted by her two friends with many manifestations of joy; she had never found them more pleasant as in the hour that passed before the gentlemen’s appearance, and the demonstration that their remarkable ability to converse weren’t limited only to describing precisely the receptions they had attended but it was also extended to reporting anecdotes with a sense of humour and laughing at their acquaintances made her feel invigorated nearly as much as Ptolemus’ attentions who, on his arrival, spent the first half hour poking the fire and made sure she sat on the side of the fireplace farthest from the door. When he finally sat down next to her, he barely spoke to the others, which Mare noted with great pleasure. Once they had tea, Lucas Samos reminded his cousin of the game table, but in vain: Lady Haven had learned, in a completely confidential way, that the General hated cards and the few times he had played it had been only to not offend them, so suddenly everyone had lost interest in it, and seemed much more determined to devote themselves to reading, although Miss Samos's attention was much more concerned with checking the progress of the one she wished to make her husband soon than to read her own book; she never stopped asking him questions or peeking the pages, but she couldn't draw him into the conversation as he just answered her questions and kept on reading.  Finally, completely exhausted from her attempts to amuse herself with her own tome, which she had chosen only because it was the second volume of his, she gave a loud yawn and said: "How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I feel like saying that basically there is no entertainment like reading! How quickly one gets tired of anything other than a book! When I have my own home, I would feel really miserable not to have an excellent library. "

No one replied, then she yawned again, put aside what, in her words, should’ve been her new favourite pastime, and glanced around the room for some amusement when, hearing that her brother was talking to Miss Skonos about a dance, she immediately turned to him, reminding him that for some of those present a dance would be nothing but torture. It was evident that the dig was thrown at the General, but he let his friend answer for him and raised his head only when Mare joined Miss Samos, by invitation, to stretch her legs. The platinum-haired young woman invited him too but he refused, noting that he could only imagine two reasons for that choice to walk back and forth in the room, both of which his participation would interfere. Miss Samos was dying to know what he meant, and as Mare was of no help to her, she insisted on her childhood friend, who replied that the first reason was that the two women had suddenly become intimate and had private affairs to discuss, and the second was to be admired, which he would’ve been able to do much better while sitting.

"I've never heard something so disgusting!” exclaimed Miss Samos. “How will we punish him for such a speech?”

"Nothing easier, if only you feel like it," Mare said, perplexed by the fact that her interlocutor had taken her by the arm, as if they were great friends. "We are always able to torment and punish each other. Tease him, laugh at him. As intimate as you are, you sure know how to."

"On my honour, I don't know. I assure you that intimacy still hasn’t taught me to tease such a quiet temperament without losing in the attempt, and as for laughing, we shouldn’t expose ourselves for laughing for no reason. I suppose he can congratulate himself.”

"Miss Samos gives me more credit than how much is due. The wisest and best of men, or better, the wisest and best of his deeds, can be made ridiculous by a person whose main purpose in life is to joke."

"Sure," Mare replied, "there are people like that, but I hope I'm not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Extravagance and nonsense, tantrums and absurdities amuse me, I admit, and I laugh at it every time I can. But these things, I suppose, are just the ones from which you are immune."

"Maybe this isn’t possible for anyone, but in life I’ve always tried to avoid those weaknesses which often expose even a remarkable intelligence to ridicule," he replied, and it soon became apparent that a conversation of that rank would only take place between the two of them, though it also attracted Lucas and Elane’s attention.

"Even vanity and pride, then."

"Yes, vanity is undoubtedly a weakness. But pride... where there is real superiority of intellect, pride will always be under careful control."

Mare had to hid a smile, and Evangeline, who hadn’t understood what had just happened, asked her what the outcome of her study was.

"I am perfectly convinced that General Calore doesn’t have flaws. He himself admits it without a doubt."

"I've never demanded such a thing," he corrected her. "I have several flaws, but they don’t concern, I hope, the intellect, even if I certainly cannot vouch for my character, which I believe is very little accommodating, certainly too little in the eyes of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others as much as I should, nor the offenses done to me. My feelings don't shift at each attempt to move them, my character could perhaps be called touchy and my respect once lost is lost forever."

"This is a real flaw!" Mare exclaimed. "A relentless grudge is a stain in a character, but as a flaw it’s chosen well, so I can't really laugh at it. In mine opinion, you’re safe."

"In every temperament there is, I believe, a tendency to some particular sin, a natural imperfection that not even the better education can defeat,” he went on, "and if in my case it may seem that I hate everyone, which isn’t true, in yours it certainly is obstinacy in misunderstand them."

Mare would’ve liked to continue that conversation, but Miss Samos, tired of hre inability to take part in it, proposed to make some music and after a brief moment of reflection, Cal decided that it wasn’t a bad idea: he was beginning to clearly feel the danger of giving Miss Barrow too much attention.

[vagrantblvrd]

Oh my gosh I love the pairings for the concubine post. What about jeremwood or jerevin or jerevinwood, or jeremavinwood or jeremichael? To be honest I can see most of those working really well as well. I know you mentioned jeremwood so I’m really curious on your take? Sorry for any misspellings

Well, if you insist on twisting my arm like this, Anon! ;P (jk, I was thinking about these on the way home and your ask came at the perfect time, so yes??? Also I kind of stray from the original premise a few times, so sorry about that???)

Jeremwood:

So, okay. Let’s have baby Ryan whose parents died when he was a kid, so there’s been a regent (Geoff and Jack or someone along those lines in charge until Ryan comes of age, which is kind of ironic to Geoff because he’s not that much older than Ryan himself, always a bit of an older brother figure to him and such, but Plot Reasons.)

Conveniently for Plot Reasons, Ryan’s going to be of age in this particular AU.

Ryan’s parents may have been a bit on tyrannical side of things and due to civil unrest and the whatnot while Geoff and Jack set to putting things to right after their deaths they decide it would be wise to keep him out of the public view.

They make sure he has the best of everything they can give him – education, care, and they do love him – but there are major security reasons to limit the access others have to him and so on.

He grows up sheltered in that way. Not spoiled, or at least to a ridiculous degree, because Geoff and Jack both feel guilty about how they help raise him and overcompensate at times.

Ryan grows up knowing about the things his parents did – great and terrible and all that – and how it affected their people. The impact they have even now, a decade and change after their deaths. (Still those out there who think their madness was passed on to their son and have tried and tried to get to him to end the bloodline while they can because Drama.)

And Ryan, okay. He grows up knowing all about this, seeing Geoff and Jack injured in assassination attempts and all that – and after one that comes too close for anyone’s peace of mind, Geoff and Jack decide he should pursue additional schooling/education out of the kingdom.

Frame it as totally not being related to the time someone almost killed Ryan in his own home (again), but widening his life experiences before he takes the throne and everything.

They all know it’s a flimsy excuse, but Ryan feels too guilty to protest as strongly as he might have if their explanation was the truth.

Geoff and Jack send him off with the Twins and Michael at the head of his little entourage (just the four of them to avoid drawing too much attention because surely someone of Ryan’s import would have a grand entourage and such).

Neither Geoff and or Jack like it, but Michael’s proven himself trustworthy time and again, lifted from the ranks of city guard to castle guard to one of Ryan’s personal guards. Trevor and Alfredo are two of their most promising spies/assassins and equally loyal and most importantly, Ryan likes them. (Closest thing to friends he has, even if he thinks they see him more as a Duty than a friend, but you know. He’s kind of dumb like that.)

Anyway, anyway, all this going on and Ryan’s finished his schooling and is headed home where the coronation and all is supposed to take place before summer’s end. (Because reasons?)

They have a mostly uneventful journey home, Ryan getting a little anxious the closer they get because he, too, is concerned he may have inherited his parents’ madness.

Michael insists he’d knock any nonsense like theirs out of his head if he shows signs of madness, and while it’s worth a good laugh, he also knows Michael is serious. (As serious as the Twins and the promise he insisted on they do their duty to the kingdom if he became the same sort of monsters his parents were.)

He still worries. (Remembers overhearing Geoff and Jack when they got a little too into their drink late on winter nights and the way their own parents were executed by Ryan’s for committing treason and just. Wow, a lot to unpack there especially because the two of them never held his parents’ acts against him and just yes. He’s worried he’ll go mad and since they’re among the closest, most dangerous threats to anything he might do of course they’d have to be dealt with first.)

So, you know.

Ryan’s all fucked up about going mad and everything and also just learning to be a good ruler even though Geoff and Jack will serve as close advisors and so on.

And then!

There’s a storm or bandit attack that scatters their little group, has Ryan ending up in this tiny podunk village where they don’t ask questions. (Too many, at any rate.)

He has to wait the storm out there, worried for the others but they’re skilled fighters and he’s not with them so they should be safer?

And anyway, he notices this village is barely hanging on. Not like the other villages he’d seen on his journey to and from the neighboring country he went to school. The brief tours Geoff and Jack would allow him when he was younger.

Finds out they’re not receiving the aid they should, that the bandits are rampant and overall it’s gone unnoticed too long. (Greedy nobles squeezing what they can from them because they’re sitting on valuable land or there are mines rich with ore the people won’t relinquish and so on and so forth.)

And!

There’s a guard from a nearby city on leave, visiting the family who took him in when his parents were killed in a bandit raid years and years ago.

Bright smile and infectious laughter and �� totally against some outdated order of the kingdom – teaching the men and kids of the village how to fight. (Something, something, incite rebellion against the crown if the people were properly taught to fight and all that.)

The guard knows if he’s caught out he’ll face jail, or execution, but what else can he do when his village is suffering and they’ve been denied help? So he made himself someone who could protect them by learning to fight and passing his knowledge on.

And Ryan, okay.

At first he’s all :O at the guard’s brazenness – he teaches them in broad daylight where just anyone can see!

But then Jeremy notices the stranded stranger watching and calls him over – doesn’t know what he thinks he’s doing because this is bound to land him in hot water, but hey, you know.

Poor guy was separated from his traveling party by bandits and he was injured in the fray and maybe he should learn how to defend himself?

So Ryan ends up as his training partner and Ryan is totally handling it just fine, you know? Especially when Jeremy corrects his technique (wouldn’t do to give away the fact Ryan’s a decent fighter in his own right because his cover story!!1!) by stepping in close and repositioning his grip on his weapon and so on and so forth.

The bright smile and genuine delight when he praises Ryan when he gets a move right. (Ryan being thrown and pinned and all that Good Shit when Jeremy disarms him and shows him – and their audience – how to stay alive until they can get a weapon in their hands.

Jeremy breaking off every so often to help the others, encourage the kids to keep at it because practice is how you improve! Mistakes are part of learning! And other uplifting things.

And then it rains again, everyone running to shelter and Ryan ends up eating in the humble little home of Jeremy’s adopted family and just.

A lot of Things I Love all tossed together.

And then!

A few days later Michael and the others find Ryan again and they have to finish their trek back to the castle.

Michael and the others giving Ryan and Jeremy Privacy while they make their goodbyes and totally not giving Ryan grief about it on the way back to the castle. (They would never!!11)

Ryan gets home and there’s a Touching Reunion between him and Geoff and Jack and once he’s settled back in they get on with the coronation business.

Shortly after Ryan’s coronation Trevor sidles over to let him know there’s Serious Business to see to at court, a matter of Treason ans such?

Ryan is like, well shit, because it’s like the billionth time since he took the throne. (Assassination attempts and Plotting To Overthrow the Mad King and so on.)

When the offender if brought before him it’s Jeremy.

Bound in chains and looking ragged like he’s been ill-treated before being brought to court for his crimes.

Which, as it turns out, is the whole teaching the people in his village how to fight? (Ryan’s enemies digging deep, or a sycophant chancing upon Jeremy hoping to curry favor with Ryan for exposing this nobody who is clearly out to incite rebellion.)

Trevor and Alfredo have obviously been keeping close watch on Jeremy – Ryan clearly liked him *wink wink* and also Jeremy’s own Potential and such – so they intervened when he was arrested and insisted he be brought before Ryan.

And then!

Someone rips the hood off Jeremy’s head and he’s like. He figures he’s going to be executed so he comes out firing, lays out this list of injustices against his village and others like it out there and just goes on and on and on until he runs out of breath.

The whole court is silent because such insolence?

Trevor clears his throat, which is Ryan’s cue to speak – he flubs badly - but recovers and addresses Jeremy’s grievances with the due respect they deserve, promises change will happen and Jeremy is like what the shit, because that’s Ryan???

Idiot who didn’t know how to hold s sword and always ended up on his back in the mud no matter how blatantly Jeremy telegraphed his moves and oh shit oh shit oh shit, he’s the king???

And then!!1!

Because Ryan can’t just let the whole Treason business slide, he does Research. Makes the mistake of asking Geoff what he should do – Jeremy’s not wrong for anything he did- and Geoff okay.

Super fucking Tired of everything makes what’s meant to be a throwaway joke about this insanely old tradition of the king and concubines and whatever. Something from the days their people were conquerors and Ryan is like !!!

And so he goes down to the dungeon cell Jeremy’s in. Michael goes along too, because people are constantly trying to kill Ryan and the king is a goddamned moron, but he gives them the semblance of privacy as Ryan fumbles his way to explaining his offer to Jeremy?

Jeremy who just stares at Ryan because what the actual hell is happening? (But you know, given the choice between public execution or pretending to be Ryan’s concubine? It’s an easy enough choice.)

Jeremy has the chance to ~earn his freedom for services rendered (he almost, almost laughs at the way Ryan’s face turns bright red during this part because lol, what a fearsome tyrant he is. Lost to his own madness and so on) and all that.

And then it’s just.

Romcom shenanigans with Jeremy swanning around taking advantage of his new job title or whatever you want to call it. Enjoys fucking with Ryan once he realizes he really is an idiot. He and Michael get along too well for Ryan’s peace of mind – they’re terrible enough on their own, but absolutely horrible when they team up.

Ryan can’t tell if the Twins are teaching Jeremy or if it’s the other way around, and is too scared to ask.

Geoff and Jack are freaking dying over Ryan being the one to Suffer for once.

And then there’s some Grand Conspiracy against Ryan Jeremy helps thwart? Pretends to go along with the conspirators because he’s been turned into a concubine and surely will want his revenge and Ryan is all :((((((((((((((((((((((( thinking Jeremy’s been playing him for a fool this entire time, that it was all an act – but then Jeremy reveals it was all a plot to capture the conspirators and Ryan you dunce, of course Jeremy’s madly in love with you.

And then, like.

Romance???

Ryan finally able to push new laws through that the conspirators who have been blocking them for so long are either dead or disgraced and everyone else are in favor of these changes.

Happily ever after for everyone, although Ryan laments the days Jeremy would go around shirtless all the time. (Not proper for the king’s husband, although Jeremy indulges him when they can because Ryan’s just that ridiculous.)

Jerevin:

Newly crowned king, Gavin plays the part of a fool because his is a small kingdom, right? In no real position to go to war over the smallest slight. Seems to bow and scrape to other kings and queens and only those paying close attention realize his kingdom gets the better part of any deal they make.

Perhaps not immediately noticeable, some take years to show the benefits they’ll reap, but his kingdom is happy and prosperous.

(The kingdom straddles a mountain range with treacherous paths and only a few routes viable for those on either side, so they see a lot of trade and the whatnot. Have managed to avoid war for generation by knowing how to negotiate deals with all parties coming away from the table satisfied and such.)

Jeremy’s a young guard who was born in a neighboring country and found himself enlisting in Gavin’s army...because reasons and circumstances. (Former street rat and no loyalty to any royal, but he’s heard good things about this new king and anyway, he’ll get a roof over his head and meals and coin for his pouch. Better deal than anything else he could find and he’s only expected to serve for three, four years  at most.)

He’s there in Gavin’s entourage on the way back from a negotiation when there’s an ambush – regular bandits or something more, no one knows – and he saves Gavin’s life.

Takes an arrow to the knee and tries to laugh it off when Gavin goes to the healer’s tent to check on him. All those stories he’d heard from city guards and veteran soldiers. Worried about future prospects but at least he’s alive?

And then there’s a misunderstanding or some such. Gavin just wanted to repay him for saving his life, intended to find him a suitable position in the castle proper once everything settled down some, but you know.

Suddenly everyone thinks Gavin took a liking to this young guard and made him his concubine?

Perhaps there was a Thing before the ambush in which the two of them stayed up all night playing card games or whatever in Gavin’s chambers. People thinking it was a bit more intimate than Gavin falling asleep partway through the night because exhaustion from his duties and Jeremy putting him to bed with this goofy little smile because FEELS and keeping watch.

Gavin being utterly mortified while Jeremy is initially confused because deciding to make the most of it. (Makes Gavin’s skeptics super uncomfortable and teases the hell out of Gavin and general romcom shenanigans before they get their shit together and realize they have FEELINGS for one another and happily ever after.)

Jerevinwood:

This whole plot where Gavin’s entourage is ambushed and while no one is killed, Gavin’s the only one fit to travel.

Michael and the others refuse to let Gavin go on without protection of some sort even though he insists he can look after himself -

And exasperate with their stubbornness, turns to this pair of mercenaries that were instrumental in turning the tide of the ambush in their favor.

Not even from his kingdom, but their own loyalty it to one another and other cliches, and he offers them a ridiculous amount of money to safeguard him until he’s back at the castle and among other loyal to him.

Ryan and Jeremy are kind of uneasy about it, but easy enough money and they were headed that direction anyway.

Not their fault if they develop feelings for this foolish little king along the way and vice versa.

Get back to the castle where Gavin spins a lie about his entourage taking ill – food poisoning or whatever – and traveling behind him as they’re able. (Something, something conspiracy?)

And oh, look. Treat Ryan and Jeremy nice, he’s rather sweet on them.

Ryan and Jeremy hamming it up as his concubines and daring the advisors who are part of the conspiracy to Do Something when they correct the two of them whenever they challenge the baddies on some bit of strategy or whatever.

General sort of romcom shenanigans mixed with Intrigue and so on.

Michael and the others get back to the castle just as things  reach the boiling point and then like. Battles and fighting and Ryan and Jeremy saving Gavin’s life and exposing the traitors in the process, because Drama.

And then Gavin being all :((((((((((((((((( because he thinks Ryan and Jeremy are that skilled as actors and Michael kind of wanting to throttle his idiot king. Kicks him out of the castle and tells him to bring those other idiots back before someone else hires them as his concubines and it turns into utter ridiculousness. (Also Touching and Heartfelt reunions in a forest glen beside a babbling brook and Confessions of Undying Love and also smooches.)

(I really, really, love these three in this scenario? But in my head it’s a mix of Drama and Romcom and just them being the biggest idiots ever. XD)

Jeremavinwood:

Okay.

So.

Young King Jeremy with personal guard Michael who’s injured protecting his king and general misunderstandings and awkwardness of everyone thinking Jeremy’s claimed Michael as his concubine? (Kind of a twisted childhood sweethearts deal.)

Featuring Gavin and Ryan who are members of the thieves/assassin’s guild in the city but due to Reasons no one knows which of them belongs to what guild?

The love fucking with people about it and so do their guild members, and anyway, the guilds are so closely allied it doesn’t matter?

So you’ve got Gavin and Ryan occasionally breaking into the castle – testing security and toying with spymaster Trevor and his Alfredo (No one knows what Alfredo does aside from Trevor and Alfredo and honestly, it’s too much trouble to ask, so.)

Those moments when Gavin just pops up out of nowhere, dagger at Jeremy’s throat and a cheerful grin asking him where his guards are now before things devolve to hand-to-hand and one/both of them pinning the other and mischievous grins and almost kissing before they’re reminded of propriety and their positions and suchlike? Or Ryan stalking Michael down int eh city or castle halls and an impromptu sparring match with Ryan being a smug prick riling Michael up – Michael letting Ryan think he’s riled him before he turns the tables on him and knocks his feet out from under him and also the pinning of one another.

Gavin dropping in on Michael and asking him the most infuriating questions while Michael’s working on his swordsmanship against a dummy until he decides Gavin’s footwork needs polishing. Ryan sprawled on Jeremy’s throne on a night when Jeremy’s head is full of turmoil and he doubts his decisions as king. Ryan taunting and needling him until Jeremy has a breakthrough moment of realizing he’s not a perfect ruler but he tries to be, and that’s a hell of a start and so on.

And just.

The four of them with this odd relationship that is the talk of the kingdom – everyone knows but there’s never any evidence. (With the thieves and assassin’s guilds involved, of course there isn’t.)

And then comes a day when Gavin and Ryan are accused of Jeremy and Michael's murders and have to break out of the dungeons after they've been captured.

At first it’s to bring the real killers to justice/get their revenge? But then they learn it’s a Conspiracy and Jeremy and Michael are still alive so they have to rescue them and then do the bring the baddies to justice/revenge bit.

If they’re forced to confront their FEELINGS for those two idiots and vice versa in the process – then that’s the price they have to pay.

(Because of course Jeremy and Michael have been told Gavin and Ryan are going to be executed for their “murders”, will be forced to watch it before they’re killed to cover everything up and God knows they’re going to do their damnedest to escape/make the baddies pay for their crimes.)

Super dramatic reunion scene/climactic battle and then like. ALL the FEELINGS as they finally admit they’re totally in love with one another and have been for ages and EVERYONE KNEW THIS WHOLE TIME BUT THEM.

Jeremichael:

So this is one that sticks closest to the original premise in my head?

Michael and Jeremy who train together as kids.

Jeremy from a poor village who intends to send what money he can home to his family and the village and young prince Michael whose parents think it’s best he not think himself too above the people whose welfare he’s responsible for.

They become good friends early on – maybe a bit of youth and ego at first, but that fades as they get to know one another over time. Goes from being something on it’s way to ugly and bitter to friendly teasing as they work together to improve their skills.

And then there’s an accident, some stupid little thing, and Jeremy’s going to be sent back to his village once he’s healed enough. Won’t ever become a guard with that limp or whatever else injury, but he’s young enough he can learn a trade. (Bitter seed planted in his heart because he doesn’t have the money to gain an apprenticeship, but pride and whatnot.)

Michael doesn’t know until later, Jeremy about to be sent home and he rushes to find him. Thought he’d done something to make Jeremy mad with him, not knowing Jeremy thought the same about Michael and that was why Michael never came to see him after the accident.

Michael catches him as he’s packing to leave and panicking he latches onto the last thing his tutors drilled into his head, old, outdated (barbaric) traditions having to do with concubines and blurts out an idea to keep Jeremy with him?

Tells him he’ll have a roof over his head and food and money to send home and all that and misses the way Jeremy’s face twists. (Budding feeling for Michael soured by this Deal Michael wants to make with him and of course, of course Michael wouldn’t see him in that way. He's going to be king, and Jeremy’s some poor kid who lost his chance at being someone.)

Still.

The prospect of being able to help his family and his village are too good to pass up and he accepts.

Michael insists on Jeremy being his training partner so he still learns how to fight properly even if he tires easier and the like. (Thinks Michael’s being kind when he tells Jeremy he’s improving and all that even thought Michael’s telling him the truth. Because okay, sure. Jeremy’s not as strong as he used to be, but he’s still fast and clever and compensates for his injury in brilliant ways.)

Jeremy acts as both ~concubine/advisor/additional bodyguard and falls even more in love with Michael who doesn’t seem to notice?

Meanwhile, Michael is head over heels for Jeremy but is super aware of abusing his power/position in life and thinks Jeremy couldn’t possibly like him in That Way.

Cue abominable amounts of Pining until there’s an Incident.

Some terrible storm while they’re on a ship to meet with a potential suitor for Michael and end up stranded on an island (because reasons) and have to rely on one another to survive until rescue comes.

And then FEELINGS and Realizations and just when they’re about to get to the whole Confessions bit, a fisherman happens upon their island and brings them home.

Michael’s swept away to deal with his Duties and the like and Jeremy is mostly ignored and they don’t see one another until there’s a fancy ball.

Michael’s birthday or a solstice or something, and Michael’s all dressed up and so is Jeremy and they have that oh no, not only is he hot but he cleans up real nice moment when they see one another for the first time that night.

Michael’s supposed to pay attention to the various royals who traveled to meet with hi as possible suitors, but he has eyes only for Jeremy and vice versa.

They sneak off to a quiet corner and awkwardly compliment one another and make small talk. Stop to watch the fireworks display overhead and there’s this series of horribly awkward events that ends in their hands brushing together. Eyes drawn towards their hands, slowly lifting so their gazes meet and they decide independently of one another fuck it because this may be their only chance to steal a smooch, right?

Michael's meant to marry and have heirs and Jeremy...he’s a sham, a fraud. Never made it as a soldier/guard and  a poor choice of concubine, so please, please, please let him have this one thing.

And then they kiss, and kiss again, and just kind of don’t stop until one/both of them confesses their love and then it’s just this slippery slope of requited love and all that until there’s really no choice but for them to get married, you know?

Horrible, really. (However will they manage???)

[kaiju-z]

FINALLY back on track, after a month and a half of stuff getting in our way, but here we are with session 20!!!

Seon Adventures Episode 20: Going Solo...

With the passing of the night, comes the light of day.

The trio of Belli, Luctan and Mournimar awake alongside Morgan and the elf baby with notably Amelia, Archie, Burk and Rimefang missing. Luctan does elaborate where Amelia had gone, though it gets missed in the confusion when everyone wonders what happened with Burk.

Thinking quickly on her feet, Belli sends a message to Burk to check where he is. But all he answers with is that  Rimefang’s fine, don’t know where Amelia is.”

As Luctan fixes the baby up for the day, packing him like a little baby burrito (a babitto, if you will), the remaining bunch go upstairs, while Belli gives a call to Amelia. Amelia, who had been having the most wonderful of sleeps she has had since a long while.

“No.”

Belli sends her a message again with a whistle.

“No. Just no.”

Luctan has to repeat himself on where Amelia actually is, much to the amusement of the adopted duo.

As they climb up the stairs, everything seems normal and as expected from the previous night, people coming and going, welcomed and- And the party for some reason get approached by a very confused human, wearing the robes of the temple of Keemis.

Brunette, with an undercut, in his 30′s, scars on his arms and face, the kind man delivers a letter to the bunch, asking if they’re the Cultbusters.

“Are you the Cultbusters?”

“Depends on who’s asking?”- Belli.

“3 of them!”- Mournimar.

After a brief sibling argument about just up and telling people their identities, the man elaborates that the letter is written by Burk. Or. Well, he helped Burk write that letter for the party.

Mournimar is the one to read it to everyone else. All lower case, a lot of the words are misspelled.

“ hi. this is from burk. i am leaving now. ive been thinking and i think i do not need to be here anymore. i found one of the guys i was looking for and it was really easy and no ofense but i was hoping for cold hard killers and u r not. but you were all realy nice to me, nicer than any one has before so i am going to miss all of u very much. rimefang is coming with me because hes too cool for u. also i think hes geting bigger cause he started sheding or some thing i dont know. i left some scales for u, and ur share of the gold. there is a lot of stuff i wana go do and i feel bad draging u guys with me so i gotta go do it my self. but i want u all to know im not just going to kill people for me. i am doing stuff for u. For amelia and luc i am going to come back and we are gona have the best fight ever and learn a lot. For beli i am going to steal the biggest shinyest kazoo i can find. For morni i will stop punching wolfs and also be nicer to weird animals i find in the forest. u were all very nice and good with peeple and not good at vilence, and thats a good thing. but i dont fit in. bye for a while

 burk “

The trio are devastated. Belli is the most vocal, with Mournimar having to calm her down, while Luctan stands stoically, with the baby in his arm.

Burk left.

It’s heart breaking.

It’s heart breaking and the cleric tries to cast Calm Emotions on the lot of them to try and soothe their woes. Mournimar fails his save, Luctan doesn’t even try and Belli tanks that and starts shouting at him for imposing his magic on them, without their consent.

“Don’t you fucking dare try and tell me what to fucking feel.” -  She is emotion personified.

When things calm down, Luctan apologizes and asks for the messenger’s name.

“ My name is Malak. I am a Devotee of Keemis. I’ve been living here in this temple for a few years.” He had heard of the Cultbusters’ reputation and found interest and want to join them on their questing, seeing as they’ve stirred some cults out of their comfort.

Thrown them out of their rhythm, if you will.

He is accepted, Belli referring to him as their “intern” for now and, with introductions made, and Malak gathering his equipment, the bunch of them take to the last tavern they had gone to for breakfast and meeting back up with Amelia.

Amelia waits for them there. Nel had spoken to her about how she managed to get her mother to agree on leaving town for a while with the help of a family friend. And she had made some sort of offer to Amelia.

The group are again together at the tavern and introduce Malak. Amelia and Malak shake hands as a distraught Belli pays the tavern keeper to go and work the kitchen for a while.

Amelia encourages her. “The fact he wrote us a letter means he cared about The Cultbusters.” She gently holds Belli’s arm, ‘cause Belli’s abandonment issues have kicked in hard.

There’s stress baking and then there’s stress cooking. And Belli does this handily. And she makes... so much food! 1st, second, third Breakfasts, if those were actual things, of course.

“It’ll be alright. He had to do what he had to do.”

As Belli comes and goes with increasingly more and more plates of food, we end up talking about the baby and his future. The little elven boy keeps tugging at Luctan’s hair, fussing at him and getting fussed at.

A few suggestions get made. From Malak’s suggestion to raise the child in the orphanage, to the talk with Nel the other day, involving handing him over to a rich family.

The decision is hard to make. Whether he likes it or not, Luctan’s attached himself to the little one, but he knows he can’t keep him with the party as dangers keep increasing on their journey. He had been having waking flashes back to every incident since the child was with them and how scared he was from the screams and roars and hurts and aches.

He couldn’t let the baby travel with them further. He knew what he was going to do, regardless of where the baby went, but still.

Amelia catches up with Malak on his Keemis Clergy work.

 He’s been at this for 5-6 years or so. He heard about the party after the CB helped arrest the local cultists. He’s fascinated by souls and how they transition, based on their alignment. He’s searching for an answer to this question. Basically, he’s looking for research.

Amelia asks where he’s from.

“I’m from Lian. It is not a good place to raise a kid and I left home, got a lot of people from my home town killed. We wanted to leave, thought we’d make our own band of soldiers to fight in the war and I’m the only one left. And so I try to find some meaning in the senseless death and resurrection and ended up meeting some Keemis priests. Fell in with them and came up here.”

The gang try to cheer him up about his backstory woes and some end up sharing their own troubles. Mournimar does so. Luctan gives away the shocker that his family owned slaves and that triggered his sense of aiding those in need, freeing the captive ones and fleeing via teleport scroll.  And lastly Belli tells the tragic story of her family.

Doting on the baby commences, while Mournimar gives Malak some pointers on the shenanigans he is up for with Belli, now that he is part of the group.

Following their hefty meal, Mournimar gets his new armor. Better fitted than his previous one. Since he found it in the barracks??? This one is more custom. Studded Leather, which raises his AC + 1

Going back on forth on where to go next, during this tragic shopping episode, Belli shares Burk’s treasures with the cleric, seeing as he had left them for the rest.

Before anything can be really bought, though, aside of the meals, we go for the payment on the Serial Kilelr job.

As the party draw closer to the dungeons, Mournimar suggests Belli let Luctan talk, which offends Belli, who gets encouragement from Luck and Malak that she’ll do great. Malak ingretiating himself by casting Guidance and Enhance Ability on the Half-Orc Bard, right before she approaches the receptionists, an older Half-Elf man and a yellow tiefling.

“Now is the time to prove them wrong.”

The conversation is quick and Belli shines during this process. We are thanked, the lot of us, for the work we did and are pointed to the office of the Captain in charge.

While walking, we get a few pointers on places to visit around town.

Generally South-West of the city is a good night’s time.” the HElf answers Amelia. Though, uh,  he wouldn’t know personally. Definitely.

We walk down to the office, knock on the door before walking in.

We are welcomed in by the Halfling woman inside. She’s dressed well for her job. Not exactly the outfit one would expect for prison duty, but then again, they didn’t have a good idea on that, themselves. Blue eyes observe us warmly and kindly, through a wavy bob haircut, while she fiddles with the cuff of one of her sleeves. Her office is bare, maybe she’s new, maybe it’s how she likes it.

She kind of looks everyone up and down. “I’m guessing you’re the folks we’ve been expecting, huh?”

The party apologize as they didn’t have a proper schedule in mind and the thought is shared vice-versa as it just... Really was like that sometimes? Often times?! A lot. It happened a lot.

For finding the hide out of the slayer of cityfolk, for convincing his husband to give himself up and testify about his beloved, the ‘busters gain a monetary reward. As she pulls out a big chest on the table, Belli tries to convince her to unionise. To some possible success? She certainly seems curious about the suggestion itself.

Ames kinda looks her up and down and gives a smol little thumbs up

She’s a valuable worker, she’s worth more.

On behalf of the city of Crystalgate, thank you for all of your efforst in intervening with the issue. The culprits have been dealt with.” Much to the four original members’ surprise, the husband has been released, having promissedto turn over a new leaf.

Luctan would later ask the captain, who introduced herself to the five as River Blackbrace (Just River), where he could find the husband and, after ensuring her that he planned no ill will towards the man, she guesses he’d be back in town or at one of the temples.

The woman feels like rewarding us with more, since this isn’t her gold, yeah? Lots of paperwork time prevented. The five are given suggestions on places to go and spend our money. Between " Neladrie's Rarities” and “Snipper’s Hall’, the clothing store of Grinella, they have some good options on their way.

Grinella is the best at her work, as far as River’s concerned.

Before they go, we mention to River that we plan on participating in the Spring Festival’s tournament.

River mentions that it was originally created as a celebration of the heroes Septum Sabata. It’s a series of trials re-creating what they went through to save everyone. Malak has watched it a few times and things happening around the arena a few good times. He’s the local CG expert.

And if they really feel down, there’s also a place... a-a-

Café where they summon fae animals.

And should they need a good book,  there’s a library in the north east. “The Lady Stormweaver National Library.” The conversation about books prompts Luctan to show off the “Handerstaad” he got from Sa Doma.

And River spills the tea that Kheyha is a local. And has spent some time in the dungeons for her alcoholism antics. (Never meet your heroes, kids.)

They are suggested to stay away from the Ebryosis followers. Best leave those kinky fellas to their own “dungeons”.

As they walk walk to the clothes and magical trinkets shops, Mournimar has a heart to heart with Belli, apologizing for his behavior. While Luctan checks the money with Malak. The sibs hug it out, while the money is counted and distributed amongst all of them, even as Malak protests some.

There’s a faint tingle of wind chimes as the five go to one of the most eclectic collections of goods of various kinds we’ve ever seen. Sort of an order to it, anyways. A rainbow pattern across the show. Vaguely arranged in no particular order. Pretty much everything’s in a different size and shape.

A high elven woman, Neladrie, sits in a tall stool behind a desk, very long hair. She glances vaguely at us and has a monocular on.

Good morning. Feel free to look around. Please be aware you’re being watched, so don’t get any funny ideas. And Welcome.”  She points at her watchful little pseudodragon, watching from the rafters.

Belli uses mage hand to pat the dragon.

She knows she’s a good gorl.

The search commences as each member of the party search foritems with some help of the shopkeeper.

Malak gains supplies for his Divination magic, including dragon bones.

Mournimar tries and fails to find anything that could enhance his wisdom.

Amelia gets her hands on some lovely sea shells.

Luctan gets helped with finding a focus for his recently developed magical abilities. A small purple crystal.

All the while Belli takes her pick, between some wild musical instruments.

There is an holy banjo with all the gods’ symbols.

There’s a great axe with a wider handle. A didgerydeath, if you will.

And also, what appears to be a kazoo 2. One sort of kazoo entrance and branches out into different sights. It’s like if a kazoo had different pitches.

There’s also a set of bagpipes.

And last, but not least, an ukulele of sorts. Upon testing it, the ukulute sounds like a spannish guitar, almost.

Ostentatious is her brand and after testing all the instruments, she agrees to buy the ukulute.

With purchases made, the gang take the next step of their journey, going to the “Snipper’s Hall”, where they meet the one and only  Grindelia Snipper. A Goblin Woman, standing atop a 7ft tall step ladder, measuring a tall model with her arm tattoo.

“OH! Welcome!” 

"Snipper’s Hall” is a long building, like a miniature Viking lounge house, with elements of stone to keep it stable. There is a wide variety of different sort of premade outfits, models of different heights going from 4.5 to 8ft tall... And. There’s a jewelry section.

After a greeting, the party make their requests and orders in a friendly sort of manner. Mournimar buys a jacket and a stag brooch, Belli gets herself a new, lovely outfit, a dress of blue and pink, as well as a canine bracelet. Malak’s fine as he is and Amelia is left uncertain with what to purchase.

Upon Luctan’s request... A custom outfit which’ll take a few days to put together, the poor secret Tieflingman gets handled with amazing strength and tenacity by the spunky and overly friendly goblin woman, who measures him nice and well with her arm and finger, taking his numbers with keen eyes, even with his armor still on.

He can’t be sure why, but the very suggestion she’s sent people to get treatment over the roughhousing sends a chill down his spine. The elf baby just has a blast during the entire developement.

Business transaction made, the next stop is “Peppery Pete’s Pile of Potions.”

Belli is still angry with the old gnome, over his potions involving Orcish strength, given the negative stereotype about Orcish intelligence lowering the user’s titular stat.

A stern talking to is to be had, before any dealings get made there.

Along the way to the shop, Luctan asks Malak if he knows anything about the tournament, beyond what the party had heard and he shares his knowledge with the gang:

“The Tournament is divided into three trials The Trial of the Elemental Lords, the Trial of the Beast and the Trial of the Betrayed.

The Trial of the Elemental Lords involves the blending of the elements being worked into a challenge that teams must overcome together.

The Trial of the Beast involves fighting a mighty beast that establishes victors as a cut above the rest.

The Trial of the Betrayed is the grand finale, the remaining 2 groups battle it out. But there are clerics on standby. You cannot aim to kill, just to knock unconscious. Any deliberate murder would be acted upon as such in a court of lawAfter the tournament, a party is held for all groups within the Echosmith Hall and the champions are presented with their rewards.”

Luctan’s mind wanders. Things to be re-worked in his goals.

The lot of them soon reach the shop and, upon summoning Pete inside, welcomes are had. Arguing commences between the Half-Orc and the Gnome as Pete ultimately admits that he stopped producing the particualr offending potion, much to the losses in his product.

Ideas are being thrown around on potions Pete could work on in turn, before any business could be had, involving the party’s wants and needs.

Aside from getting a Greater Health Potion and a new Potion of Wizard’s Folly (after giving his first one to Danton back in Sa Doma), the party have... particular requests.

Belli takes note of the “ Basilisk Tears “ potion. For 200 gold, she most definitely buys that and makes plans. Fast plans on the use.

On Luctan’s end, with the deal being made for Peter sponsoring the adventurers for the tournament to come, Luctan gives in to the support of the full party, now that they are all in the shop, as opposed to only half there. With the price for his sword’s modification being brought down to 1,000 gold and the helping hand of Mournimar, Amelia and Malak, who didn’t even want the share of money given to him, Luctan accets.

And hands his greatsword over to the gnome for the specific enchantments he requested.

Belli has that moment of realization, you know? The one, where you just know that you have to move, while the moving is available and contacts Ficus about the Potion of Basilisk Tears, a concoction that might JUST bring her family back to their old selves!

With the party’s blessings, she runs off towards the Crusty Challice, where Ficus will wait for her.

But she doesn’t go alone as Mournimar tails her, just to make sure she doesn’t get messed with, before getting to her older brother. All the while the rest of the group are welcomed to the back of the shop by Pete for training.

As the work out commences, Mournimar follows. And as he follows, he keeps an eye out for anyone shady that might be watching Belli on her way out of the walls of the city.

He doesn’t see anyone. But gets the feeling that he is watched. He investigates that feeling. He notices that someone in the crowd is watching him. Seems to be, looks like a bald older man, stocky built, little bit tall and for a second the tiefling swears there's the faint glimmer of horns in his shadow, but then they disappear. As does he as Mournimar tries to find him in the crowd. To no avail.

Regardless, he continues on the path to the tavern.

There’s a bit of a smog in the tavern as people’ve lit cigarettes and pipes. Belli and Ficus have a good long talk as she shows him the potion of Basilisk tears. They are shaken, misty eyed and anxious to see if it works. This horror that befell their family... It could end in the next couple of days!

By the time she hugs Ficus, Mournimar has entered the tavern and commenced watching over the shadyness that may be observed from the patrons.

Which is to say, he’s basically looking through a sea of shade.

He does notice, though, one of the bartenders has a sort of, finely shaped jaw and stood up black hair, a bit of stubble and seems to be watching Mournimar a bit more intently than normal.

Mournimar tries to stealth closer to the guy, even though he’s aware. He tries to figure out who the guy is, but he has no idea.

Eye contact is made between the two as the guy slides a glass with Brandy over to Mournimar and just continues with his work behind the bar.

Mourni has a leetl sip to make sure everything’s Gucci. Tastes like some of the brandy from around Bavorum. Nostalgic.

Through some small talk, Mournimar learns that the man’s name is “Joe”. Just a working Joe, you know?

It’s less of a talk and more of an interrogation as they don’t break eye contact.

“The brandy’s on the house, Mournimar.” the man answers with the name that the tiefling hadn’t given him. Like. At all.

No answer given on how he knows that.

He backs out the back door with a wink and Mournimar follows after her.

There’s no way the Half-Orcs don’t see this by now and they dash and jump on after the digitigrade ranger, who finds himself and Morgan out in the back alley, with no sign of the mystery man, named Joe.

He tries everything he can, from following tracks, to Hunter’s Mark, to Morgan’s snoofer, but nothing works. The man is just... gone.

With the Narahs catching up to him, he explains what happened and has to be talked down from pointlessly searching for a man, or whoever, who is just “GONE”.

It is then that Belli must explain to him that she has to leave Crystalgate with Ficus. To try the potion on her family. It’s hard on Mournimar, but the frazzled tiefling understands.

Belli hands him Orion and states that, if anything is to happen, she’ll call the others. They then agree to meet up with the others for a proper goodbye.

The others, by the way, doing pretty well for themselves in this new enviroment.

A deal has been made that every time Amelia does good in the training, Archie gets a treat.

Given that the chunky kitty is on his back, getting pats on his big belly from the baby, she’s killed this training.

The entire development has left the running quartet staggering back to the rest of the party. Mournimar doesn’t spot anything off on the way back. 

As everyone reconvenes, Mournimar gives them an update on the respective situations, giving in detail a description of this “Joe” character. He worries it could be related to Lazarus, his ex. Or Kahlia. Or Potencia herself. He gets calmed by Luctan’s wording on the subject.

“We’re a bunch of famous and attractive people. Let’s face it. we have fans.”

As the party splits up, with Belli making her goodbyes with the rest of the gang, Luctan Blesses her and Ficus, which catches Malak’s attention. Thinking about the type of magic being used, he can tell that, though holy, it is not one of the Five that has given Luctan his abilities.

With Belli and Ficus taking Kevin and Killer, the rest of the party opt to go to the circus on the outskirts of town.

“The Voluptani Mystique “, a big tent circus in the north-west part of town’s outskirts. It’s fabulous on the outside.

They pay and notice at the entrance, a red skinned tiefling woman with a long, ball gown dress, leaning against the booth she stood inside and she waves a hand over and leaves a small mark with Prestidigitation.

Lead inside,  it’s basically how you imagine a circus. An arena with seats around the circle. The four and their animal companions take a seat at the front as the Dancing Lights Cantrip flies around the tent, lighting and highlighting everything and everyone gathered, people of many walks of life. Just here for a little show to end the evening.

A cloud of smoke emits from the middle and the huge entrance of the tent swings shut.

Inside the cloud the lights start hovering, we can see the lights start changing color and go in different directions, erratic and suddenly there are hops from around the room where everyone’s sitting. And back in the middle, when they look, they see a high elf woman with pitch black hair falling long and wavy towards the bottom.

She stands with one hand in the air and one hand spread outwards towards the side. She pauses, looks around the audience and she whistles three high pitched notes. She snaps with her pointing up hand and the lights skatter, going right towards the audience. The cloud disappears and in the time it was there, the original woman is gone and there are two halflings, a man and a woman and they start doing all sorts of contortions. They entwine and roll in a ball. Throughout the whole show there is this almost hypnotic flute music. Pyrotechnic displays and after each one, there is a set of three elven dancer,s almost dangerously close as they maneuver around. Really fucking weird. A whole lot of illusion magic is happening here.

At one point the elven dancers starts flying around and Mallak, being a local, has seen this before.

After 3 hours of this weird bewhildering performance the entire room lights up and it’s completely clear and the original high elf woman, who’s actually an eladrin, is still in that same pose as when things started.

And she says “Thank you all once again, as always, please leave your tips with faith on the way out and thank you. She snaps with fingers and purple energy surrounds her as she leaves.

Bewhildered and amazed, Mournimar kinda wants to give this a go. Run away and joy the circus? Follow your dream, bud!

Having been in Crystalgate for a few years now, Malak had abided in a few viewings of the spectacle and, though it’s often with some modifications, it’s generlaly been the same good experience over time. He’s happy.

Amelia shares with the gang about the possibility of hanging out at Nel’s for a few days. As though there was any question on whether they would say “no” to such an offer.

 As the night covers the sky above Crystalgate, the party find themselves again at the rich sector of town, being watched by a guard.  Nel arrives at the gate, red faced after messaging Amelia. She forgot to give her a badge and was now paying the price with the run she had to make.

Sadly, though a talented bard,  Nel has the muscle content of a slug.

The party soon make it back to Shadowspire Manner, lead by Nel, after introducing Mal to the Half-Elven woman and sharing of Burk’s departure.

They are shown around. the rooms, the kitchen, everything they’d need, before she takes Amelia’s hand and leads her to her room. Nel’s room. She is the body guard and she must guard that body.

Mournimar and Malak opt to crash in Luctan’s room for the evening, deciding not to split the party any further than this.

Luctan watches out of a window for about an hour, while humming to the baby, before going to bed.

As Mournimar and Malak sleep, Mournimar has some kind of dream...

But Luctan doesn’t sleep.

No.

Instead, once he’s sure the others have fallen in rem sleep, he sneaks outside and goes for a short walk around the neighbourhood, doing whatever it is that he does at this time.

After coming back in, 5-10-20-to-30 minutes later, he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and notices a shadow close to Mournimar, with no one casting it.

Then it disappears.

After investigating out the window, Luctan goes to bed and meditates... on something else.....

Day 2 comes to an end.

Previous Episode / Halloween Episode / Next Episode

[calamity-flames]

I got tagged by @lit-hedgehog to do one of those posts where you share stuff about yourself. Since I still don’t know a ton of folks, if you wanna do it, go for it and say I tagged you, then tag 8 new people for it! I’ll do this anyways because it seems like fun haha (plus I don’t post much about myself here)

Name: I go by a lot of names really. Usually SFE, sometimes Uno, sometimes Roxy. Take your pick

Birthday: August 5, so only a few days away

Zodiac: Leo! Though I honestly don’t know much about that stuff lol

Hobbies: drawing (duh), a few video games, sleeping, day dreaming, various crafting, annoying my cats, tbh I don’t do much

Favorite colors: anything from yellow to purple (not a fan of red and orange usually) but usually green and blue are my favs

Favorite books: it’s been a while since I’ve had patience to just read, but a few I’ve always liked are “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, “A Wrinkle in Time”, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, and “Eva Luna”. And basically anything by Edgar Allen Poe!

Last song you listened to: “Smile” by Mikky Ekko

Last movie you’ve watched: I finally saw Toy Story 4 today!

Your inspiration or muse: I get inspiration from life around me and wherever my brain takes me that day. Maybe I was watching a movie about cowboys and thinking of a cowboy centaur! (True story actually). I get ideas from movies, shows, songs, scenery, or just out of the blue

Dream job: realistically, i would love to be a creature designer/modeller/animator for a big company. Either movies or games. But actual dream job? Getting paid a lot for just doing what I want to and getting to relax and learn more about what I love without worrying. But that’s tough

What does your URL mean: when I first discovered role playing on a game I had years ago, my first character was named Saphire Flames. Misspelled because I didn’t notice at the time and I never corrected it. Due to how bad everyone was at making characters, she ended up a goddess, and a dark one due to my anger at those people. Her sister, Flora, was made to combat that anger so I could have more fun. Then Emerald came along to be completely different and free. Though he ended up more depressed than I planned (that’s a story for another day). Anyways, their remaining siblings (Amethyst, Biota, Radia) didn’t come along until later, so I only had the three gods. When I made an instagram and other accounts, I decided to use their names. Saphire, Flora, and Emerald Flames. SFE Flames. I still use it, but I’m considering changing it some day

Anyways, that’s some stuff about me no one really wanted to know but here it is lol. If you want to participate, tag 8 of your friends when you do it! And me so I can see your answers! If you have any other questions for me (If you’re curious) just message me or leave me an ask and you’ll make my week ^_^

[least-among-hamiltons]

💋 – giving them an open mouth kiss [ mcgraw is THIRSTY ]

it is still early enough that thomas feels no shame in admitting that he has trouble thinking of anything that isn’t james. miranda, in her infinite wisdom, had cleared their schedules as much as possible in preparation for the earl’s arrival, and, true, part of what had tipped him into recklessness that night was the unbalancing effect his father had on him. but james had seen this, recognized it, and kissed thomas again before telling him to call on him in three days when his father’s shadow had passed out of his mind. and thomas had paced, and sat, and read, and miranda had vanished as she was wont to do so as to trap him, in essence, alone with his thoughts. and think he did, paced until his knees protested at the stiffness of the heels of his shoes. paced barefoot in his bedroom, then, after he’d attempted to rest. and while he forced himself to confront that his carelessness had come from his father’s shadow, he was right to think that the sentiments behind them ran true and clear. he cared for james deeply, stopped pretending that it was some prurient love of the mind that had driven him to this, and stood and looked at himself in the mirror, forcing himself to look himself in the eye and say, out loud, i want to fuck james mcgraw. it was easier after that, and with the day that was left, he read books, made notes, and tried to ignore the heat that built under his skin with how he watched the clock, reread chapters, misspelled words. time couldn’t move fast enough, and when he slept, he awoke more eagerly watching the time than the night before.

he had gathered, since james had told him this on the night his father (may he rot) had left, that james had intended for him to wait to call on him until the evening. so it was to no small amount of surprise that he opened the door when the bell rang at noon to see a dark-eyed, hand-fluttering mcgraw at his door. he had never in his life retreated into his private rooms so fast, and when mcgraw slammed him against the closed door the second it was closed, the low nonverbal yes he gave seemed only to encourage the lieutenant as he bit thomas’s lower lip, the two of them breathing together against each other’s mouths, kissing fitting together like thomas had known they would, and a sweetness built in thomas’s chest until he could no longer abide by the ferocity of mcgraw’s kisses and, fisting a hand in his hair, he pushed him back up against the neighboring wall, his head tilted up, his eyes blazing, teeth set, mouth already kiss-dark, and thomas, one hand in james’s hair, used his weight to pin james solidly to the wall as, with fingertips, he lifted his chin more to kiss him gently.

something in james seemed to break at that, or at least buckle, as though the dam had been left in neglect for far too long. his hands went, warm, to thomas’s hip and lower back, just resting, holding onto the fabric of thomas’s coat as though he would never let go. thomas kissed james with the tenderness and feeling that had nearly blinded him in the recent past, with the kisses he would have given him in salons, in discussion. a thousand gentle things, not deviod of heat, but sharpened by their sentiment. he didn’t mention the twitch of james’s hips towards him as he learned how to kiss him how he liked, tried not to get distracted by the million kisses he felt the urge to give in exchange for the deficit they hd run. he kissed james to learn how he liked to be kissed, hesitated shy of james’s mouth to see how james would reach for him, to hear the gasp as james found himself held just short of him. thomas indulged him every time, but found ways to make james whine as they got lost in this, in this exploration of the fact that they could do this, that james could bite thomas’s mouth on impulse and then go red abruptly and laugh, that thomas could laugh through kissing him back, that james could learn thomas revelled in their closeness and pull him closer still, for him to discover there were sounds to be wrenched from thomas and dedicate himself to the study of those, to the slick press of what he could draw from thomas. and thomas felt his hips, too, twitch against james’s, but if fucking had been all they had been after it would not have been such a trial to have gotten here. the stakes had been set in pursuit of this, the ability to kiss until late in the afternoon, when both their mouths were sore and neither of them wanted to do much but shuck their outer layers of clothes and sit together, argue about nassau and stoicism and marcus aurelius and steal kisses from each other’s mouths. and thomas, finding himself surprised that his smiles were what drew disbelieving huffs and gentle open-mouthed kisses from james, that his own disbelief that james could could be, in essence, all he is were what drew james gently into his lap, james’s hands gentle at his jaw and neck as he kissed him with gentleness and tender emotion, that had thomas clutching back at james, that what had been reviled his whole life as unmanly sentiment could be what drew james in, like a moth to a flame.

they ended up sprawled, thomas on top of james, kissing well into the night, and when thomas said stay and james froze, and thomas said, call on me in three days, james bit him soundly, and said, tomorrow. i’ll call on you tomorrow. and when he dressed and patiently let thomas tie his cravat to perfection, himself in a state of disarray, and let him give him farewell kisses every backwards step to the door, it was with a joy that thomas had never seen in him before, and thomas relished, beyond reason or compare, having been the reason behind it. and because sleep had in it the promise of james in it, he slept easily, speedily, and soon.

[haikyuu-and-more-haikyuu]

May the tides forever be in your favor.

Hello, this is an AU by @basically-i-write-shit. It is about Yamaguchi and his mother moving in with Ren, that is the father of certain cat named Kuroo Tetsurō and his older brother Kuroo Eiichi. Check out his blog and his writing. It’s a great! (this fic is about a year or two into their new living arraignment) 

Ren and Tadashi have a distant relationship despite how well his new girlfriend gets along with his own, two boys. He really wants to bond with Tadashi, but doesn’t know how. this night, it’s the first time he is aloe with Tadashi.

Words: 2915

Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. This is my second language and I am still struggling to catch all the misspelling. 

He was alone.

For the first time since Aoi and Tadashi moved in, he was alone with the little boy. His partner was out of town, visiting an old aunt and wouldn't return until tomorrow afternoon. He remembered how Tadashi had begged to come with her, but couldn't. Since bringing a fourth grader to her sick, old aunt would be too much of a hassle for the old woman. It was sad. 

His own two boys were out too, Tetsurō stayed at Kenma for the night and Eiichi stayed at a group sleep over with his classmates. In hindsight, He thought it was best that his two rowdy boys were out while he was alone with Tadashi. They had a tendency to be too much for the little nine year old and Tadashi would often run to protection. And that protection was his mother's hug and a handful of kind and encouraging words.

Ren wasn’t upset with Tadashi. Not after what his girlfriend told him about how his birth father treated the little boy. Being harassed and abused by strong boys had made Tadashi wary of boys in general, especially adults and older children. Ren didn’t judge Tadashi for being drawn back when there were other males in the room.

It was understandable that it would take time for him to warm up his new family.

Now, at the dinner table, Ren could really feel the tension.

Tadashi sat quietly by the table. If Aoi was here, he would chatter happily with his mother as she asked him about his day, alternating between japanese and spanish as they talked and communicated between them. They really had a warm bond.

Tadashi was a well behaved kid, timid and shy, but polite nonetheless. He had thanked for his food when Ren had sat his bowl of shoyu ramen down and began to eat quietly.

He had yet to mutter a word to his step dad.

Ren breathed deeply, to calm himself, and briefly wondered how he got so bent over a nine year old not wanting to talk to him. This was Aoi’s only child, and if their relationship didn't develop for the better, maybe Ren and Aoi wouldn’t work out like he thought they would.

Ren cleared his throat. “So, Tadashi-kun, what did you do in school today?.” Ren started and caught Tadashi's attention. The boy looked hesitant and glanced over at the seat beside him. The seat Aoi used to sit at. “Learn anything new?”

Tadashi looked down at his plate, chopstick trembling slightly in his hand. “We learned a little about multiplication today.”

“Ah, was it hard?” Ren asked, and though he really should stop being so nervous around the boy. Dammit, he had two of his own. He could do this.

“A little.”

And that was that. That was the only conversation he managed to muster up when his new step son was alone with him. No wonder Tadashi barely spoke to him.

Ren almost slammed his head into the table. He would have, but Ren chances of Tadashi opening himself up more to him would have decreased by a ten fold.

Later, when Yamaguchi had escaped to his room, Ren sat on the couch and read the news paper. Even with Tadashi in the house, it was quiet. His boys were never this quiet. They were usually jumping on the walls, calling each other as they played on their PSP’s and such. It was constant noice from the two of them, unless they were asleep.

He made his way, quietly, up the stairs and knocked on Tadashi bedroom door and waited for a soft “Come in” before he entered.

Tadashi was lying on his stomach on the floor. Pencils and papers were scattered around him and the freckled boy seemed occupied with his drawings. Tadashi turned back to his work, albeit he looked a little more tense than he should have looked. There were a few that looked like pokemons, and yes, he remembered most of them. Both his boys had their pokemon phase when they were younger. He had endured much of Ash and his friends adventures through the years. There were some drawings of skyscrapers, that Ren suspected was because Tadashi recently had moved to Tokyo, and had seen a lot more of those big buildings.

He still remembered Tadashi astonished face as he saw a skyscraper for the first time when they went out of the suburbs and into the city.

The drawing he worked on now was clearly a stick figure of him and what he suspected was his mother. They were holding hands and had big smiles on their faces. Tadashi had drawn their freckles with three spots on each cheek for the both of them. In the background was a pale yellow house. It was their hose. Ren didn't know why he got so happy by seeing Tadashi choosing their house, instead of the apartment building he had back in Miyagi. He had also filled the paper with drawings of flowers, one that were taller than Aoi. It was clearly a work by a devoted nine year old.

“That looks nice.” Ren hummed as he crouched down to Tadashi’s level.

“Thanks, it’s for Oka-san.” Tadashi chipped soundly as he switched his blue pencil for  a green one.

Ren decided to lay beside of him, on his stomach. He watched him work for a few seconds.

“Do you make her drawings often?”

Tadashi looked at him. Big brown eyes were gazing over his hazel ones. “I always make drawings for Oka-san when she is traveling without me.” He turned quickly back to his paper. He was working on the sun in the corner. It had sunglasses. Ren felt himself smile. His boys also used to draw the sun with sunglasses, it didn't make sense, but it i was a nice touch. “It makes her happy when I draw to her.”

Ren nodded. He already knew Tadashi was an empathic child. When Eiichi had fallen ill with a light cold, Tadashi, despite being shy in front of all of them, had given the older boy one of his dangos. There were no surprise in why Tadashi choose to make a gifts for his mom when she was out of town for the night. 

“Hey, Tadashi-kun, can I draw with you?”

Tadashi looked at him. He didn't know if he was surprised or not, he had yet to learn how to read the brown eyed boy’s expressions. When Tadashi got up to give him a white piece of paper and kindly set his pencils between the two of them, Ren knew he got a ‘yes’ from the other.

Ren had never been an artist, which was the reason he also made stick figures and had the sun in the far corner. And sides, his skill couldn't even match the work of Tadashi's.

Ren made the whole family. He drew himself and Aoi holding hands and made Tetsurō, Eiichi and Tadashi hold hands. He hoped the little gesture made his step son happy.

“It that us?” Tadashi asked and glanced over to the side.

“Yes, yes it is.” Rin said, feeling his cheek getting rosy. “Do you like it?”

Tadashi smiled. “Yes, I do.” He sat up and looked over his own drawing. “Oka-san will be happy we drew for her.” He said and Ren nodded back.

They cleaned up the pencil and papers, and Rin helped Tadashi put his new drawings in a folder he had by his small desk.

“Hey, Tadashi, you like pokemon, right?”

The mention of pokemon had his full attention. He had stars in his eyes. Tadashi obviously caught himself off guard, because he quickly looked away and started playing with the hem of his shirt, ears getting pink.

“You see, Tetsu-chan and Eii-chan really likes pokemon too. We have some of the old movies, too.”

“You do?” Tadashi asked, eagerly. He let go of his shirt and Ren could feel the excitement radiating from him. He laughed fondly at the boy.

“Yes, we do.” Ren opened the door out to the halway. “If you want to, we can watch one. We can eat some snacks and sit on the couch.”

“Yes, let’s do that.” He shrieked in joy. It was the first time Ren had heard Tadashi raise his voice. Even when Tadashi was crying, he had done that so quietly. Ren was surprised when Tadashi grabbed his pants and started to tug him out of his room and into the living room.

“Say, you set the couch ready and I get the snacks. The movies are beside the dvd player. Choose the one you want to see.” Tadashi lets go of him and carried on with the important task of finding a movie while Ren made his way to the kitchen.

He first thought of making a bowl with some candy they had around, but remembered that Aoi had told him that Tadashi prefered other snacks instead of sweets.

He doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, but he does love chips, preferably made with paprika flavour.

He smiled as he fished out a bag of flavoured chips. He also took out some chocolate milk for the both of them.

Tadashi had picked out the first pokemon movie and had already seated himself on the sofa. He had pulled his blanket over him and was eagerly waiting with the remote in his hand.

He put the bowls on the table and pulled it closer to the couch so it would be easier to reach for Tadashi and sat down beside the boy. He did give them some space, no point in making Tadashi uncomfortable.

Tadashi was glued to the movie. He laughed at the funny parts and snorted at the ridiculous ones. Ren could see how he held his breath before an action scene. To be such a timid child, Tadashi was fairly expressive.

Nearing the end, Tadashi clung to his arms and presses his face into his sweater.

“I don’t like the scene when Ash turns into stone.” Tadashi says, voice wavering. He still looked at the tv screen. Ren was reminded that Aoi said something about Tadashi getting sympetich with the characters.

This was his chance. The way he handled this situation would determinate how their relationship would grow.

Ren slowly raised the hand Tadashi was clutching. The boy tensed without his safety net, but didn't look at him. Ren then slowly reached for Tadashi's shoulders and tucked him close to himself.

With Tadashi half hugged to his side, Ren felt giddy as the boy didn't try to get away from him. He blamed half of it on the pokemon movie that Tadashi was engulfed in. But he stayed and he reached again for Ren arm and his small hands clutched Ren’s sweater.

It felt kind of like when Testurō and Eiichi were here watching with him, but entirely different at the same time. Ren had been so worried about asking Aoi to move in with him and his children. He had been worried they wouldn’t like the big city and move back. Ren was sure he would travel to the worlds end for Aoi. He loved her, and getting along with her son was important for the both of them. Having Tadashi sitting by his side, made Ren sure that their relationship would work out just fine. He would die for his of children, and he would die for Tadashi.

Tadashi had a smile on his face again when Ash was saved by all the pokemons and came back into life. It was late for him, twenty minutes past his normal bed time. Aoi maybe scold him if she ever found out.

“Hey, want to watch another one?” Ren asked. Tadashi looked up at him and beamed.

45 minted after they started the second movie, Tadashi had long since dozed off against Ren’s side. The chips bowls had somehow made it into the couch and Ren was sure he needed to vacuum it in the morning. There were crumbs everywhere.

He set them aside, slowly, and tried not to jostle the nine year old too much. Slowly and carefully, he picked him up and carried him to his bedroom. He was careful when he tucked him in bed, not wanting to wake him up. When he messed up this action with his two older boys, they would always wake up and it would always time to fall back asleep.

Tadashi didn't wake, but he did roll over to hug his pillow on the side. His head wasn’t even on the pillow. Ren watched as Tadashi made some incoherent sounds in his sleep before he truly seemed to settle. This kid was truly a treat.

Ren tucked him in and went to turn off the lights, not before he pecked the boy on the head and ruffled his hair- like he did with his own two children. Tadashi would never know that he kissed him goodnight, and Ren was content with keeping this moment only to himself.

He glanced at the small boy once before he shut the door quietly.

Out in the hallway, Ren almost squealed in joy. He didn't. He didn't want to wake the sleeping boy, but he felt unbelievably happy when cleaned up after their little movie night.

The next day, Tadashi was still a little wary. Tetsurō and Eiichi had come home from their friends, and between filling in their dad on what they did on their sleepover and and bothering their shy little brother, the home was quiet.

“Tadaima.” Came the chipper voice of Aoi. Ren watched as Tadashi ran through the kitchen to get to his mother with his two elder brothers in heel.

“Okaeri.” Ren said and helped his girlfriend with the bags she carried.

“Is that gifts for us.” Tetsurō asked, and tried to peek into the bag.

“Tetsu-chan, don’t be noosy.” Ren chided them. He supposed their rowdy personality came from him, but it was still a little embarrassing. Especially since Tadashi was the opposite.

“Sorry, Otou-san, I just wanted to see my gift.” That was Eiichi and Ren reddeen with emmabressent,

“Boys, I am sorry, I don't have any gifts,” Aoi started. Tadashi was holding her hand and the five of them walked into the kitchen. “It’s just a cake and a few cookies I got from my family. I thought we could have them after dinner.”

Both boys shouted out a ‘yes’ and suddenly the bags weren't that interesting.

“Oka-san, wait here.” Tadashi started and held out his hands in a stop sign. He was oddly serious for his age. “I have something for you.”

Socked feet running was heard as Tadashi made his way towards his room. He came back moments later, carrying the two drawings they made together.

“Oka-san, I made a drawings for you.” Tadashi gave it to her, and then started tugging as his shirt as he waited for Aoi to inspect his art.

“Dashi, it is beautiful.” Aoi crouched down and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek as she nuzzled him closer. “I love, it. You even drew us in Tokyo.”

“Ren-san drew too.”

He felt startled. Aoi raised and amused eyebrow at him. Ren chuckled helplessly as he showed the drawing he made of all of them.

“Oh my, thank you.” Aoi said as she raised to her feet. She ruffled her son hair before she met his eyes. “Thank you. I love it.” She kissed him lightly on the lips before she made her way towards the fridge and hung both if her gifts up on the fridge. Oh so it was fridge worthy. What an honour.

“Yeah, me an Tadashi-kun made them together.”

Her whole face lit up. She knew he had been stressed over their relationship, especially since it seems that Tetsurō and Eiichi warmed up to her only after a few days of them living together.

“Did you guys really do that!” She smiled back at him, and Ren loved that smile of her.

Ren scratched the back of his neck and nodded. He smiled, remembering their night. “Yes, and we even watched pokemon.” He helped her pull up the items from the bag and place them where they belonged. “He even held my arm in the end when he got scared. Aoi-chan, Tadashi hugged me, willingly.”

Even Aoi looked surprised. “Wow, he really did that.”  

Ren nodded so hard he might start to feel dizzy. He beamed back at Aoi. “Yes! I had to carry him to bed after he fell asleep.”

Aoi’s shoulder seemed to relax. She had reassured him many times since they moved in that Tadashi just needed to get used to his presence and him as a person. He had never known a guy that didn't want to hurt him, except for that Tsukishima-boy Tadashi chatted on and on about. But even Aoi had been worried about Tadashi’s wariness for his step dad. She still didn't want to force anything on him, that would only make the situation worse.

“I told you he would warm up to you.” Aoi said, and they both looked up the staircase as they heard Tetsurō and Eiichi inviting themselves into Tadashi's room.

“Yeah,” Ren sighed as he heard Eiichi’s loud announcement that the three of them would play Mario Kart. Leaving no room to say no. “We are going to make this work.”

He smiled as he heard his two boisterous boys dragging his timid one to their room to play their games.

They were going to make this work.

[cchngkyuns]

Jimin Scenario: Love is Blind

«Based off this request...» 

• Type: Oneshot.

• Word counter: 3603

• Warnings: None I guess lmao

• Genre: Fluff and a dash of angst, but just a tiny bit, like the Yoongi one.

The green leaves on the trees. The flowers that bloomed gracefully every year in spring time. The colorful birds on the window at morning, the blue sky, the brown deep eyes of the one you loved the most in this world. Everything seemed like heaven. You weren’t insecure about if it was going to end soon anymore, you knew that, in his embrace, you’ll feel secure. There wasn’t anything to worry about. You moved from your natal city to Seoul a few years ago, leaving your family behind to carelessly chase your dreams the way you always wanted to. You wanted to travel, know every part of the world. You’d start in small cities, moving to big, famous ones. That was your biggest dream; seeing with your own eyes what the world had to show you. Maybe the life had to teach you a lesson. Maybe, it was a matter of time to bring the real happiness to your life. But you can’t lie to anyone. When it happened, when they gave you the news, you broke down. All your dreams falling apart in front of you, you couldn’t see it, but you could feel it. You could even hear how every piece of your heart fell to your feet.

“I’m sorry…” He whispered. “I’m sorry, I just don’t think I can do this.” But what am I going to do without you? How am I going to handle this?

And suddendly, you stopped hearing his voice. He didn’t cause the accident, you knew it, but you thought he was devoted to you. And now, he was gone, forever. He left you like this. Hurt, alone, and blind.

What would you do now? Alone in a city you barely know…

Please…

 Today, it was a new and wonderful day. The sun was rising, you could feel the heat in your skin, and you knew it was time to get up as soon as you feel it. 

The sheets on your bed were messily accomodated, since you and your guide dog moved a lot throughout the night. You couldn’t really help it, but it was one of the hardest things to do when you lived all by your own. This morning, like every other, was a hardworking one. Tiring, but worth it. You made breakfast for yourself; after three and a half years of slowly and painful process of going blind, you were practically a master on cooking and –most of the time- not ruining it completely. You pressed your fingers through every object in the table, carefully trying not to break anything again. You sat down and ate your delicious –maybe because you made it yourself- breakfast while your dog, Maya, ate her food loudly. She was, probably, the only real friend you had. It wasn’t like it bothered you, because you were a genuine person and you knew it. Your feelings were genuine and honest, but you just didn’t socialize that much. With time, you realized that the people who approached you were interested in harming you, believing that you were as stupid as blind you were; but that wasn’t the case. You couldn’t see at all, that was true, but you could feel things people couldn’t. You payed attention to how people broke their voices when they were lying, to recognize their true intentions by hearing and feeling the awkward atmosphere they caused. It was a matter of time to find out people’s dark intentions. You knew not everyone were like this, but you know for sure that you weren’t interested in being friends with anyone until you felt comfortable with someone, until “the one” arrived to your life, giving you a feeling of well being, open his or her heart to you. You’d wait, you were sure. But until this day, you still were waiting.

The sounds of the early morning were amazing. The fresh air, even though it wasn’t as fresh as your natal city, hit you gently in the face and made you feel alive. You could easily trust Maya, so you just walked through the city until you arrived to your art college. Since you where disabled and Maya was trained, the directives were completely fine in letting her in into the classroom. You didn’t care about other people’s glances, this was your second year of college. The first year, thinking about people’s judgemental stares chased you even in your sleep, but now, you didn’t care at all; you had all you needed to survive without problem, a guide dog, a house, enough money to eat and buy what you needed. What else did you need? Nothing.

That day you let Maya guide you to the right seat. She always did, it was difficult at first, but you could handle it. If you had any trouble, the teacher or someone could easily help you, it wasn’t a big deal. The class started normally; you were interested in the “drawing” part of the art subject itself, but you didn’t want to skip any class, so you just sat there waiting for the history class to end, taking out a voice recorder and typing in braille, just like you learned a few months ago. It was just like any other day, nothing new.

You knew you weren’t alone in the classroom, but you didn’t feel any stares right into your neck or your sides like you sometimes do, until that very moment. Suddendly, when you noticed you couldn’t concentrate on writing properly, realization hits you. Someone was staring, someone was looking at you right into your soul, but you didn’t feel a dark aura. Maybe it was someone with the purest intentions, just curious about you, or maybe about your dog, or maybe about your disability. You thought it was cute and just smiled to yourself.

The two following classes were over in a matter of time. Writing took time and concentration, so more than 3 hours weren’t that hard to take. Anyway, you’d be lying to yourself if you say that you could concentrate perfectly like every day. You were used to it, but when it happened, it wasn’t the most comfortable feeling. Feeling that someone was staring right into your eyes didn’t help in concentrating, so you knew you had a few typos or misspellings, but you had your voice recorder so you sighed in relief. You stood up and pat Maya in the head like you always do to tell her that it was time to get up from the floor, to help you get into the dining hall or whatever, because concentration and writing took all of your energy and you wanted at least a snack. As soon as you stood up, you felt that stare right into you again. You were sure that someone was about to talk to you, so you were kinda eager about it; walking slowly so “that” person had the chance to approach you. And you were right, he did. You felt Maya suddendly stopping, making you almost tripping when someone grabbed you by your shoulders. You gasped in surprise, laughing cockily afterwards and thanking the stranger who just saved you from an embarassing trip. — I’m sorry, the door was closed, that’s why your dog stopped so suddendly. — the masculine but gentle voice said, making you feel dumb. Of course it was closed, it always was, and Maya always stopped suddendly, but you just forgot because you were distracted. — Oh, I see. I’m sorry, I guess I was distracted, the door’s always closed. — Really? And why do they close the door? Don’t they have you in consideration?

You laughed at the kind words. He was kind of right, but it wasn’t like it bothered you since you never, in an entire year, complained about it, and maybe it was for the sake of students that they kept the door closed, since the noise out there was horribly loud. — It’s okay, I’m used to it. They always do, I guess it’s because they forget. Don’t make it a big deal. — You said, trying to sound convincing and “strong” to yourself and to the guy that was right in front of you. He laughed shyly. — I’m Jimin by the way. Park, Park Jimin. Jimin. Such a cute name, it definitely fit his voice and you were sure that it was the same with his appearance, even though you didn’t care that much since you couldn’t see. — Well, nice to meet you Jimin. — you said formally. — I’m Y/F/N.

That day at home was surprisingly easy to handle. You didn’t have to work hard, you were completely lost in your own thoughts. 

You gave Maya her food and had a relaxing shower, just like any other day. You spent a lot of more time since you were recapitulating everything that happened today, and why it made that day way more special than the rest. Today, for the first day in 3 and a half years, you had lunch with someone else. He offered to sit with you, maybe because he just greeted you and he felt bad when he saw you eating alone, maybe he thought you were the generic lonely girl in a lonely world. You weren’t, you had Maya and your thoughts of course, but you didn’t reject him since he seemed a good person and you didn’t feel any bad aura like you usually do as soon as you meet someone. It happened, though, that you had the exactly same feeling towards someone and then, you ended up noticing weeks later. But at that time, he seemed completely just like a gentleman, so he offered you to sit with him and three more friends of his; this wasn’t uncomfortable for you, since they were talking with each other, and Jimin was talking with you. He didn’t say much though, just asked about you and if you were near the college, basic things like that. He had told you that he just moved from his old college to this one, because he used to live in Busan but moved with his friends to Seoul to go after his dreams. It reminded you of your old self and it gave you a nostalgic feeling that fulfilled your soul for the rest of the morning.

 When the next day arrived, you were as ready as you could to begin the day as happy as it was allowed. You sleept very deeply, you didn’t have any nightmares and Maya didn’t lick your face with her tongue full of dog food. Your day was going great so far. You stepped in the first hour class, sitting in your designated seat as always. You were more alert this time; you weren’t going to fall miserably like yesterday. Suddendly, a soft voice broke your concentration. —Good morning. Did you sleep well? You smiled without turning to him. You couldn’t see, but you wanted to be polite and stare to his side, just to have some manners. So when you smiled, it was unexpected. You didn’t expect him to see it, but you knew he did. You could almost feel him smiling back, and you didn’t complain. — Yes, I’ve slept perfectly. Have you eaten? You heart this time, that he was giving you a wide smile. You felt it in the atmosphere, it was a comfortable company. If feel different, for the first time in years, you allowed someone to talk to you openly without doubting.

Days passed by faster than you thought. Every single day you thought about him, about your frienship, about his smile and anything else. There was a coffee shop next to the college, and both Jimin and you assisted there pretty often to help each other study. You could feel that he was amazed by how you managed to study and explain things so smoothly, and you didn’t need functional eyes to make it work. 

It has been already a month. Ever since both of you only meet in college and when you had an important exam, but things escalated pretty quickly for your taste. It was only a month and it was the first time that he was in your house, hanging out with you, and you didn’t stop him from visiting you. It was a pretty comfortable visit. Both of you shared laughs, stories, common thoughts, everything you could think of. Sooner or later, curiosity hit Jimin. You saw it coming, but you didn’t expect your words to get into his heart. When you told him about the accident, about your ex, about how he left you all alone and you had to manage to survive and get through everything all by yourself, you could feel his sadness. You didn’t see, but you felt it. Now, more than never, you wanted to see him, to be able to look into his eyes. You knew that the surgery was possible. You knew that the possibility existed, but you were just too afraid. Either you’ll recover your vision or you’ll get blind forever, without the chance of getting your corneas back again. It was a very high chance of loosing it forever, so you wanted to remain with a little bit of hope; but when you slowly started falling for Jimin, you questioned yourself.

Jimin was everything you wanted, you understood after exactly 4 months of being close friends. You never felt that he was a bad person nor he had bad intentions with you, he didn’t want to harm you, he just wanted to make you happy, that what he had told you days ago. You sat on your bed, all your insecurities slaming your face into reality without anticipation. Once again, for the third time in 1 hour, all of your words came into your mind. The words that made Jimin get out of your life. “I don’t know if we should make this.” “Maybe you should find someone better” “I’m not good enough for you” Jimin fought against all of these words, because it was a matter of insecurity. You were secure of yourself before you met him. You were sure that what hurt his heart the most was: “I don’t know your intentions just yet” Yes, you said it. Something that, even though you knew it wasn’t true, wandered on your mind day and night. But what could you do? You were deeply in love with him, you knew Jimin wasn’t your ex boyfriend who left you in the dark, but even knowing that you were scared. Scared that when Jimin found out that there’s a chance you won’t be able to see again, he’ll run away from you. Scared that he’ll change his intentions when your feelings have no turning back. You didn’t know if it was a good idea, you missed him, but it was for the best. Jimin would be sad a few weeks and then find another friend who he’ll fall in love with. You felt good about yourself, but not good enough to be with someone like him, you knew that.

Before you fell asleep, when you were in the verge of the world of dreams and reality, you heard the unmistakable sound of the door knocking. Maya, as always, came to your room and licked the soul out of you, grabbing your hand with her teeth. You surely didn’t expect him to be there. Jimin himself, right in front of you. You knew how he smelled, and you knew how the atmosphere felt when he was near you. “Can I come in?” he asked. You were in shock, you certainly didn’t expect him to be there right now with you, but you didn’t hesitate. You moved from the way and let him in, closing the door, walking carefully into the couch with Jimin’s help. “I’m sory to bother you…” his soft voice said, you felt the warmth of his voice in your heart. “I actually didn’t expect you to be here.” Jimin stood silent for a bit, you thought you made it more uncomfortable, but he got close to you, you felt his presence right in front of you, you thought that maybe he was on his knees and in the floor, and when he took your hands you confirmed your hypothesis. “I just can’t let you go like that. I know about your insecurities. I know that you have been hurt, but I’m not that kind of man” You didn’t know what to say, your heart beating faster and faster. You just wanted to pull him into a kiss and erase everything you’ve said, but your insecurities were still there. “I’m insecure about myself too, you know that.” You remembered when he let you touch his face after he talked about his insecurities. You knew he was attractive because you could feel it, but you certainly didn’t care much about looks, even when you could see, you never did. “I just want you to give me an opportunity. If you feel like I’m failing you… I’ll disappear. But I won’t leave you alone now. Not like this.” You felt tears rising from your chest, even if that wasn’t the place they came from, you felt your heart clenching and the tears starting to gently stroke your cheeks. “Jimin, you know that if I get the surgery there’s a high chance that I turn blind forever?” He instantly answered, “I know. I knew, I did researchs when you seemed so enthusiastic about it, I knew since I started falling for you. Please, Y/N, we can make this work.” You broke down into tears, his words hit you like concrete but he was right. You were pushed into the edge by your insecurities, but if Jimin wasn’t so sure about his feelings, then this might have never happened and you might have lost a chance to be with someone with genuine feelings. He sat right next to you and he hold you close. You knew he would never let you go. Not now, not like this, and judging by his words, never. “Maybe we can give this a try…” He stroked your hair. “But if you fail, Park, I’ll kick your ass.” He laughed as cute as ever, but you were sure he wouldn’t. 

“—Miss Y/L/N, I’ll remove the bandages now, okay?”

Jimin felt the heat on his body rising, he knew you love him, he was sure about that, but he wasn’t sure about himself. Maybe you didn’t like the way he was, his looks, his smile, everything. You’ve been dating for months when you received the call from the hospital you were waiting for, in the waiting list. You’ve been waiting for that call forever and when you received it, you bursted into tears. “There’s a chance that is doesn’t work” the doctor said. “but it’s not as high as we thought. If everything goes alright, and it certainly will, you’ll have your vision back.” Your vision was blurry, all you could see was blurry colors from the hospital room but it was a matter of time that you started recognizing everything. It would slowly come into place, but they had to left you alone for a few hours, so they let Jimin in, and you turned to look at him. Then you saw it and your heart was beating fast, the smile on your face as wide as ever. You knew Jimin was nervous, you had your vision back but you could still feel it. “Jagi…” You didn’t see him clearly just yet. “I still can’t see you, but I can recognize you’re taller than me.” You said, your eyes widening and getting smaller to try and focus your blurry vision, making Jimin laugh nervously. He held your hand lovingly, stroking your face. He sat there next to you, you told him about how the surgery felt, the experience, that you were nervous, afraid and curious at the same time about everything. You didn’t even know how your dog looked like. Slowly, hours passed by and your vision started to focus. When it fully did, you didn’t want Jimin to know just yet, but you stared at him stunned. In fact, he was the stunning one. He was gorgeus. He tould you about how he looked like, and you touched his face, but you never imagined that his skin looked as soft as it feelt like. His eyes, dark and deep. His blonde hair separated in the middle and his smile... It was just too much handsomeness to handle at once. You just stared at him, into your eyes, and you stopped trying to focus and your eyes came into their normal size. “Jagi! Are you listening? Are you in planet earth?” Jimin was telling you something important, but you didn’t listen to him. You were focused on his smile, on the way his mouth moved along with his words. “Ah, sorry Chim, you are so handsome I can’t handle it.” Jimin stared at you with wide eyes, covering his face. “Ah, why didn’t you tell me that you could see…” “Because it just happened, like, 10 seconds ago!” You weren’t plugged into anything anymore, but you knew that if you got up you’d probably fall, so you just cupped Jimin’s cheeks and kissed him lovingly, just like the way he first did when you told him not to fail you. He pulled into his embrace, and he would never let you go. He let go all of his insecurities, now knowing that you loved him by the way he was, and you knowing that he felt the same.

[ciathyzareposts]

Missed Classic: Moonmist – Getting a Clue (Won! Once!)

Written by Joe Pranevich

Welcome back to Moonmist, the Nancy Drew mystery with a bit less Nancy Drew and a bit more Clue. The more I think about it, the more likely it seems that Galley and Lawrence were inspired by the 1985 film starring Tim Curry and based on the board game. (Our international readers may know both by their foreign titles, Cluedo.) Both the game and the film relish in mystery tropes including the all-important “dinner scene”, but the genius of the Clue film comes in its multiple endings. When you went to the theater, you were randomly selected to get one of several possible endings with different murderers and motives. The whole film had to be set up to support the multiple endings and, for my money, it is one of the great comedic twists in film. Moonmist’s multiple endings, plucked from a seemingly-random question of color at the beginning of the game, might not really be based on Clue but I cannot help but think there is a connection. Later releases of Clue included all of the endings, one after the other, at the conclusion of the film. We will return to Moonmist after we beat it once to see how the other threads play out.

We left off last week just after the critical dinner scene. The pre-recorded voice of the late Lord Lionel Tresyllian invited the assembled guests to participate in a scavenger hunt for a missing piece of his fortune. Lord Jack, Lionel’s nephew and the new owner of the castle, is a prime suspect in his uncle’s death due to his inheriting the estate. His ex-girlfriend, Deirdre, also recently died in mysterious circumstances. (She fell down a well!) Meanwhile, our friend Tamara believes that someone is trying to kill her and the mysterious “White Lady” ghost has resumed haunting the halls. How are all of these details connected? We just have to solve the mystery to find out.

Wilton Castle in Cornwall might be built in the same style. Notice the circular tower region separated from a more “modern” manor house. 

All In The Brochure

Now that dinner is over, I need a strategy. My initial plan is to run down the two leads that I have so far and then join the family’s scavenger hunt. At some point, I will need to break to explore the castle and grounds to build a map. Although a fine map came with the game, it does not include the whole castle and certainly does not document all the nooks and crannies that we may need to explore to solve this mystery.

The first clue to follow up on is the maid’s note. Last week, we intercepted a note from the butler to Lord Jack that stated not only that the servants were preparing to leave for the night, but that one of the maids had decided to quit. She left a resignation letter on the desk in the sitting room. As all of the guests were ushered into that room as soon as the meal was over, so it’s easy to look! Before I get there, I commented on one aspect of this game already but it bears repeating: even though I know there is a desk in the sitting room, we cannot “see” it. All we get for the room description is this:

> look It looks even lovelier than it sounds in the brochure.

This is perhaps explicable because they were trying to cut down on the amount of text in the game, but no other Infocom work to this point required such extremes to depict a fully fleshed-out world. This is the description in the brochure:

From that, we can learn that there is a desk, window seat, and many other objections in the room that merit our investigation. I find flipping between the game and the manual (even in PDF form) to be annoying but at least the game only does this for a half-dozen rooms in the brochure.

Enough about that, let’s read the note:

Today, while cleaning the room of a certain person who shall remain nameless, I was SHOCKED to discover SUMMING DREADFUL! I hope I knows me place, Your Lordship, but I was brought up to be a PERFECTLY RESPECTABLE young woman, and I cannot go on working under the same roof where such WICKEDNESS takes place. I am not the type of girl given to idle gossip, so I will only say this. Maybe there is more reason than ANYONE SUSPECKS why that so-called ghost prowls about the castle at night, if you know what I mean. I am not the type who peeks through keyholes, either, but maybe it is high time someone did!

I dislike the fake “accent” writing and misspellings. If she had been an American servant, I would fear that Lawrence and Galley were channeling some vaguely racist southern slang, but as it stands it just reads as off to me. This may be a great approximation of a working class Cornwall accent! Unfortunately, the note doesn’t tell us much.That she saw something while peeking through a keyhole suggests something illicit, perhaps an affair by Lord Jack himself, but I hesitate to connect that to the ghost. This clue may make more sense later and I was planning to ransack all of the bedrooms anyway.

Another game with gratuitous nudity.

Garden of Eden

After reading the note, I explore the rest of the sitting room. I barely get farther than noticing that music from A Prairie Home Companion (already twelve years old when this game came out!) is on the piano before Jack gets up and leaves the room. I quickly abandon my plan and follow him through the castle to see where he is heading. He leaves the sitting room and heads west to the old “tower” part of the castle before ascending the stairs beyond the limits of our tourist brochure. I discover him searching in a disused chapel next to a stained glass window depicting the Garden of Eden. Vivien’s clue from last week read:

Forbidden fruit tempted the very first lass, ‘Twas once in a garden, but now in a glass.

It looks like we are in the right place! Since the brochure didn’t mention the chapel, I doubt I would have found this location quickly. All the more reason why I need to map! I search the window and discover a note taped to the apple. Jack catches me taking it but seems strangely happy about it. It’s not like his family fortune is on the line, right? Or does he get to keep the treasure if I find it?

> examine window Stuck on the apple of the stained-glass window is a third clue. “How nice! You found a third clue!” says Lord Jack.

This is another moment where the prose feels “off”. At the very least, there is too much “the” in there, but even so the text in this game feels more stilted than in some of Infocom’s previous works. It says:

Despite its appearance, the fruit was quite sour. One bite of the apple drove Eve from her bower.

I do not know what to make of it. “Bower” seems to be the key word, but where did Eve go when leaving the Garden of Eden? There’s not an easy answer to that question, but I may work it out as I explore more of the castle. (As a guy that spent years blogging about bible stories, I can tell you that the answer is complicated as pre-flood geography is implied to be different and subject to debate. Mormons believe that the Garden of Eden was in modern day Missouri.)

I follow up on the butler’s clue next. He told me that he had seen the White Lady searching for something on the floor in the drawing room. She ran off when he saw her, but he could not work out where she went as the doors were still locked. I bee-line for the sitting room next– it is in the eastern end of the new section of the castle, according to the brochure– and search for myself. I discover a small red jewel in the carpeting! The jewel is otherwise unremarkable, but it may help me discover the ghost’s identity.

Yes, the game came with a map, but…

Mapping, Mapping, Mapping Since I have no more clues and every other guest is vigorously lounging in the drawing room, my next step is to map out the castle. I would not have known about the chapel if Lord Jack had not led me there; I expect there are many more such surprises. To get ahead of myself, the process of mapping the castle will take hours of both real and in-game time. By my count, the castle consists of 56 locations and a web of secret passages. My plan is to map out everything I can, notate anything interesting, and come back to key locations after I am done.

The castle can be broadly divided into three areas:

The “main” tourist part as well as the bedrooms and private living spaces for the family. Those are anchored off of an “Old Great Hall” in the west that rises like a tower, and a “New Great Hall” in the east with more modern construction.

The servants’ spaces in the kitchen and basement. This area can be accessed through a hidden stairwell in the dining room (leading down to the kitchen) as well as a pair of stairs at the base of the old tower.

Secret passages! There are a lot of secret passages in the game; nearly every location can be entered or spied upon by one of these hidden hallways.

Starting at the ground floor, I have already explored the dining and sitting rooms. I head outside and am relieved that the hedge “maze” is not an adventure game-style maze and just a quick jaunt to a fountain in the center. I discover my first interesting thing in the foyer: a strange cane in the umbrella stand. It barely looks like a cane at all, more like a club with faceted bumps all over it. A closer examination reveals that it has been recently painted. I hold onto it as it may be a clue.

Above the New Great Hall is a block of bedrooms, including my own. Does it seem odd that everyone has their own room, even those that presumably live just down the street? I suppose they planned to party all night long and staying in the castle was just more convenient for all involved. I search the rooms and find nothing incredibly suspicious although (lucky me!), only my room has an attached bathroom.

Jack and Tamara’s (separate) bedrooms are located on the western side of the castle, in the tower. Lord Jack has a nice telescope in his room which I try to use, but doing so opens up a secret passage. Unfortunately, the interior was dark and I’ll need to return to explore once I find a light source. Jack also chooses now as the right time to go to bed and he catches me snooping around in his room. He’s not happy, but neither is the game. I try to leave, but he blocks my exit:

> enter secret passage Lord Jack blocks your exit! [ Foo!! This is a bug!! ]

This freaks me out and I restore my game to an earlier point. The last thing I want is to trigger a bug and end up in a walking dead situation. I cannot recall any other Infocom game that had a bug message like this. Am I just unlucky or is this game not as well-tested as other Infocom products?

Other than the secret passage, I find nothing of note in Jack’s room. There is an inkwell that we can grab in his office.

King Dingane ka Senzangakhona Zulu, also known as King Dingaan

Zulu Research The final room on that floor of the tower is the library where Tamara does her research into Lord Lionel’s expeditions. There are comfy chairs and plenty of books all around. Someone kindly left one of Lord Lionel’s journals open on a table and I read it to discover the nature of one of his treasures from Africa: a war club that once belonged to Zulu “King Dingaan”. It’s diamond-studded and must have been smuggled out of Africa under dubious circumstances. I’m sure we’re supposed to think of Lord Lionel as a rugged adventurer in the mold of Indiana Jones (whose first movie came out only two years before this), but now I just think of evil colonialists who robbed Africa of her heritage. He didn’t even donate it to a museum, he just added it to his private collection!

It doesn’t take me more than a moment to realize that the “odd cane” that I picked up by the door is a repainted war club. I scratch away some of the paint to confirm. I found the treasure by accident!

Let’s pause for a bit of a history lesson. Dingaan was a real king of the Zulu, ruling from 1828 until 1840. He overthrew his brother, the much more well-known King Shaka. I don’t know enough about Zulu history to put that into context. Zulu warriors fought with several weapons, one of which was a mace-like war club called an iwisa. It appears that our club is likely intended to be a ceremonial version of that. The right-hand picture above shows one, but here is a better view:

Yes, I can see how that could be mistaken for a cane.

Good on Infocom for doing a bit of research here, but shame that there was not more commentary on the inherent evil of stealing artifacts like these and hiding them away in manor houses where no one will ever find them. Even by the 1980s, I thought those sorts of practices were frowned upon. I’m not done because the game tells me that I still need to “collect evidence and identify the ghost.” To do that, I resume exploring.

The third floor of the tower contains the chapel plus a game room and lumber room, both of which appear to be primarily used for storing junk. There’s a giant stuffed rhino in the game room, for instance, and a birdcage and treasure chest in the lumber room. (“Lumber room” appears to be a British term for storage room, so it is unsurprising to find junk in there.) The treasure chest isn’t interesting because it contains a treasure but rather because there is a small opening under the chest that looks down into Tamara’s bedroom. Is Lord Jack spying on her? Alternatively, maybe the peephole was built hundreds of years ago and he doesn’t even know it is there. At the top of the tower is the fighting deck. There’s a bell up there that you can ring; we are told it can be heard throughout the whole castle.

An example of a servants’ staircase in an old British house. Not very posh.

Dungeon Crawling

That is it for the public parts of the castle. I head back downstairs and duck into the servants’ area through the “backstairs” tucked away behind the dining room. Not surprisingly, this is a real thing: it was not uncommon to have separate entrances and hallways for the help such that they would not need to interact with the gentry more than necessary. Just beneath the dining room is the kitchen and an old-timey brass lantern. I grab it immediately. I don’t know how many adventure games I’ve played through by now, but a brass lantern is always comforting.

The game does not let us explore the servants’ quarters, but we can proceed west into the basement and wine cellar. There, we grab a bottle of wine and look over Lord Lionel’s stored adventuring gear, but I find nothing of interest. The well that Deidre fell into is also in the basement, I do not find any clues there to her fate and the well itself is too dark even with the lantern.

Further west is the castle’s disused dungeon, although an iron maiden is just calling out to be used on someone. A “priest hole” leads out of the castle and onto a cliff path behind it, offering a means of escape for someone that didn’t want to use either of the castle’s front doors, but it’s too dark even with my lantern to explore it. From my understanding of priest holes, I believed they were hiding places for clergy of whatever faith was being persecuted at the time; this seems more like a secret exit. If we climb (warily) into the iron maiden, a hidden mechanism is triggered and we are taken down in an elevator to a secret tomb. I was ready to be amazed by the treasure or whatever it is that we would find there, but it’s nothing more than an empty coffin. Very disappointing!

An illustration of a priest hole.

It’s A Secret to Everybody

With my lantern in hand, I return to Lord Jack’s room and enter the castle’s warren of secret passages. I’d love to tell you that they were interesting, but I’m only willing to go as far as “annoying to map”. In the western side of the castle, the passages wind up and down stairs between levels and it’s easy to lose track of what floor you are on. In contrast, the eastern side of the castle is neatly organized with a tidy loop of passages hidden in the outer walls. I clearly did a poor job of pushing and pulling objects in every room that I went to because it turns out that nearly every room in the castle is connected to a secret passage somehow. No bedroom is safe from an intruder that knows the system, nor is the library, drawing room, or anywhere else. Peepholes let you spy on the Great Hall. Someone went to a lot of trouble for this.

The one exciting thing I thought I found wasn’t exciting at all. At one point in one of the passages, you find a door that is high above you which calls out to be explored. Elsewhere in the warren, you have to ascend and descend using a ladder, but it’s not mobile and cannot be used to access the elevated door. I thought for sure that it would be a hidden room that could only be accessed by solving a puzzle, but the reality was more boring than that. In the sitting room, there is a secret entrance that requires you to sit on a window seat and manipulate one of the nearly wyvern statues. This is a one-way drop into the passage below. Instead of being a clever puzzle to find a mystery room in the castle, it is nothing.

At one point, I stumbled on the White Lady in one of the passages! She runs away quickly and cannot be followed like the other residents. I neglected to make a note of when and where so I could not find her again right away. That was a mistake, but not a huge one.

My completed map of the game.

Solving Puzzles

I mapped the whole castle and found no more clues, so it’s time to take stock of what we know and what we do not know:

The three clues appear to lead us to the discovery of the war club, but I have not worked out the third clue and at this point it probably doesn’t matter. The first clue, the King of Spades with a sceptre, is obvious in retrospect as a way to suggest the war club as the prize.

There are plenty of suspicious things around the castle that seem like they should be used for something, but aren’t. There is a suit of armor in the great hall, a mounted rhinoceros in the game room, the well, and the secret passage out of the castle, not to mention the secret crypt and empty coffin. These might be for some of the alternate solutions, but right now they are just distractions.

I have not discovered the scandal that caused the maid to resign her position.

Why is there a peephole into Tamara’s room? I try watching Tamara through it and she’s either not there, getting ready for bed, or sleeping. I found nothing suspicious beyond that I was watching my friend sleep.

While we know the White Lady uses the secret passages, and can surmise that she uses the priest hole to enter and exit the castle, we don’t know who she is or what she is up to.

As I write this, it’s after 6 AM in game time and everyone in the castle has long since been asleep. Just for giggles, I wait a bit. The police arrive at 7 AM and take over the investigation, but I’m not even clear what crime they are investigating. Was there a murder or something overnight that I missed? As far as I saw, everyone was sleeping peacefully.

I start over and quickly retrace my steps for the clues, the war club, and the red jewel in the carpet. This time, I use the objects to interrogate Jack. When I show him the club, he announces that it’s the end of his search and then just walks away. I just saved the family’s financial fortunes and that is all the thanks that I get?

“That must be the hidden treasure! Then that’s the end of my searching.” “That’s super!” adds Lord Jack. “We can’t thank you enough.”

Did I mention that the dialog in this game feels stilted and repetitive? Jack’s response to the red jewel is more telling:

> show jewel to jack He flinches a little before answering. He looks at it with interest. But he says he can’t identify it.

Lord Jack clearly recognizes the jewel but doesn’t want to admit it. I race back upstairs and search his bedroom once again. This time, I discover one of Deirdre’s necklaces in a “tallboy” that I missed before (possibly because I did not realize that a “tallboy” is a British word for a type of dresser). I compare the stone to the necklace and it is a perfect match! But why did the ghost have the stone and how did she lose it?

I interview the remainder of the guests to look for reactions, but none of them respond in an interesting way and many of the answers are repeated across guests. It another way that the game feels cheap and incomplete; a far cry from the tailored responses in a game like Deadline. The last guest I have to interview is the White Lady herself so I sit in one of the secret passages and just wait until she comes by. Shortly after midnight, I am rewarded with a ghost sighting. When I show her the necklace I filched from Lord Jack’s bedroom, I get a very helpful response:

> show necklace to ghost She says, “Please don’t speak, just listen! I’m really Deirdre, and I’m alive. Jack tried to murder me, and I think he murdered Lionel! He pushed me down the well, but an underground stream carried me swiftly to the sea, where I was rescued by a yacht. I have come back to Tresyllian Castle in disguise — both to frighten him and to find some proof of Lionel’s murder. And to incriminate Lord Jack for my own ‘murder’ by planting the tiny red jewel from my necklace in the clothes he wore that night — but then I lost it in the drawing room.” She goes on, “But now that you’re on the case, I can leave the country with the yacht captain. Find proof of Lionel’s murder, and we can both rest easily!” She races off towards the priest hole.

(Congratulations, Ms. Doe, you’ve identified the ghost!)

Wow. I have so many thoughts. Why does she want the world to think she is dead? This isn’t the 1700s, you cannot just fake your death and live an otherwise normal life. She has bank cards and passports and so many other things to deal with. Even if she wanted to leave Jack, I cannot imagine that plan working. Since she also survived attempted murder, I think she would want to take that to the authorities instead of dressing up as a ghost. Speaking of which, where does she live? How is she buying the white makeup? How does any of that make sense? She is not Tamara’s attacker and we do not have anyone with a motive for that.

I wake up Tamara to tell her about the ghost, but that is useless. She complains that she is too sleepy to talk and goes right back to bed. The same thing happens when I wake up any of the other guests. I know that Jack did it; how do I solve the murder?

The ghost was Deirdre the whole time!

Taking a Hint

At this point, I am stumped. I have no idea how to prove that Jack killed Deirdre and no idea who wants to kill Tamara. After some further exploring, I took a hint: I needed to take the maid’s note a lot more literally. I was supposed to be looking through all of the bedroom keyholes, not just searching the bedrooms. If I would have done that, I would have discovered that there were wires in the keyhole to Lord Jack’s room. The wires lead to a microphone and hidden tape recorder, evidently set up by Lionel before his death. I believe the implication is that it started recording whenever someone opened his door, but I’m not sure exactly.

I play what is on the tape:

> play recorder First, you hear Lionel: “This secret tape recorder should capture any sound in the master bedroom when I run it. Testing,… testing,…” Then you hear Lionel tell Deirdre that he suspects Jack of coveting the inheritance and wanting to kill him. After a pause, Jack tells Lionel, with a cold-blooded chuckle, that his time has come. Then Lionel’s voice is urgent and muffled, as if he’s being smothered! He calls out, “Jack! Stop!” and then… silence. (Congratulations, Ms. Doe! You found evidence of the crime!)

Jack killed both Deirdre and Lionel! That doesn’t seem surprising, but wasn’t Lionel dying of a rare jungle disease anyway? Or was that a ruse? I’m also not sure how this maps to the maid’s note. If she found the tape recorder proving that Jack killed Lionel, she would not have explained what she found in a note to the killer. I just cannot map her screed about “wickedness” to what we actually found in the keyhole.

The clue says that I need to wake Jack up and accuse him of the crime– as opposed to, for example, calling the local police. His bedroom door is locked and I have to pick my way there through the secret passages. As soon as I wake and accuse him, Jack attacks me but I am rescued by the butler Bolitho who appears suddenly. He didn’t leave after all! Maybe he even knew that Jack was the killer the whole time? The game is over and we are given the official summary:

Lord Jack murdered Lionel to inherit the title and castle. Deirdre was blackmailing Lord Jack to marry her, because she knew he was plotting to kill Lionel. So Jack tried to do away with her, too, by dumping her down the well. But Jack was wrong in thinking he killed Deirdre. She survived and came back to the castle at night — to play on Tamara’s nerves, since her arrival seems to be part of Jack’s plot; to hunt for proof that Jack murdered Lionel; and to try to frame him for her own “murder” by planting the tiny red jewel in his trouser cuff, until she lost it in the drawing room.

I am happy that I won, but it feels unsatisfying. It turns out that Deirdre was the one scaring Tamara after all, but is leaving a poisonous snake in a desk really “playing on nerves”? And where did she get the snake? The realization that Deirdre was blackmailing Jack makes sense as a motive, but if she wanted to be rich she shouldn’t be running off with the guy on the yacht. And finally, instead of going to the police with evidence she is alive, she wants to “get even” by planting evidence on Jack and hoping that someone sees it and puts it all together? Nope. I don’t buy it.

With one case down, we have three more variants to go. Will they be any better than this? My guess is that they will go a lot faster since I already have the castle mapped, but it may be more difficult than I expect to shift to a different mystery with the same players and setting; I could miss a clue because I do not think to search something again.

Time played: 4 hr 40 min Total Time: 5 hr 25 min

As you are aware, Covid-19 has taken a toll on the lives and schedules of our regular reviewers. It is my sincerest hope that we will be able to return to a more normal posting pattern soon, however even my schedule is still more than a bit crazy and I may not be able to consistently write one post per week yet.

In the previous entry, I asked whether our readers would like me to continue to the next Infocom game (1987’s Hollywood Hijinx) or move immediately into Space Quest V, even with the understanding that there could be post delays. Thus far, we have two votes for me to play the Infocom game next. Please let me know what you think in the comments below.

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/missed-classic-moonmist-getting-a-clue-won-once/

[readbookywooks]

The Hungarian Horntail

The prospect of talking face-to-face with Sirius was all that sustained Harry over the next fortnight, the only bright spot on a horizon that had never looked darker. The shock of finding himself school champion had worn off slightly now, and the fear of what was facing him had started to sink in. The first task was drawing steadily nearer; he felt as though it were crouching ahead of him hike some horrific monster, barring his path. He had never suffered nerves like these; they were way beyond anything he had experienced before a Quidditch match, not even his last one against Slytherin, which had decided who would win the Quidditch Cup. Harry was finding it hard to think about the future at all; he felt as though his whole life had been heading up to, and would finish with, the first task.... Admittedly, he didn't see how Sirius was going to make him feel any better about having to perform an unknown piece of difficult and dangerous magic in front of hundreds of people, but the mere sight of a friendly face would be something at the moment. Harry wrote back to Sirius saying that he would be beside the common room fire at the time Sirius had suggested; and he and Hermione spent a long time going over plans for forcing any stragglers out of the common room on the night in question. If the worst came to the worst, they were going to drop a bag of Dungbombs, but they hoped they wouldn't have to resort to that - Filch would skin them alive. In the meantime, life became even worse for Harry within the confines of the castle, for Rita Skeeter had published her piece about the Triwizard Tournament, and it had turned out to be not so much a report on the tournament as a highly colored life story of Harry. Much of the front page had been given over to a picture of Harry; the article (continuing on pages two, six, and seven) had been all about Harry, the names of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions (misspelled) had been squashed into the last line of the article, and Cedric hadn't been mentioned at all. The article had appeared ten days ago, and Harry still got a sick, burning feeling of shame in his stomach every time he thought about it. Rita Skeeter had reported him saying an awful lot of things that he couldn't remember ever saying in his life, let alone in that broom cupboard. I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now....Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it....I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me... But Rita Skeeter had gone even further than transforming his "er's" into long, sickly sentences: She had interviewed other people about him too. Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school. From the moment the article had appeared, Harry had had to endure people -Slytherins, mainly - quoting it at him as he passed and making sneering comments. "Want a hanky, Potter, in case you start crying in Transfiguration?" "Since when have you been one of the top students in the school, Potter? Or is this a school you and Longbottom have set up together?" "Hey - Harry!" "Yeah, that's right!" Harry found himself shouting as he wheeled around in the corridor, having had just about enough. "I've just been crying my eyes out over my dead mum, and I'm just off to do a bit more..." "No - it was just - you dropped your quill." It was Cho. Harry felt the color rising in his face. "Oh - right - sorry," he muttered, taking the quill back. "Er...good luck on Tuesday," she said. "I really hope you do well." Which left Harry feeling extremely stupid. Hermione had come in for her fair share of unpleasantness too, but she hadn't yet started yelling at innocent bystanders; in fact, Harry was full of admiration for the way she was handling the situation. "Stunningly pretty? Her?" Pansy Parkinson had shrieked the first time she had come face-to-face with Hermione after Rita's article had appeared. "What was she judging against - a chipmunk?" "Ignore it," Hermione said in a dignified voice, holding her head in the air and stalking past the sniggering Slytherin girls as though she couldn't hear them. "Just ignore it, Harry." But Harry couldn't ignore it. Ron hadn't spoken to him at all since he had told him about Snape's detentions. Harry had half hoped they would make things up during the two hours they were forced to pickle rats' brains in Snape's dungeon, but that had been the day Rita's article had appeared, which seemed to have confirmed Ron's belief that Harry was really enjoying all the attention. Hermione was furious with the pair of them; she went from one to the other, trying to force them to talk to each other, but Harry was adamant: He would talk to Ron again only if Ron admitted that Harry hadn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire and apologized for calling him a liar. "I didn't start this," Harry said stubbornly. "It's his problem." "You miss him!" Hermione said impatiently. "And I know he misses you -" "Miss him?" said Harry. "I don't miss him..." But this was a downright lie. Harry liked Hermione very much, but she just wasn't the same as Ron. There was much hess laughter and a lot more hanging around in the library when Hermione was your best friend. Harry still hadn't mastered Summoning Charms, he seemed to have developed something of a block about them, and Hermione insisted that learning the theory would help. They consequently spent a lot of time poring over books during their lunchtimes. Viktor Krum was in the library an awful lot too, and Harry wondered what he was up to. Was he studying, or was he looking for things to help him through the first task? Hermione often complained about Krum being there - not that he ever bothered them - but because groups of giggling girls often turned up to spy on him from behind bookshelves, and Hermione found the noise distracting. "He's not even good-looking!" she muttered angrily, glaring at Krum's sharp profile. "They only like him because he's famous! They wouldn't look twice at him if he couldn't do that Wonky-Faint thing -" "Wronski Feint," said Harry, through gritted teeth. Quite apart from liking to get Quidditch terms correct, it caused him another pang to imagine Ron's expression if he could have heard Hermione talking about Wonky-Faints. It is a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up. The days until the first task seemed to slip by as though someone had fixed the clocks to work at double speed. Harry's feeling of barely controlled panic was with him wherever he went, as everpresent as the snide comments about the Daily Prophet article. On the Saturday before the first task, all students in the third year and above were permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade. Hermione told Harry that it would do him good to get away from the castle for a bit, and Harry didn't need much persuasion. "What about Ron, though?" he said. "Don't you want to go with him?" "Oh...well..."Hermione went slightly pink. "I thought we might meet up with him in the Three Broomsticks...." "No," said Harry flatly. "Oh Harry, this is so stupid -" "I'll come, but I'm not meeting Ron, and I'm wearing my Invisibility Cloak." "Oh all right then..." Hermione snapped, "but I hate talking to you in that cloak, I never know if I'm looking at you or not." So Harry put on his Invisibility Cloak in the dormitory, went back downstairs, and together he and Hermione set off for Hogsmeade. Harry felt wonderfully free under the cloak; he watched other students walking past them as they entered the village, most of them sporting Support Cedric Diggory! badges, but no horrible remarks came his way for a change, and nobody was quoting that stupid article. "People keep looking at me now," said Hermione grumpily as they came out of Honeydukes Sweetshop later, eating large cream-filled chocolates. "They think I'm talking to myself." "Don't move your lips so much then." "Come on, please just take off your cloak for a bit, no one's going to bother you here." "Oh yeah?" said Harry. "Look behind you." Rita Skeeter and her photographer friend had just emerged from the Three Broomsticks pub. Talking in low voices, they passed right by Hermione without hooking at her. Harry backed into the wall of Honeydukes to stop Rita Skeeter from hitting him with her crocodile-skin handbag. When they were gone, Harry said, "She's staying in the village. I bet she's coming to watch the first task." As he said it, his stomach flooded with a wave of molten panic. He didn't mention this; he and Hermione hadn't discussed what was coming in the first task much; he had the feeling she didn't want to think about it. "She's gone," said Hermione, looking right through Harry toward the end of the street. "Why don't we go and have a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, it's a bit cold, isn't it? You don't have to talk to Ron!" she added irritably, correctly interpreting his silence. The Three Broomsticks was packed, mainly with Hogwarts students enjoying their free afternoon, but also with a variety of magical people Harry rarely saw anywhere else. Harry supposed that as Hogsmeade was the only all-wizard village in Britain, it was a bit of a haven for creatures like hags, who were not as adept as wizards at disguising themselves. It was very hard to move through crowds in the Invisibility Cloak, in case you accidentally trod on someone, which tended to lead to awkward questions. Harry edged slowly toward a spare table in the corner while Hermione went to buy drinks. On his way through the pub, Harry spotted Ron, who was sitting with Fred, George, and Lee Jordan. Resisting the urge to give Ron a good hard poke in the back of the head, he finally reached the table and sat down at it. Hermione joined him a moment later and slipped him a butterbeer under his cloak. "I look like such an idiot, sitting here on my own," she muttered. "Lucky I brought something to do." And she pulled out a notebook in which she had been keeping a record of S.P.E.W. members. Harry saw his and Ron's names at the top of the very short list. It seemed a long time ago that they had sat making up those predictions together, and Hermione had turned up and appointed them secretary and treasurer. "You know, maybe I should try and get some of the villagers involved in S.P.E.W.," Hermione said thoughtfully, looking around the pub. "Yeah, right," said Harry. He took a swig of butterbeer under his cloak. "Hermione, when are you going to give up on this spew stuff?" "When house-elves have decent wages and working conditions!" she hissed back. "You know, I'm starting to think it's time for more direct action. I wonder how you get into the school kitchens?" "No idea, ask Fred and George," said Harry. Hermione lapsed into thoughtful silence, while Harry drank his butterbeer, watching the people in the pub. All of them looked cheerful and relaxed. Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot were swapping Chocolate Frog cards at a nearby table; both of them sporting Support Cedric Diggory! badges on their cloaks. Right over by the door he saw Cho and a large group of her Ravenclaw friends. She wasn't wearing a Cedric badge though....This cheered up Harry very slightly.... What wouldn't he have given to be one of these people, sitting around laughing and talking, with nothing to worry about but homework? He imagined how it would have felt to be here if his name hadn't come out of the Goblet of Fire. He wouldn't be wearing the Invisibility Cloak, for one thing. Ron would be sitting with him. The three of them would probably be happily imagining what deadly dangerous task the school champions would be facing on Tuesday. He'd have been really hooking forward to it, watching them do whatever it was...cheering on Cedric with everyone else, safe in a seat at the back of the stands... He wondered how the other champions were feeling. Every time he had seen Cedric lately, he had been surrounded by admirers and looking nervous but excited. Harry glimpsed Fleur Delacour from time to time in the corridors; she looked exactly as she always did, haughty and unruffled. And Krum just sat in the library, poring over books. Harry thought of Sirius, and the tight, tense knot in his chest seemed to ease slightly. He would be speaking to him in just over twelve hours, for tonight was the night they were meeting at the common room fire - assuming nothing went wrong, as everything else had done lately... "Look, it's Hagrid!" said Hermione. The back of Hagrid's enormous shaggy head - he had mercifully abandoned his bunches - emerged over the crowd. Harry wondered why he hadn't spotted him at once, as Hagrid was so large, but standing up carefully, he saw that Hagrid had been leaning low, talking to Professor Moody. Hagrid had his usual enormous tankard in front of him, but Moody was drinking from his hip flask. Madam Rosmerta, the pretty landlady, didn't seem to think much of this; she was looking askance at Moody as she collected glasses from tables around them. Perhaps she thought it was an insult to her mulled mead, but Harry knew better. Moody had told them all during their last Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson that he preferred to prepare his own food and drink at all times, as it was so easy for Dark wizards to poison an unattended cup. As Harry watched, he saw Hagrid and Moody get up to leave. He waved, then remembered that Hagrid couldn't see him. Moody, however, paused, his magical eye on the corner where Harry was standing. He tapped Hagrid in the small of the back (being unable to reach his shoulder), muttered something to him, and then the pair of them made their way back across the pub toward Harry and Hermione's table. "All right, Hermione?" said Hagrid loudly. "Hello," said Hermione, smiling back. Moody limped around the table and bent down; Harry thought he was reading the S.P.E.W. notebook, until he muttered, "Nice cloak, Potter." Harry stared at him in amazement. The large chunk missing from Moody's nose was particularly obvious at a few inches' distance. Moody grinned. "Can your eye - I mean, can you -?" "Yeah, it can see through Invisibility Cloaks," Moody said quietly. "And it's come in useful at times, I can tell you." Hagrid was beaming down at Harry too. Harry knew Hagrid couldn't see him, but Moody had obviously told Hagrid he was there. Hagrid now bent down on the pretext of reading the S.P.E.W. notebook as well, and said in a whisper so low that only Harry could hear it, "Harry, meet me tonight at midnight at me cabin. Wear that cloak." Straightening up, Hagrid said loudly, "Nice ter see yeh, Hermione," winked, and departed. Moody followed him. "Why does Hagrid want me to meet him at midnight?" Harry said, very surprised. "Does he?" said Hermione, looking startled. "I wonder what he's up to? I don't know whether you should go, Harry...." She looked nervously around and hissed, "It might make you late for Sirius." It was true that going down to Hagrid's at midnight would mean cutting his meeting with Sirius very fine indeed; Hermione suggested sending Hedwig down to Hagrid's to tell him he couldn't go - always assuming she would consent to take the note, of course - Harry, however, thought it better just to be quick at whatever Hagrid wanted him for. He was very curious to know what this might be; Hagrid had never asked Harry to visit him so late at night. At half past eleven that evening, Harry, who had pretended to go up to bed early, pulled the Invisibility Cloak back over himself and crept back downstairs through the common room. Quite a few people were still in there. The Creevey brothers had managed to get hold of a stack of Support Cedric Diggory! badges and were trying to bewitch them to make them say Support Harry Potter! instead. So far, however, all they had managed to do was get the badges stuck on POTTER STINKS. Harry crept past them to the portrait hole and waited for a minute or so, keeping an eye on his watch. Then Hermione opened the Fat Lady for him from outside as they had planned. He slipped past her with a whispered "Thanks!" and set off through the castle. The grounds were very dark. Harry walked down the lawn toward the lights shining in Hagrid's cabin. The inside of the enormous Beauxbatons carriage was also lit up; Harry could hear Madame Maxime talking inside it as he knocked on Hagrid's front door. "You there, Harry?" Hagrid whispered, opening the door and looking around. "Yeah," said Harry, slipping inside the cabin and pulling the cloak down off his head. "What's up?" "Got summat ter show yeh," said Hagrid. There was an air of enormous excitement about Hagrid. He was wearing a flower that resembled an oversized artichoke in his buttonhole. It looked as though he had abandoned the use of axle grease, but he had certainly attempted to comb his hair - Harry could see the comb's broken teeth tangled in it. "What're you showing me?" Harry said warily, wondering if the skrewts had laid eggs, or Hagrid had managed to buy another giant three-headed dog off a stranger in a pub. "Come with me, keep quiet, an' keep yerself covered with that cloak," said Hagrid. "We won' take Fang, he won' like it..." "Listen, Hagrid, I can't stay long....I've got to be back up at the castle by one o'clock -" But Hagrid wasn't listening; he was opening the cabin door and striding off into the night. Harry hurried to follow and found, to his great surprise, that Hagrid was leading him to the Beauxbatons carriage. "Hagrid, what -?" "Shhh!" said Hagrid, and he knocked three times on the door bearing the crossed golden wands. Madame Maxime opened it. She was wearing a silk shawl wrapped around her massive shoulders. She smiled when she saw Hagrid. "Ah, 'Agrid...it is time?" "Bong-sewer," said Hagrid, beaming at her, and holding out a hand to help her down the golden steps. Madame Maxime closed the door behind her, Hagrid offered her his arm, and they set off around the edge of the paddock containing Madame Maxime's giant winged horses, with Harry, totally bewildered, running to keep up with them. Had Hagrid wanted to show him Madame Maxime? He could see her any old time he wanted...she wasn't exactly hard to miss.... But it seemed that Madame Maxime was in for the same treat as Harry, because after a while she said playfully, "Wair is it you are taking me, 'Agrid?" "Yeh'll enjoy this," said Hagrid gruffly, "worth seein', trust me. On'y - don' go tellin' anyone I showed yeh, right? Yeh're not s'posed ter know." "Of course not," said Madame Maxime, fluttering her long black eyelashes. And still they walked, Harry getting more and more irritated as he jogged along in their wake, checking his watch every now and then. Hagrid had some harebrained scheme in hand, which might make him miss Sirius. If they didn't get there soon, he was going to turn around, go straight back to the castle, and leave Hagrid to enjoy his moonlit stroll with Madame Maxime.... But then - when they had walked so far around the perimeter of the forest that the castle and the lake were out of sight - Harry heard something. Men were shouting up ahead...then came a deafening, earsplitting roar... Hagrid led Madame Maxime around a clump of trees and came to a halt. Harry hurried up alongside them - for a split second, he thought he was seeing bonfires, and men darting around them - and then his mouth fell open. Dragons. Four fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons were rearing onto their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood, roaring and snorting - torrents of fire were shooting into the dark sky from their open, fanged mouths, fifty feet above the ground on their outstretched necks. There was a silvery-blue one with long, pointed horns, snapping and snarling at the wizards on the ground; a smooth-scaled green one, which was writhing and stamping with all its might; a red one with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face, which was shooting mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air; and a gigantic black one, more lizard-hike than the others, which was nearest to them. At least thirty wizards, seven or eight to each dragon, were attempting to control them, pulling on the chains connected to heavy leather straps around their necks and legs. Mesmerized, Harry looked up, high above him, and saw the eyes of the black dragon, with vertical pupils like a cat's, bulging with either fear or rage, he couldn't tell which....It was making a horrible noise, a yowling, screeching scream.... "Keep back there, Hagrid!" yelled a wizard near the fence, straining on the chain he was holding. "They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I've seen this Horntail do forty!" "Is'n' it beautiful?" said Hagrid softly. "It's no good!" yelled another wizard. "Stunning Spells, on the count of three!" Harry saw each of the dragon keepers pull out his wand. "Stupefy!" they shouted in unison, and the Stunning Spells shot into the darkness like fiery rockets, bursting in showers of stars on the dragons' scaly hides - Harry watched the dragon nearest to them teeter dangerously on its back legs; its jaws stretched wide in a silent howl; its nostrils were suddenly devoid of flame, though still smoking - then, very slowly, it fell. Several tons of sinewy, scaly-black dragon hit the ground with a thud that Harry could have sworn made the trees behind him quake. The dragon keepers lowered their wands and walked forward to their fallen charges, each of which was the size of a small hill. They hurried to tighten the chains and fasten them securely to iron pegs, which they forced deep into the ground with their wands. "Wan' a closer look?" Hagrid asked Madame Maxime excitedly. The pair of them moved right up to the fence, and Harry followed. The wizard who had warned Hagrid not to come any closer turned, and Harry realized who it was: Charlie Weasley. "All right, Hagrid?" he panted, coming over to talk. "They should be okay now - we put them out with a Sleeping Draft on the way here, thought it might be better for them to wake up in the dark and the quiet - but, like you saw, they weren't happy, not happy at all -" "What breeds you got here, Charlie?" said Hagrid, gazing at the closest dragon, the black one, with something chose to reverence. Its eyes were still just open. Harry could see a strip of gleaming yellow beneath its wrinkled black eyelid. "This is a Hungarian Horntail," said Charlie. "There's a Common Welsh Green over there, the smaller one - a Swedish Short-Snout, that blue-gray - and a Chinese Fireball, that's the red." Charlie looked around; Madame Maxime was strolling away around the edge of the enclosure, gazing at the stunned dragons. "I didn't know you were bringing her, Hagrid," Charlie said, frowning. "The champions aren't supposed to know what's coming - she's bound to tell her student, isn't she?" "Jus' thought she'd like ter see 'em," shrugged Hagrid, still gazing, enraptured, at the dragons. "Really romantic date, Hagrid," said Charlie, shaking his head. "Four..." said Hagrid, "so it's one fer each o' the champions, is it? What've they gotta do - fight 'em?" "Just get past them, I think," said Charlie. "We'll be on hand if it gets nasty, Extinguishing Spells at the ready. They wanted nesting mothers, I don't know why...but I tell you this, I don't envy the one who gets the Horntail. Vicious thing. Its back end's as dangerous as its front, look." Charlie pointed toward the Horntail's tail, and Harry saw long, bronze-colored spikes protruding along it every few inches. Five of Charlie's fellow keepers staggered up to the Horntail at that moment, carrying a clutch of huge granite-gray eggs between them in a blanket. They placed them carefully at the Horntail's side. Hagrid let out a moan of longing. "I've got them counted, Hagrid," said Charlie sternly. Then he said, "How's Harry?" "Fine," said Hagrid. He was still gazing at the eggs. "Just hope he's still fine after he's faced this lot," said Charlie grimly, looking out over the dragons' enclosure. "I didn't dare tell Mum what he's got to do for the first task; she's already having kittens about him...." Charlie imitated his mother's anxious voice. "'How could they let him enter that tournament, he's much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was going to be an age limit!' She was in floods after that Daily Prophet article about him. 'He still cries about his parents! Oh bless him, I never knew!'" Harry had had enough. Trusting to the fact that Hagrid wouldn't miss him, with the attractions of four dragons and Madame Maxime to occupy him, he turned silently and began to walk away, back to the castle. He didn't know whether he was glad he'd seen what was coming or not. Perhaps this way was better. The first shock was over now. Maybe if he'd seen the dragons for the first time on Tuesday, he would have passed out cold in front of the whole school...but maybe he would anyway....He was going to be armed with his wand - which, just now, felt like nothing more than a narrow strip of wood - against a fifty-foot-high, scaly, spike-ridden, fire-breathing dragon. And he had to get past it. With everyone watching. How? Harry sped up, skirting the edge of the forest; he had just under fifteen minutes to get back to the fireside and talk to Sirius, and he couldn't remember, ever, wanting to talk to someone more than he did right now - when, without warning, he ran into something very solid. Harry fell backward, his glasses askew, clutching the cloak around him. A voice nearby said, "Ouch! Who's there?" Harry hastily checked that the cloak was covering him and hay very still, staring up at the dark outline of the wizard he had hit. He recognized the goatee...it was Karkaroff. "Who's there?" said Karkaroff again, very suspiciously, looking around in the darkness. Harry remained still and silent. After a minute or so, Karkaroff seemed to decide that he had hit some sort of animal; he was looking around at waist height, as though expecting to see a dog. Then he crept back under the cover of the trees and started to edge forward toward the place where the dragons were. Very slowly and very carefully, Harry got to his feet and set off again as fast as he could without making too much noise, hurrying through the darkness back toward Hogwarts. He had no doubt whatsoever what Karkaroff was up to. He had sneaked off his ship to try and find out what the first task was going to be. He might even have spotted Hagrid and Madame Maxime heading off around the forest together - they were hardly difficult to spot at a distance...and now all Karkaroff had to do was follow the sound of voices, and he, like Madame Maxime, would know what was in store for the champions. By the looks of it, the only champion who would be facing the unknown on Tuesday was Cedric. Harry reached the castle, slipped in through the front doors, and began to climb the marble stairs; he was very out of breath, but he didn't dare slow down....He had less than five minutes to get up to the fire.... "Balderdash!" he gasped at the Fat Lady, who was snoozing in her frame in front of the portrait hole. "If you say so," she muttered sleepily, without opening her eyes, and the picture swung forward to admit him. Harry climbed inside. The common room was deserted, and, judging by the fact that it smelled quite normal, Hermione had not needed to set off any Dungbombs to ensure that he and Sirius got privacy. Harry pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and threw himself into an armchair in front of the fire. The room was in semidarkness; the flames were the only source of light. Nearby, on a table, the Support Cedric Diggory! badges the Creeveys had been trying to improve were glinting in the firelight. They now read POTTER REALLY STINKS. Harry looked back into the flames, and jumped. Sirius's head was sitting in the fire. If Harry hadn't seen Mr. Diggory do exactly this back in the Weasleys' kitchen, it would have scared him out of his wits. Instead, his face breaking into the first smile he had worn for days, he scrambled out of his chair, crouched down by the hearth, and said, "Sirius - how're you doing?" Sirius looked different from Harry's memory of him. When they had said good-bye, Sirius's face had been gaunt and sunken, surrounded by a quantity of long, black, matted hair - but the hair was short and clean now, Sirius's face was fuller, and he looked younger, much more like the only photograph Harry had of him, which had been taken at the Potters' wedding. "Never mind me, how are you?" said Sirius seriously. "I'm -" For a second, Harry tried to say "fine" - but he couldn't do it. Before he could stop himself, he was talking more than he'd talked in days - about how no one believed he hadn't entered the tournament of his own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, how he couldn't walk down a corridor without being sneered at - and about Ron, Ron not believing him, Ron's jealousy... "...and now Hagrid's just shown me what's coming in the first task, and it's dragons, Sirius, and I'm a goner," he finished desperately. Sirius looked at him, eyes full of concern, eyes that had not yet lost the look that Azkaban had given them - that deadened, haunted look He had let Harry talk himself into silence without interruption, but now he said, "Dragons we can deal with, Harry, but we'll get to that in a minute - I haven't got long here...I've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about." "What?" said Harry, feeling his spirits slip a further few notches....Surely there could be nothing worse than dragons coming? "Karkaroff," said Sirius. "Harry, he was a Death Eater. You know what Death Eaters are, don't you?" "Yes - he - what?" "He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year - to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place." "Karkaroff got released?" Harry said slowly - his brain seemed to be struggling to absorb yet another piece of shocking information. "Why did they release him?" "He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," said Sirius bitterly. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named names...he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place....He's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well." "Okay," said Harry slowly. "But...are you saying Karkaroff put my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me from competing." "We know he's a good actor," said Sirius, "because he convinced the Ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he? Now, I've been keeping an eye on the Daily Prophet, Harry -" "- you and the rest of the world," said Harry bitterly. "- and reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts. Yes, I know she says it was another false alarm," Sirius said hastily, seeing Harry about to speak, "but I don't think so, somehow. I think someone tried to stop him from getting to Hogwarts. I think someone knew their job would be a lot more difficult with him around. And no one's going to look into it too closely; Mad-Eye's heard intruders a bit too often. But that doesn't mean he can't still spot the real thing. Moody was the best Auror the Ministry ever had." "So...what are you saying?" said Harry slowly. "Karkaroff's trying to kill me? But - why?" Sirius hesitated. "I've been nearing some very strange things," he said slowly. "The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone set off the Dark Mark...and then - did you hear about that Ministry of Magic witch who's gone missing?" "Bertha Jorkins?" said Harry. "Exactly...she disappeared in Albania, and that's definitely where Voldemort was rumored to be last...and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?" "Yeah, but...it's not very likely she'd have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?" said Harry. "Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins," said Sirius grimly. "She was at Hogwarts when I was, a few years above your dad and me. And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a good combination, Harry. I'd say she'd be very easy to lure into a trap." "So...so Voldemort could have found out about the tournament?" said Harry. "Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?" "I don't know," said Sirius slowly, "I just don't know...Karkaroff doesn't strike me as the type who'd go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can't help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it hook like an accident." "Looks hike a really good plan from where I'm standing," said Harry grinning bleaky. "They'll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff." "Right - these dragons," said Sirius, speaking very quickly now. "There's a way, Harry. Don't be tempted to try a Stunning Spell - dragons are strong and too powerfully magical to be knocked out by a single Stunner, you need about half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon -" "Yeah, I know, I just saw," said Harry. "But you can do it alone," said Sirius. "There is away, and a simple spell's all you need. Just -" But Harry held up a hand to silence him, his heart suddenly pounding as though it would burst. He could hear footsteps coming down the spiral staircase behind him. "Go!" he hissed at Sirius. " Go! There's someone coming!" Harry scrambled to his feet, hiding the fire - if someone saw Sirius's face within the walls of Hogwarts, they would raise an almighty uproar - the Ministry would get dragged in - he, Harry, would be questioned about Sirius's whereabouts - Harry heard a tiny pop! in the fire behind him and knew Sirius had gone. He watched the bottom of the spiral staircase. Who had decided to go for a stroll at one o'clock in the morning, and stopped Sirius from telling him how to get past a dragon? It was Ron. Dressed in his maroon paisley pajamas, Ron stopped dead facing Harry across the room, and looked around. "Who were you talking to?" he said. "What's that got to do with you?" Harry snarled. "What are you doing down here at this time of night?" "I just wondered where you -" Ron broke off, shrugging. "Nothing. I'm going back to bed." "Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" Harry shouted. He knew that Ron had no idea what he'd walked in on, knew he hadn't done it on purpose, but he didn't care - at this moment he hated everything about Ron, right down to the several inches of bare ankle showing beneath his pajama trousers. "Sorry about that," said Ron, his face reddening with anger. "Should've realized you didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on with practicing for your next interview in peace." Harry seized one of the POTTER REALLY STINKS badges off the table and chucked it, as hard as he could, across the room. It hit Ron on the forehead and bounced off. "There you go," Harry said. "Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now, if yon're lucky....That's what you want, isn't it?" He strode across the room toward the stairs; he half expected Ron to stop him, he would even have liked Ron to throw a punch at him, but Ron just stood there in his too-small pajamas, and Harry, having stormed upstairs, lay awake in bed fuming for a long time afterward and didn't hear him come up to bed.