#if mezzo takes forever

[swaps55]

2023 Year End Fic Wrap Up

Tagged by @cr-noble-writes. Thank you!

Words written (published or not, WIPs totally count too!):

Published: 65,113 Unpublished:  41,773 Total: 106,886

It feels like I wrote a lot less this year than previous years, but I think it’s less about word count and more that my two big projects, Fugue and Mezzo, sucked up my entire mental bandwidth and I just didn’t have capacity to kick out one shots like I have in the past. I have a bunch of ideas for fun one shots, but not enough time or energy to realize them.

Also, this number is by no means accurate. My Mezzo Leftovers document is sitting at 11.3k, and Fugue finished up with a scrapheap of 28.3k. Gosh, it's hard to believe Fugue was actually 2023. It feels like years ago. Just writing it aged me 10 years. XD

Smut scenes written (if applicable): None. Did I daydream frequently and in great detail about how Sam and Kaidan reconcile in ME3? Yes. Could I write it in my sleep at this point? Also yes. Did I write a word of it? No.

New things I tried: 2nd person POV, Mordin POV, and EDI POV were all new and very scary things I tried, and think were largely successful (jury is still out on EDI and Mordin because only my beta has seen it, but I’m pleased with them).

Fic I spent the most time on: Probably Mezzo, because I wrote more of it than Fugue in 2023.

Fic I spent the least time on: Probably Capriccio, because it was short and mostly wrote itself.

Favourite thing I wrote: Well…I wrote so little outside of the long fics, because they have sucked up all my time and spoons. Fugue is something I am so proud of, but Mezzo has been so fun.

Favourite thing I read: A Sip of Serenity was a Spec Recs Kaidan & Liara treat fic for me by @screwyouflightlieutenant and I love it with an unholy love. Also, Madrigal and Volta by @dandenbo are PHENOMENAL stories you should drop everything and read.

Writing goals for next year: Finishing Mezzo sounds ambitious, but I guess I can be ambitious in January. XD

Tagging...I don't know! Who hasn't done this? If you haven't, please do it and tag me, because I wanna see. @stormikins? @otemporanerys?

[zumicho]

💞 but really I just want to know what you think of ur mutuals ^^

anon. look what u made me do.

ask game

💞 : @ your favorite blog

if you weren’t on this list know I love you !! I just have bad memory <3 IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER !!

@causenessus was the first mutual on this blog I actually talked to / interacted with and her tags for white denim overalls really solidified the fact that I wanted to be part of this community <3 ily ness !!!! anon you didn’t ask but I’m going to list my favorite works from these people too lol

new grounds I think about every 4 business days, and how they comfort you (I’m definitely biased) is so well written and heartfelt !!

@mitskicain is cheating in this thread bc she’s my irl but also quite literally my favorite person alive even tho she NEVER REPLIES WITHIN THE SAME DAY (stuck up, I know) — and if ur into ken sato she’s a great pick !! she has some haikyuu works coming soon too <3

@mollyrolls . the barney to my ted. i love her so bad u guys have no idea I miss her whenever she’s not on here n I’m so grateful they exist </3 molly if u see this u didn’t read that. i hate you i hate you i hate you I hate you hey cupid! is my favorite rendition? version? take..?? on iwa on this app (I’ve said that already) & all shades of blue is criminally underrated

I CAN TELL THIS IS GOING TO BE AN INSANELY LONG POST IM SO SORRY 💔💔💔💔💔

@nectardaddy is an incredible writer and person all around I still can’t fathom that they’re in my dms. dodger u are insane and i love u

88 ford is a well known obsession of mine !! if dodger is the president of the ‘GET UP’ / down bad club consider me the vice president. OH AND IM SO EXCITED FOR I HATE YOUR GUTS

@sweetfushi , the akaashi to my bokuto — sweetest person ever, is one of my only jjk moots and put me onto the show itself 😭🤍 I can’t pick a specific favorite but the way she writes nanami is perfect to me !!! there’s also mha and haikyuu on her page go take a look <3

@kuroppiii RO. THE PATRICK TO MY ART. my favorite film freak on this app. they have a challengers inspired miya twins fic that takes up 90% of the space in my brain. if u don’t go read right NOWWW I’m coming for u and ur family

@sandwhitches IS SOOO FUCKING UNDERRATED her smau dedication is everything. PLUS MY TWIN FLAME HELLO I LOVE U MITCH !!! ur humor is top tier and I’ve never clicked with anyone as quick as I have with you ugh — read on sight or it’s on sight 💥👊

@guitarstringed-scars I haven’t interacted with u as much as I’d wish to but MO UR SO COOL !!! ur movie taste is everything to me and raven’s eye diner is such a creative piece of work and so so fun to read ,, I have to sit down and grab a snack whenever I do

@cr4yolaas is legendary for making mezzo forte I owe u my life rye. I’m so serious rn I was hooked from blue spring (which I still haven’t finished bc i don’t want it to end rip) and I’ll be staying a fan forever!! ur blog is a blessing to this community

@/yenonoff is on a hiatus and I don’t want to bother her but she’s a great rec if u like haikyuu AND eye candy when u read. her blog is just so nice to look at and i miss her terribly

not being on this does NOT mean I don’t like u pleaaaase know I love all of my mutuals dearly n cherish every interaction I have with u all

[yohohonabottle]

Esperia free hugs tour (Reposted from A03)

🖋️Summary: Merlin and her stand-in get into an argument at the Mystical House. The mage is still mad at Sinbad for having been tricked and almost getting killed trice...*allegedly.* Even though it was the substitute who was mostly at risk. Said stand-in calls out the Magister on the massive L's which leads to a cat-fight and the mage to cast a special type of hex, because pettiness, and then kicks the guy out. Yup, just your typical run-of-the-mill afternoon with a whimsical boss. 📖Work status: Completed, oneshot

🎧 Song reccomendations while reading: ============×=========×==========——————— ● Holistone: Dawn Winery theme/Mondstad theme ● Dark Forest: Winding through Avidya/ Nahida's aranara theme * Interlude: Pink Panther theme/The elevator - Kevin Macleod ● Remnant Peak: The vikings have their tea/Sticks and stones from httyd ● Ashen Wastes: Arabic merchants/Scorching outpost ● Rustport: Cutthroat crew/ Hymn of the high seas and Sinbad's song. Don't know why most are from Genshin, but oh well.

—"I'm taking over! You're too lenient!" –A clear mezzo-soprano barks crossly, earning a soft irritable sigh followed up by a few seconds ticking by in tense silence. 

—"Woman, you were fine with leaving me be all this time! So what's with the sudden hands-on approach?" –A low and eerily breathless tenor hisses back sharply in mild vexation as a door upstairs slams and hurried footsteps echo down the flight of stairs, followed by a set of much lighter ones. Soon a woman with chocolate-brown long flowing hair dressed in a long blue vest with checkered puffy sleeves shows up, her cape billowing behind her back. 

—"Good afternoon, Dolly!" She slides down the stairs' railing halfway down then hops off and grins up at the young woman standing behind the bar-counter in the lounge. The assistant– a green-eyed redhead named Dolly–waves back happily with a warm smile, chirping a cheery "Good afternoon, Magister Merlin!" with her sweet fruity voice, pausing her work of wiping down the counter with a rag to polish it. Hopping onto one of the high barstools, Merlin runs a gloved hand through her hair, pushing her bangs behind her ear, tone adopting a more sing-song lilt. 

"One cup of extra honeyed peppermint tea, please. Add a slice of syrup caramel cake, too while at it--Thanks Dolls!" With a nod, the freckled maid sets to work. Meanwhile, the other catches up, not letting the matter go. 

—"Ooh no. You–miss, mister, whatever–Are going to explain. No weaseling out!" 

—"He simply can't be trusted at all, alright? He's a scummy, no-good liar, who only cares about swindling people. Period." –The doe-eyed petite woman huffs with a miffed scoff, one hand on her hip before turning back to her slice of cake and taking a swing of her tea, muttering sourly under her breath– "I let him off easy, should've given him a good round of beating. Maybe I'll throw him into the sea next time. That punk." 

—"Don't tell me you haven't been set up or kept in the dark before." Pouting at those words in discontent, Merlin pointedly ignores the bat and takes another bite of her cake with a muffled 'Mmhm.' then swallows it down with a big gulp of tea. "...Merlin, come on. You seriously can't be pissy about this forever. You're being needlessly petty. Just let it go already." 

Setting her porcelain cup and fork down, the woman snaps her head to give him a pointed glare over her shoulder as she pushes off from her seat. The two little hamsters, having arrived just a minute ago and settled by the counter, look up when their owner's voice rises an octave. 

—"That man got me killed–almost–three times in a row! And not only that, but he had the nerve to not compensate us! You saw it all!" 

It's one of those days again, where seeing eye to eye with the great, legendary mage appears to be mission impossible. Pirin stands with arms crossed over his chest, back leaned on the wall next to the bar counter, watching the brunette pace as if bored. Meanwhile the assistant, Dolly, quietly shuffles behind the counter, eying the two of them uneasily. In the span of half a week, such arguments became commonplace between the owner of the Mystical House and her disgruntled new 'helper'. 

Inhaling a deep breath with a slow roll of his eyes, he smoothly sits down on one of the stools. A glass of iced water is slid on the counter gently and the mercenary swipes it off nimbly, the water sloshing but never spilling, taking a measured sip. 

—"You're speaking as if you were the one at risk. When, let's be real here, you can't get harmed or loose in any way." –He deadpans with an arched owl-like brow, unamused. This gets the mage's attention and she halts in her winded tirade to look at him mildly scandalized and bemused. Setting the glass back on the countertop, the snowy-haired lad rests an elbow on it, continuing in a flat tone. —"You know what I mean, don't give me this look. It was me who was, is, in danger most of the time. You‐" He lifts a gloved hand and gestures to her loosely then lets it fall on his knee. "are here, in the cozy confines of your spire. Away from trouble." 

—"I–" -The fair-skinned lass opens her mouth to refute, but falters and presses her lips into a thin line of frustration instead, and frowns. Her companion mutely watches her for a long moment before speaking in a quieted voice, firm but not ill-mannered. 

—"Furthermore if I recall correctly—it was you who called out and brought me to this world then proceeded to offer me the deal. You stay behind in the Mythic House to take care of 'other important matters' while I play your substitute, in exchange you'll help me find a way out once the journey's done. ...Am I wrong?" 

—"No. You're not." Her squared shoulders slump sharply, gripping her forearm with a gloved hand. "My terms stay the same." But I still hate it when I can't refute your points... 

—"Good. Then sit back and let me do my job." Neither Dolly or Chippy and Hammie speaks up, knowing better than to interfere. Well, the two hamsters actually opened their mouths to argue in their magister's defense, but quickly decided otherwise when Pirin levels them a stern look. A very clear 'Stay out of this.' 

—"Argh! You–! Snide, two-face fiend! Of course you'd play devil's advocate!" 

The room feels cold, tension pressing down like a storm waiting to break loose. The felled star remains deathly muted for a long moment, expression emotionless as he holds her angered leer evenly..coldly. —"Two-faced you say?" Chippy warily unsheathes his heavy sword from its scabbard strapped to his back, but his hands are trembling with fear, knowing it means nothing. His bravado doesn't phase the man. One hit of those razor-sharp claws, that's all it would take to disarm and forfeit his life. But he'd still fight to protect his Magister, like the loyal acorn-knight he is. Pirin calmly slides off from his stool. —"A bold claim that is, ultimately, hardly more than a baseless accusation." His steps are even and soundless graceful strides as he crosses the room leisurely. But the tone is one of cold-blood without remorse or mercy as he goes on to point out as a matter-of-faculty.

—"I never acted or claimed to be a saint, not even back in my younger days. Certainly didn't do from the start of this charade either. Quite opposite, actually. On day one, I've made my intent clear to everyone." Composed, neutral, unreadable. The woman regards him with a cautious displeased frown, following his every move. However, he makes no moves to attack, merely carries on past her, intent to leave and pauses. Brown irises meet pearly white. "It's you who's acting high and mighty whilst wearing my skin, 'my lady'. Or 'my lord', whatever you feel like being on each day." And with that he turns to look ahead. This time, his tone is reminiscing and distant, disapproving; disappointed. Sorry. —"You know...Whether or not Esperia burnt to ashes or thrived, it didn't matter to me. Back then, when you called upon me, ushered me out in the world to carry your burden–I only wanted to get out. But, somehow you made me care. Showed me the reason why. Went as far as to indirectly guide me for the first initial steps, taught me to cradle peoples' hopes and dreams like treasures...You set me an example, of not only how to carry your legacy." The magister looks away, and says nothing. That part, she still remembers vividly. When Ryeham was ablaze, people were in peril, and fire Elementals and gruglins ran rampant causing havoc through the two villages. 

Back then, the newly incarnated spirit wanted to have nothing to do with any of it, rather stay out of the matter and either passively watch or leave...Until she showed him fragmented visions of the villagers' plight, each life having great value and potential–Not just some fragile, puny bugs that only know how to be at each other's throats and devour everything around them in the process. Managed to peel back the hardened layers of ice, and stone to coax out the kind, gentle wounded soul hidden deep in cynicism. Back in those days, Merlin was the one who in the end convinced the distrustful, weary, yearning heart that it's worth it. 

Saving, helping those people, the world and journeying through it whilst holding it aloft–It's worth it. 

"Now you only care about wealth and praise, seeing others as nothing but little pawns...As though they're like you–Immune to harm and death, the world nothing, but your playground. You hold grudges, have let glory get to your head and get furious at the smallest of slights and inconveniences. You've become a righteous zealot whom merely wants to appear like a hero, keeping up a saintly mask instead of do as you preach." Turning around, Pirin fully faces the mage with a wan smile, tone soft. But the words, the ugly ruthless truth cut deep–Stirring up deep angered guilt, remorse and self-disappointment. 

—"What happened, Merlin?" 

Balling her hands into tight fists, she blinks back bitter tears, and smiles wryly, turning on her heel to face him. Beneath the sweet tone, lies a sardonic edge of pained scorn. 

—"You have a lot of nerve, friend–Talking about truth. Like some wise arbiter rendering judgement, when you yourself wear a hero's mask." That I've thrusted upon you without question. The air crackles with energy, the storm so close to breaking in full force.

A ball of light slowly manifests into the palm of her hand.

—"Since you took down mine, let me remove yours, no?" The light lashes out in an instant like a powerful blast, hitting him square in the chest–In the heart, forcing the towering walls to crumble and the frost to thaw, inner thoughts unlocked with no way to be locked up again. Not unless the spell is undone. 

In a blink, the blazing star is gone.  

.

.

Somewhere in Holistone, on the beaten down path winding through the village of Northville, a small squad is passing by. Two solders, two archers, along with two shielded hoplites and their captain. Sauntering with easy, languid strides and hands laced behind his head, Valen effortlessly keeps a discreet eye on his surroundings. It has been well over four years since the attack and attempted corruption of the crops in Southville. Everything looks to be in order, peaceful with the occasional fire caused by negligence in spite of the village chief's instructions aside, or attempts at controlled fire and junk disposal going awry. But it barely gets further than that, thankfully. 

*Thud.* ...What was that? 

—"What was that?" One of the archers looks around, hands moving to grip his bow. Nothing comes in his line of sight. The other solder tries to play it off cool by muttering with a light dismissive shrug of her shoulders.

—"Sounds like someone falling. Probably a drunkard." 

Glancing over at the others, it appears he's really not imagining things. Letting his carefree stance drop to one of slight caution, he grips Stormcaller with a hand and gives a dismissive wave before anyone could speak. Don't rush to draw your weapons. The solders nod stiffly in response.

—"I'll go check it out, I won't be long." After a nod from the heavy-armored squad giving green-light to proceed, Valen turns and heads towards the noise. The dirt quietly crunches under his boots as he approaches steadily, straining his hearing for any other sounds. Nothing moves, the sun continuing its lazy descent. Good. So far at least. The noise came somewhere here, near the waystone at the road's fork. Could it have been a crow dropping a stick? No, too heavy. A few more steps forward– The wheat on the right rustle. 

!

Scowling, the high-ranking knight unsheathes the lightning-infused blade and darts straight for the source, ready to strike in the blink of an eye. Only to immediately halt in his tracks with coarse eyebrows raised to his hairline in surprise as the silhouette gets up. Albeit having a bit of trouble keeping balance as though dazed. 

—"Pirin? What are you doing here? Hold on, let me help–" Quickly, the former mercenary steps forward and sheaths his weapon. With a faintly pained hum, said man stands still, eyes screwed shut and clutching his forehead with a gloved hand; barely registers Valen's call or approaching steps, the world still spinning for another second. And then he tries to step back with a shake of his head, or forth, but trips over a small rock–Warm, lean yet strong arms steady him. "I got you. Easy, you appear to be dizzy." 

—"Thanks, Val. The teleportation made me off-balance for a second." The knight flashes him a charming smile, and offers back with his ringing tenor holding a laid-back lilt that softens at the end. It's been so long since we last spoke. 

—"No trouble at all. I'm glad you're alright." Holding him for a few more seconds to make sure Pirin's okay to stand on his own, he carefully lets go and draws back. But still stays by the shorter man's side in case he needs help again, falling back into pleasant small talk easily after confirming to himself no threats are nearby. It's not long before Valen's tone turns chipper, peppered with friendly jests and the occasional flirty teasing, casually looping an arm around the other's shoulder. 

And steers him out of the wheat-field, back onto the road while doing so. 

—"Aren't you supposed to be on a vacation in Cedar town? The general told me you were rather reluctant to go. Did you come back because you miss me?" What Valen gets back in place of a verbal answer causes him to pause, caught off-guard: Two ice-cold arms wraps around his waist, encircling him into a tight hug as the mage rests his cheek against his chest, letting out a muffled 'hmmf.' 

Okay, something is definitely wrong. Pirin? Giving hugs? Hypogeans are more likely to turn good than him getting affectionate. 

But, the purple-eyed Solitaire readily returns the hug regardless, huffing a small laugh as he does and gives a light squeeze. It's not the worst surprise to be honest. If anything, the phantom should do this more often, same as smiling and laughing–Better than being perpetually grim or distantly pensive. I can get used to this. 

"Are you under a spell or something? You don't usually have the habit of giving bear-hugs like this." 

Squeezing back tightly, the 'Magister' remains quiet for a second then at last answers, shedding some light on the situation. Plus addressing his inquiries in a mildly miffed tone that seems to be more directed at the culprit behind this 'misfortune', avoiding his gaze. The simple honesty in his voice catches the captain off-kilter. Two times catching him off-guard in a row? Impressive. 

—"Yes–I got into a cat-fight with Merlin by calling him out on his nonsense. He put this stupid jinx on me that forces me to impulsively hug those I deem close, and also talk without filter. I already didn't want say any of this. And yes, yes I missed you–You have no idea." Followed up by an irritable mutter in a slavic tongue under his breath aimed at said mage. "...Диване."

Valen holds back a laugh at the absurdity of this, along with the mild insult per Merlin's address, skillfully maintaining his unfazed poker-face and charming smile as he hums a neutral "I see.." instead. 

—"And, I'm guessing that the more close you view someone, the more you will hug that person right away, right?" I admit–It's comforting to know you see me as a good friend. It's hard to believe just how quickly those years slipped away, and it's like general Hogan has assigned him to watch over the scrawny mage just yesterday. Back then, he'd thought it would be another tedious escort mission with a difficult charge. Only to have been proven wrong on so many levels. It was actually an absolute blast–Even made him tempted to become the magister's personal knight! The adventures they've had, from Ryeham to the Dark Forest and Remnant Peak...Time sure can be a harsh mistress, unrelenting in her march. 

The quiet uneasy hum-like noise Pirin makes draws the brunet out of his momentary reverie and back to the present moment. The response once again promptly wipes off his smirk, replacing it with a look of near disbelieving surprise, blinking down at his former charge stumped. 

—"...Yes. And I would have hugged you sooner but was too woozy. I..don't want to let go, actually. ..ugh, I should seriously shut my trap before I say something stupid." A slow smile begins to tug at the corners of his mouth, amethyst eyes twinkling with amusement, sympathy, playfulness, quiet joy and fondness as he regards his old pal, keeping his arms around the other's slender frame. Ignoring that last little grumble and choosing to focus on the previous words.

—"Well, then don't. It's okay to cuddle for a moment from time to time, and frankly–I don't mind it in the slightest. Not to mention you seem to need it with how stressed you must be, shouldering the Magister's mantle mostly alone." Mostly alone... Technically it's not true since Chippy & Hammie are a constant but. They're not exactly classified as pleasant company in his book, let alone 'friends', are they? And the folks who inevitably end up joining the party for the journey's duration? Strangers too fleeting to get out of the 'faceless ally or obstacle' mental category. 

Most of the time the adventure ends much too soon, not enough to get a better look at the person or group. ....And yet here this sassy knight is–Having left a lasting impression that hasn't faded since. Jumped quickly from a faceless stranger to friend and snatched his loyalty, almost as if with the snap of his fingers. Or have I softened? Become too lenient, like Merlin said..?

"Can't believe I fall so quickly...so embarrassing. You just–" Dammit, misspoke! The Graveborn-looking man clamps his mouth shut, and quickly slips out of his companion's grasp like a fish or smoke. "K, I should scurry–See ya!"

—"Vanya–!"

—"Captain Valen!"

—"Sir Valen!" Oop, out of time. 

Hurried footsteps approach, and the chestnut-haired swordsman winces at realizing he has made a slight blunder. Whoops, I completely forgot about our mission. Sure enough, a group of worried colleagues catches up.

—"Captain, we heard rustling in the wheat-fields on our way and a voice–" 

Turning to face them, he raises one hand in a reassuring gesture for the group to pipe down, running the other through his wavy strands with a mildly sheepish smile. 

—"Nothing to worry about, Sam. You probably heard a mouse, as for the latter–I ran into a friend. Turns out he wasn't feeling well and thought he'd lost something in the wheat, but lost his footing." Half-bullcrap and half-truth. The others exchange looks of curiosity and sympathy. Meanwhile Sam scratched the back of his head, mumbling a disapproving "Well, I hope he recovers swiftly..But I think he ought to ease up, mind his well-being a little more." Looks like the team's divided between assuming said friend has overworked himself, is sickly, or had one beer too many. 

—"It's alright, he will be fine. Now, how about we go finish our cursory look and go for a round of drinks at Traveler's Light?" A round of collective agreement follows and everyone moves on to make their rounds after divvying up with their superior going patrol the fields. Valen smiles to himself, making a small mental note...

-----------

Somewhere in the Dark Forest...

The teleportation wasn't kind this time either. Thankfully it didn't give him vertigo for very long, all it took was to blink his eyes and shake it off. Rising onto his feet and dusting himself off, the wintery traveler carries on, slinking through the dense foliage soundlessly. Taking a deep breath to clear his mind, Pirin slows down his gait, lifting his head to watch the skies... Each step is an old memory: Resolving the inner Thornguard conflict, curing the roots, overthrowing Eomir and restoring the Lucent tree after obtaining the Sylvan egg, witnessing Lyca's 'crowning' as the new scion of the sacred tree–

I wonder if Lily May has been let out...Still can't believe Lenya is in-charge of the Dusk patrollers. I've..completely lost track of time, haven't I? Hold on–

Up ahead, the voices of children frolicking and soft chatter flows like warm rivers. And a village nestled deep into the rainforest comes into sight, the towering weeping willow at the center standing like a proud beacon amidst the cluster of humble houses, lush gardens, shrubbery and peaceful folks going about their daily lives. The sun peers through the trees, painting the jungle village in a warm dappled light almost like giving it a halo, the soft blues, reds, pinks and yellows of dawn making the place look... Ethereal. 

Like returning home. 

Stopping in his tracks, the lone wolf finds himself suddenly breathless as he stands before the vine bridge–In the shade of the grove. There's a tightening in his chest and throat, like longing, warmth, joy and pain all in one..strange sweet nostalgia. ...My first 'home'.. How did I get to Lunadorf...? A pull deep in his heart brings Pirin out from his reverent musings and tugs him forward. 

Scowling, he huffs a faint 'Seriously?' to himself under his breath, feet already not listening and shuffling towards the village. Oh great, the spell got triggered again. There, by the willow tree–Stand two rabbit siblings, a blond stag and an avian with his trusty teal and blue-plumaged falcon. How can he ever mistake their voices? Hey, w-wait! Hold on–! But it's too late, already breaking into a jog that turns to a run despite desperately trying not to.

The blue-feathered bird perching on her companion's arm stops in her idle preening and snaps her head in alert, turning her head towards the bridge. And lets out a slight screech in happy greetings as well as signaling the approaching of another person. Perceptive as always, the blindfolded Windwhisperer tilts his head, inquisitively listening to his friend's thoughts and smiles subtly.

—"Looks like we have company." –He acknowledges in his smooth, velvety baritone voice, tone calm as ever, causing the others to give a quizzical look. A bit puzzled at Bryon and Elona for a moment, at first.

Lorsan's smug grin falters, now looking confused as he echoes "Company..?" while his older sister adopts a more contemplative stance, trying to figure out who could this new arrival be. Her unvoiced thoughts getting echoed by the towering swordsman whom also looks pensive, teal eyes sweeping over the village. 

—"Who could it be?" The group pause in their conversation, the two siblings' ears giving a small twitch, picking up on his footfalls. All four turn their heads to look at the newcomer at hearing his familiar 'dulcet' tone. Or deathly. The former Dusk patroller captain, scion of the Lucent tree and the grey-haired Windwhisperer wearing expressions of incredulous surprise on their faces, shocked to see their 'Graveborn' comrade running toward them as if chased by Glimmerblooms or angry gruglins. Except for Bryon who appears composed if not mildly amused.

—"Lyca! Eironn! Bryon!" 

—"Pirin?"–The pink-haired woman and the Stormsword question almost in perfect unison, both appearing as though startled for a second. It really is him. 

—"Hey! You left me out! What about me?" –The blue-eyed hare protests with a pout at his name not being called out. And then lets out a small 'oof!' as he and the other three Wilders get enveloped into a bone-crushing hug, almost tackled even due to the momentum. Good grief, he's squeezing like a python! 

–"Gah, I can't breathe!" –Poor Lorsan gasps out with a small grimace, squirming to get free and feeling like his lungs are being pressed. When that doesn't work, he lightly swats at the shorter man's shoulder, choking out his laments— "Vanyo–Too tight! Ease up, you'll crush us!" Meanwhile Eironn stays perfectly stiff, unsure of what to make of this encounter or what to do. Getting and giving any form of affection is still very foreign to him, plus the added fact that social interactions aren't his strongest suit...So he ends up awkwardly standing still, brain practically short-circuiting due to overthinking.

On the other hand, Lyca recovers from her initial surprise and hugs back with surprising strength, a big smile on her lips. (The pallid 'Magister' hurriedly loosens his grasp as if burnt or stung and the bard heaves a sigh of relief, then hesitantly returns the embrace as well. Bryon is merely watching the reunion with a faint smile of quiet happiness, having dodged the hug.) 

—"Welcome back to Lunadorf! We are so happy to see you again!" Forcing himself to let go and pull back, 'Merlin' offers them a sheepish smile as he steps back, mumbling a quick 'Sorry 'bout this.' (Right as Eironn seemed to have finally made up his mind and moved to hug back but stopped himself with a quiet clear of his throat.) Then clasps his hands behind his back, lightly shifting from one foot to another, embarrassed by his impulsive actions. 

—"Heh. Благодаря, и вие ми липсвахте." Thanks to having spent months together on their misadventures, the four Wilders had heard him chatter in this foreign tongue pretty often–Either when livid, exceptionally nervous or any other particularly strong emotion at the time–so it's nothing new. Although Lyca, Bryon and Eironn had managed to take to the language fairly quickly– Lorsan still struggles to grasp it or what's being said. 

—"Uhm, Pirin?" –His baffled pout remains in-tact but now a small grin plays on his features, one brow quirked with gloved hands on his hips. Effectively drawing the other man's attention, who realizes he has spoken in native again and gives an apologetic smile. "Mind if you translate, please? I couldn't quite catch that." 

—"I said 'thank you' and 'I missed you too.' Sorry for the slip-up." Lorsan, however casually waves it off, not minding one bit. It's not that he's got any issues with him babbling or singing in that language, on the contrary–It fascinates him! It's just that he can't understand very well beyond the very basic 'hello', 'goodbye', 'yes' and 'no'.

—"No need to apologize to us for speaking in your native. We all tend to slip into our default language from time to time."–The hare Wilder tosses a teasing smug look over at his old friend. "Isn't that right, Bryon?" The question bears completely different meaning. Said avian Windwhisperer jabs back in kind with that ever so smoothly light sarcasm of his, returning the favor.

—"Indeed, that is the case." 

—"See? Even he agrees." A few seconds pass, and then Lorsan's dazzling smirk quickly turns to an indignant frown– Throwing the other Wilder a surly glare as he snaps back. "Hey! I just got back from voyaging for a bit, and you're already giving me sass!" 

—"I don't know what you mean. I simply confirmed your statement." 

—"You–!!" Lorsan looks about to throw hands, Lyca only crosses her arms over her chest with an unimpressed scowl as she watches the two of them bicker. Not even a proper week since he has returned home for a brief visit, and he's already back at his childish antics with Bryon again. It's like the five of them are at the Old outpost again, back to that moment of their adventures with the mercenary. The memories flash in her mind, and a fondly mirthful smile settles on her lips unbidden. Some things never change.

"Boys." –She sighs with a shake of her head, leaving the two 'fools' to continue exchanging jabs in the background. (Her younger brother, much to his chagrin and growing frustration, keeps getting outwitted by his fellow Windwhisperer at every turn.) Meanwhile Eironn has absolutely no idea what to do with himself, so he just...defaults to idly practicing his swordplay and listens to his two old comrades with half-an ear in case the clash of wits turns to one of fists. Turning back to Pirin– The new Scion of Misarte's sacred tree gently takes him by the hand with a warm smile, earning herself a curious look. 

—"Come on, let's go find you a place to rest. You must be exhausted from your journey." Lyca barely gives him much time to answer before tugging him to come along, throwing an easy-going 'Please keep an eye on Lorsan for me!' over her shoulder at the Stormsword and gets a simple dutiful nod in return. Already her mind is zipping from one place to another as though planning a welcome back party for their short 'ghost'– Lodging accommodations, food according to his specific diet, places to tour, show what's new and improved, the whole nine yards. 

A cold gloved hand comes to rest on her shoulder, halting the woman in her tracks. The wistful, apologetic note tinting her companion's voice draws her attention.

—"Lyca. Thank you for the hospitality, but I shouldn't linger very long." 

—"Huh? But..How come? Is there a task you need to do or places to be?" Worry. The magister gives a small shake of his head, waving off her apprehension in silent reassurance as if to say 'It's nothing grave.' The magenta-eyed former patrol captain turns to fully face him as he speaks, explaining the situation evenly with a bit of humor. The boys catch up with steady strides, just in time. 

—"Long story-short, I'm still not done with my journey as Merlin, rather I...am taking a detour to regroup. Kind of. The enemies are an idea stronger than my team and I figured continuously bashing our heads wouldn't work, so the quest has been put on pause. However I got into bit of a squabble with my boss, aand she put a jinx on me." 

—"A jinx? Can you remove it?" –Lyca's younger twin brother pipes up, eying him with the same concerned look as the bow-woman is. Eironn joins in next, stony expression of dutiful stoicism betrayed by the poorly masked apprehension in his counter-tenor voice, already ready to leap into action. Bryon stays pensively muted, listening without rushing to speak up. No one bothers with the fact that the Arch mage is being a woman for today instead of a man like most of the time.

—"We can bring you to grannie Dahnie or grandpa Arden–They should know a way to lift or counter it." 

—"Exactly! We can come along with you, too!" 

Raising his hands in front of himself with a pained grimace, the spirit waves off their worries and fussing over him. All while holding back from opening his mouth to speak, not trusting himself not to blurt out something in the moment. Simply opts for signaling for the group to calm down. Finally feeling more confident, he goes on to elaborate on the matter, assuaging the Wilders' anxiety. 

—"It's nothing big–I'm okay, really! Bit inconvenient getting teleported randomly and having the impulse to run up to people and hug them, plus having a big mouth with no filter...But I can manage! ...somehow."

The four exchange looks, unsure whether to laugh–Lorsan appears to be struggling with holding back a snicker–or get even more worried about their 'faux Wilder' friend.

"But that's besides the point, anyway–She'll lift it off once I get back at the Mystical House. Should've calmed down by now." 

—"...I see." –Eventually Eironn mumbles after a long moment of pause to process the information. He still sounds reluctant, evidently voicing his companions' thoughts, getting a quiet affirmative 'mmhm.' from the much shorter male. Looking up at the horizon and the morning sun shining high, Pirin turns back to his rainforest crew with a nostalgic smile.

—"Well, I'm glad I got to see you again, my friends. I should get going." How's it that saying goodbye is so difficult now? It's Lyca who steps forth first, throwing her arms around him in a parting hug, tone a little saddened but tender as she speaks dutifully. Akin to a leader that has to make the tough call of letting go of someone dear. In a way...It is the case, for both of them. 

—"I understand. I wish you good luck on your journey, Vanya." Pulling back, she levels the incarnated star a half‐mock, half‐sincere stern look as she reminds him before letting go of his shoulders. "Don't forget to rest properly and take care of yourself, okay?" 

—"Dully noted. You too, you know?" The woman chuckles in response. His eyes flicker up at the towering stag Wilder when he takes his turn to bid farewell next, giving him a firm nod in acknowledgement. 

—"Take care, Ioan. May your travels be safe." For a second the blond pauses, as though unsure if he should keep it at that or not, before making his decision. "Don't hesitate to call upon us, should you find yourself in need of help. Even if only needing an ear and someone to talk to." 

—"Thank you, Eironn." 'The same goes for you, too.' goes unsaid but understood. The vampire's tone takes on a more lighthearted tinge as he adds on, earning himself a faint but amused smile from the graceful swordsman. "Although, I may see you again soon on the battlefield. We've still got some Dead Tide rascals to handle." 

"Dead Tide? Who are those?" 

"A fleet of pirates ruled by a Graveborn man named Hodgkin. We have an inside joke in the current team of calling him 'Davy Jones in undergarments'. It's a nod to a pirate story Pirin had told us about when we first arrived in Rustport, a coastal town in the Lightbearer Empire." 

"Darn it, I missed the adventure!" 

—"And a bigger pain in the bum than Cecia could ever hope to be." –He lazily slides in to 'helpfully' supplement, making Lorsan and Eironn glance at him. The former mildly baffled and clueless while the latter merely nods in agreement to his commentary. Finally Bryon takes his turn to offer his goodbye. 

—"Farewell, my friend. Do come back to visit when you can, you're always welcome in the Dark Forest." 

—"I will...Or, at least, I hope so. Otherwise I'll be sure to write a letter or two when things are a little less crazy." Lastly, Lorsan's turn came. Stepping forth, the bard stands before him with.. an uncharacteristically serious expression. No teasing or smug smirk, no swooping gestures or silly bravado. ...And then the hare Wilder extends a gloved hand.

There's a fond, proud look in his teal green eyes. Pirin takes the offered hand, and gives a firm brief shake with a fiery gleam. Defiance, refusal to fail or be defeated. 

—"Take care, Vanyo. May the wind guide you on your path. And stay true to your heart." The much leaner man mutely arches an eyebrow curiously with a fond smile but doesn't question aloud, not wanting to ruin the moment. Just where did this one come from? A moment of wisdom for the carefree Windwhisperer.  

—"I will. Thanks Lorsan." And with that, Pirin vanishes into thin air, teleported to the next destination. 

Meanwhile, back at the Mystical House— 

Three Hypogeans sit at one of the tables, each minding their own business, seemingly unbothered by how oddly quiet and empty the lounge is currently. No other patrons scuttle about, no chatter or utensil clatter, nothing.

Not that Phraesto or Reinier cared about any of that, actually enjoying this bland stillness and deafening quiet--The illusionist calmly and leisurely sipping away at the mint tea he was provided with a mild look of uninterested disdain but too lazy to get himself anything else. So he has simply resigned himself to this warm tasteless leaf water and puffing from that long smoking pipe of his, looking off at nothing in particular. Just look at the fool. There's not a single thought through that scorpion head!

Or maybe he's got high as a kite, off to.. nobody knows where, honestly.

Now Reinier? Ho ho ho, poor dorito-head is so busy obsessing over perfection and symmetry, that it's absolutely hilarious! 

For the twelfth time, the shadowy jester all too casually swaps the cups of the fine-china set, placing the green-ornamented one on the plate of the other cup that has green leaves and cherry blossoms on it. The symmetric sin once again fixes them up without a word, appearing composed. And of course, the mischief-maker promptly waits for a few seconds before deliberately messing up the 'balanced order' again to further annoy him. This time no immediate reaction followed from said perfectionist but the tense silence is a dead give away to his simmering irritation. Then Reinier moves the mismatched porcelain cups back on their appropriate saucers with one hand, his own cup of drink gingerly held in the other which leaves his secondary set of arms free.

Head resting in his hand and elbow propped on the table's edge, back comically slouched and legs crossed one of the other, Berial reaches out to yet again ruin the symmetry--However gets harshly slapped by his very miffed fellow Hypogean. 

—"Stop sullying the masterpiece, clown." 

—"Oh shut up, you bumbling neat-freak. It's just a tea set." -He retorts back at the other's vexed reprimanding hiss with an amused sly smirk, letting out a giggle when the four-armed perfectionist bristles at him.

—"It is not "just some tea set"! It is perfect, balanced, as it should be. Behold— the marvelous symmetry! Truly a most exquisite masterpiece! The very pinnacle of beauty." Berial merely brushes off the tirade, waving his free hand dismissively, spotted tail curled in his lap lazily but doesn't bother with messing up the set again. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Suit yourself, killjoy."

Reinier 'hmfs!' indignantly at his crass dismissal but doesn't argue further, content to gaze upon the 'masterpiece' with proud satisfaction and appraising its so called 'beauty'.

Looking around with a bored scoff, the sinister silhouette then glances over at the Magister and his two little hamsters seated on the sofa in the elevated alcove-like corner of the room. Grinning gleefully, he throws a side-glance over at the other two dark beings and slides in a quick snide jab Phraesto's way. 

—"At least I'm not a totally blundering buffoon like Stinger-head here. And I was hoping to see a good performance that day...tsk, pity." The ashen-skinned bulky illusionist glares at him from over the rim of his teacup. Pushing a little bit more, he proceeds to toss one more, not even trying to hide his sardonic mirth and quickly swaps the cups again.

"All that bark for nothing, really. I honestly thought you'd put up a fight instead letting yourself get resealed like that by a kid, Phraesto. So much for 'wanting freedom', eh?" 

—"You-! Get back here!" Berial vanishes off in a puff of smoke with a hearty cackle, suddenly reappearing next to the mage like a Jack-o-the box toy, startling the two rodents who jump back with a yelp. 

—"Aanyway~! I haven't see our delightful huffy bat all day today, Magister Merlin~." Merlin calmly flips to the next page of the book he's reading, completely indifferent to the talking head sitting in his lap and the decapitated body laying on its side on top of the sofa...curling around his head like a neck pillow, while Chippy shudders with a disgusted and mildly fearful grimace and Hammie frowns, hands on her hips disapprovingly.

"I was wondering where your little helper has gone? It's soo, woefully boring, and quiet here!" -He laments in a dramatically saddened sigh, head inching up and up on the page, obscuring the text as he does, staring at the mage without blinking with a wide gaping jagged grin. The feathery wings on his body flutter playfully and the tail swishes languidly, caressing the magister's neck under his chin.

Yup, being purposefully very creepy to rouse a reaction--Typical Berial. By now their foreheads are almost touching, left glowing pale purple orb leaking trails of 'tears' or 'blood' along with some of the substance dripping also out of his maw. 

A few moments of silence pass.

—"Done with your theatrics, Berial? I'm trying to read if you don't mind." And with this remark, Merlin grips the jester's head by the hair, and tosses it over his shoulder. Finishing up reading the page, he then adds nonchalantly, turning over to the next.

"He's teleporting around Esperia to revisit some points of his journey. I placed a spell to help him be less brooding, since he called me a pretentious coward." Oh- ho?  

Snickering, the performer slinks from around the mage like a snake, movements comically exaggerated and popping.

—"Now, now, I know you like to play games— But this is awfully devious of you, Merlin~! Color me impressed!" Makes the encounter at Mars Peak comically ironic, and so delectably potent with chaos, doesn't it? Looks like the Magister had already beat him to the nifty trick of being a 'faux Merlin' way ahead of time. 

—"He started it. Regardless, you should find him at Remnant Peak. It's the next stop of his free-hugs tour." My, my. You must truly be furious, disclosing his whereabouts so readily like this. Smirking down at the apathetic, almost bored-looking Merlin, Berial opens a portal underneath his feet and hops in. 

—"Hehehe-Don't mind if I do!~"

----------------------------------

To say he was confused upon finding himself standing at the Moon temple would be an understatement. Why is the spell following his destinations according to the chronological order of the adventures he had from day one to current point? 

Merlin, what's your goal here? 

At least the teleportation was much smoother this time around. Looking up at the marble pillars and vine-covered arches of the sanctuary's ruins, the buzzing hum of powerfully potent ancient energy lightly pulls at his attention. Turning to peer up at the central podium stage at the end of the two stairways of the temple, the Pallid covenant warily takes a tiny step forward as if mesmerized under hypnosis. This magic-it's... raw, pulsating and warm, greater than any he's seen, even his own. It's almost scorching and blinding as the very sun in its intensity, somewhere within it-A tranquil knowing smile of millennia-old wisdom, humbling and overwhelming. 

The threads... so bright and intricate.. 

Somehow, all his worries are gently eased away, like swept by a tide and left aside so very far. The purest form of magic, congealed into one being of authority. Warmth, soothing and light yet fond and sonorously harmonic swirls around his form like honey. An amicable, no, affable welcome- Beckoning to walk closer. The presence nearly makes him tear up, feeling simultaneously wary, weary, vulnerable and exposed, lost and at home- chocked. 

Stopping just shy of the left stairwell's first step, Pirin slowly bows his head on one knee and closes his eyes, hands pressed together with their backs as if in a form of prayer. A form of deep respectful reverence and greeting, hands forming a symbolic union of light and darkness- two opposites interwoven into cosmic balance. Life and death. Just as mother, grandma and many generations back have taught. No matter whether one agrees, likes, understands a deity or not- Respect should be shown in his or her presence. Even more so when being in that god or goddess's domain. 

—"Venus of Dawn."

A light chuckle rumbles in the god's chest, giving a shake of his head- dismissing the greeting. His presence drapes over the exhausted soul like placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

No need to be afraid. I harbor no ill intent. 

Ever since the very first day the incarnated spirit arrived on Esperia, brought from the beyond by Merlin, he knew of the child's presence. Along with all the misfortunes and sorrows that the weathered spirit had endured across his four previous lifetimes, each having left a gaping bitter mark etched upon him... As well as what fate has outlined for him for this current cycle and the many others after it. Though, knowing this soul has willfully chosen to hold the role of martyr or sacrifice to lead and aid those around him, does pique his fascinated curiosity. A path most thorned and not easy to walk... 

—"Please, no need for such formalities, Pirin." The phantom straightens out, thoughts and emotions flowing like a jittery melody. It can't be helped, it seems. Summoning his goblet of ambrosia, Dionel raises it in a toast. "Come, my friend. Partake with me."

Another goblet appears from thin air, taking on the form of a simple wooden cup with a wavy reddish line around the rim.

A sweet memory of home, the drink being ice-cold freshwater from a mountain spring. It floats over, settling in the young man's gloved hand as he carefully steps forth and climbs the stairs. 

Thank you, Dionel. The radiant god of banquets and indulgence simply settles comfortably, choosing to respond verbally to the star's thoughts. 

—"The pleasure is all mine. It has been quite some time since I last had company." Doubt and irritation swirl, the Celestial picking up on them with ease but doesn't rush his guest to speak. A brief moment of serene silence passes before Ioan voices what's on his mind, looking into the mug of water in his hands, grey owl-like brows creased into a confused pensive scowl. Ah, yes. The current predicament and the question that had been left hanging since their first encounter. 

—"I simply don't understand, why did the mage call out to me? What is it that made Merlin think of entrusting his role to me instead of carrying it himself?" 

—"You are viewing the journey as a dutiful burden. Perhaps it would be better to change the lens and consider it from a different angle of perspective?" The star looks up, unsure. The god of song and wine doesn't elaborate on his point, letting his words sink in and be processed, knowing the person in front of him is perceptive enough to catch on quickly. Instead he swirls the ambrosia in his hand, taking a slow sip and savoring it. I see your point. However I still firmly believe it wasn't supposed to be mine to begin with. Dionel only offers a patient, knowing and amused look in turn as he calmly refutes. Look closer, child of the Eclipse. You already hold the answers that you are looking for.

—"I- It was supposed to...? Wait, so I was supposed to become a node in his reincarnations??" Frustrated, stubbornly refusing to face the truth laid at his feet. Denial and fear of failing, letting down those who look up to him.

And fear of getting attached, and the inevitable loss of it all.

The fear of old tragedies repeating themselves anew lurking underneath. The lessons of forgiveness and embracing change being uncomfortable truths for him.

Yet, the experiences and connections borne from this journey in the pursuit of holding the world aloft have inevitably already long left their marks, helped the vex grow well into his role as 'Merlin'. A steadfast kindhearted leader whom holds peoples' hopes and dreams close, uniting them together while resolving crises with a clear mind and piercing through the fog of illusion. A hero.

Such was the Magister's goal from the start-To step back from his endlessly cyclical venture and recuperate, reflect before becoming faulty, loosing sight of the mission; While giving rise to 'newer blood', ushering a new perspective to help himself further improve as well alongside the new legend... And be reminded of his own lessons as well through his observations from the sidelines.

—"Indeed." 

An unwelcome presence emerges, causing the Celestial's lips to thin. What is that vile fiend doing here? 

—"Aww come on, don't give these looks! Where's the fun, the smiles, the joy? Why so serious?" 

—"Why, are you here, clown?" Berial makes a face as though wounded, sinking to one knee with a hand over his forehead, pretending to have been greatly saddened by the mercenary's sharp hiss. Only to fall into the ground and pop back out right in front of him, still feigning being a damsel in distress as he drapes himself over the shorter man's shoulders, wings dangling limply and tail swishing slowly.

However gets zero reaction from either--Pirin because he's not impressed by the bravado and Dionel due to not wanting to deign him with any. The light disapproving scowl of cold disdain is enough clue of the gallant Celestial's thoughts on the mouthy fool.  

Oh come on! Really?? Nothing at all? Spoilsports. 

—"So heartless.. You wound me, 'Merlin', truly." Turning to look at the deity, the impish demon grins wickedly as he hurls a callous jabbing remark his way. This provocation, too falls flat. "Dionel, old pal- What happened to my warm welcome? Aren't you the god of feasts and cheer, and I your guest?" Then the jester slithers towards his old-time foe, slowly tilting his head as if it would fall off his shadowy body, voice sweetly venomous and mocking. "Or am I not special enough to be invited, hmm? To have the same courtesy as the legendary V.I.P Magister?" 

—"I do not entertain the likes of you, Berial." -The Venus of Dawn utters flatly in an even tone, meeting the rapscallion's leer coolly. Doesn't give him the satisfaction of loosing his composure and snapping, no matter how much he's tempted to wring that insolent Hypogean's neck and fling him straight back to the abyss he crawled from after spearing him at least a thousand times. Still haven't forgotten those stunts the buffoon has had pulled off back in the ye olden days. And while back then Dionel would've loved to get back at the clown, now he knows much better than to fly into ire and charge blindly. That kind of action would only feed and encourage the imp. 

—"Berial, get to the point. Why did you come here?" The jester blinks, gleeful smirk not faltering as he turns his head three hundred and sixty degrees before slowly turning his body to align and bounces over back to Pirin. 

—"Why, a little tweety told me that you're giving free hugs! So I popped by to get mine, of course~! Bet you already gave one to Mr. Sloth drunk, hm?" 

 ... I'm going to snap Merlin's neck when I get back, consequences be damned. 

—"I didn't. And I'm not giving you one either, so get lost." Aww, but I'm on your team regularly! I thought we were buddies by now!   That's because you're useful for turning the battle in our favor. Not 'cause we're 'old pals'. 

—"So much for that free-hugs tour...Tsk, my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined. And here I was, looking forward to it. Alas, this clown gets no love today.. Pity." Taking off his top-hat and twirling it in the air, the Hypogean tosses it up and leaps off the ground to jump inside of the hat. "Well, I have places to be- Tooda-loo~! See you in the next match!" With that, the fiend is gone.

Looking back over to Dionel, the shorter pale man opens his mouth, but before he could say anything-

The spell activates. In a blink, Pirin vanishes into thin air, getting teleported to the next stop of the unintentional 'free hugs' tour throughout Esperia. 

--------

Is it just me, or is the teleportation much faster all of a sudden? —Tensing up as if hitting a bump in a road and sharply flaring his arms out, flailing a bit to maintain balance upon narrowly loosing it, he glances up at the skies. Clear deep blue still, the sun beginning its steady descent signaling afternoon is approaching...And it's beating down relentlessly with no remorse, the air vibrating with the unforgiving heat as a breeze kicks up some dust off the dry ground. Right back to square zero. 

Taking a step forward and squinting at the shifting sands, the felled star struggles to catch his breath and keep moving in search of a shade to cool off.

But every single step feels weighted down and limbs like lead, throat already parched and scratchy. It took a good three months to adapt to the harsh desert, time that isn't on hand now.

Who knows when the teleportation spell will kick in again? 

Wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and continuing to stubbornly push on ahead, the need for water starts to add up rapidly, body desperately screaming for some hydration to lower the temperature. The waypoint is so close yet so very out of reach. Just a little more... Stumbling a little, the snowy-haired vampire stops in his tracks, heaving for breath and hunched over with his hands gripping his knees firmly to keep grounded.

"This...constant...rapid change of climate, isn't doing me any favors..." -He mutters under his breath between panting and swallows before forcing himself to trudge onwards, still not out of determination to make it to the closest waystone just up ahead. The world starts to spin, vision blurring as nausea hits and making sense of his own thoughts starts to become increasingly difficult. Grimacing, he clutches at his head, barely making another step, knees going weak. A clear baritone voice calls from somewhere ahead, vaguely familiar—A figure of a bear-like Mauler approaching cautiously before moving bit more rapidly, as if jogging or sprinting to close the distance.  I...I think I might faint.. The world spins and goes out to black. 

Several minutes pass in silence and floating in the void, only somewhat aware of the distant voices conversing outside along with the shuffling of people. It's hard to make out a single word, but they do sound concerned or slightly anxious. It's less scorching in here, wherever that happens to be. Some more chattering, warm fuzzy clawed hands grip him by the scuff of his shirt then nimble footsteps, dragging his body along. A ringing feminine voice huffs, the young man replying back something which leads to a brief exchange between them until the bear relents, and the hand turns to two strong arms effortlessly hoisting him up. More dutiful quick steps accompanied by another set not far behind.

And then a very sudden cold sensation follows, water then getting sharply lifted up—

Startled at being plunged into the lake like this, Pirin's eyes snap open and he gasps for air, stiff as a plank, looking around with alarm and lingering disorientation. 

—"Soren!" -A very discontent, worried Alsa barks at her brother, making him look over his shoulder at her with a seemingly nonchalant 'what?' scowl. Putting her gauntleted hands on her hips indignantly, the blond pangolin-like young woman goes on to scold him for his callous approach to bringing their friend back to consciousness, scaly tail lowering from how it had straightened out like an exclamation mark.

"Don't dunk him in the water like this! We're trying to wake Pirin up, not drown him!" In truth, Soren was far from intending on drowning the frailer man or harming him in any way.

Problem is, unlike his foster younger sister, he's generally not one to be very gentle, steady or careful and patient to begin with—It only gets worse when he's panicked or agitated.

He had been intending to lower their comrade into the lake and hold him slightly submerged in the cool waters to help with the overheat problem, bring his temperature down...However was already worried upon first spotting the 'magister' while patrolling the clan's perimeter, then got more anxious when he saw Pirin swaying and unresponsive to his calls. The mage was out cold for fifteen minutes, going on twenty without any signs of stirring or coming back, and it made Soren's anxiety spike, fearing for the worst...and then panicked. Good thing Alsa managed to stay relatively composed and help keep him somewhat grounded. 

—"I'm not going to let him drown, Alsa. It's fine." Not one for admitting to such weakness, the ursine warrior attempts to play it off cool, act like it's nothing. When inwardly he cringes at his own poor reaction to the situation and equally poor choice of words, ears pinning back a little for a second before perking up and giving a slight twitch. One of them swivels in their friend's general direction. His sibling scowls disapprovingly up at him, and because of his stupid pride, Soren goes on to dig his grave even further. Silently kicks himself for it mentally, feeling guilty and bad for even saying those defensive words. A very indifferent 'See? Problem solved.' 

And right away, the secondary chieftain of the Uru tribe briefly tenses up as the pale magister moves like a spring in his arms, wrapping him into a tight hug. Partially out of surprise, and also of out of not wanting to accidentally drop the smaller man into the lake, grip tightening instinctively. Looking down at the fragile-looking fellow clutching onto him like a drowner and shivering, Soren blinks, completely flabbergasted and finally manages to find his voice. 

—"What's gotten to you?" Was the stroke that bad...? Probably not, his chalk-pale skin is still somewhat flushed and warmer than it should be but it's not burning or as red as a few moments ago. No sign of delirium either, looks perfectly sober. Coming to stand beside her older brother, Alsa peers down at their companion worriedly with a weak smile of relief on her round face, reaching out a small callous hand to touch his forehead. His temperature is getting back down to normal. That's good, thank the Dusk lord. It's a miracle you managed to recover so quickly. 

—"Are you alright, Vanya? How is your head? Are you nauseous?" Meanwhile Soren keeps up his usual stoic expression, hiding his lingering anxiousness behind a veneer of indifference and pretending to be unaffected. A nasty habit he still hasn't gotten rid of fully. However the furred young protector doesn't let go, a subtle clue of how shaken he is from this close call, russet-brown eyes looking over their friend's slim form for any injuries or other kinds of damage then relaxes a tiny bit at seeing none. Affirms to himself that, yes, Pirin is okay and no longer in grave peril. His own quiet and more subdued way of fussing over the delicate-appearing insomniac.

Memories of their adventures crawl their way up to his mind's eye and the tall Mauler can't help but feel a distant pang of odd nostalgia, a warmth. It was one hell of a ride from start to the very end—This outlander coming in on their clan's turf with two talking hamsters in tow, passing the three trials with his aid, be it more direct or less so at times, fighting Orson at Mars Peak and driving the fake Merlin away. Only to get slapped with three twists one after the other, that being the Merlin who had came to the desert was actually a Hypogean wearing his appearance and then Pirin's real identity...That truth in itself was a shocker and felt like a gut punch at first. The last secret was even more of a surprise, how the real Magister Merlin has chosen to stay cooped up in his home and send a double in his place. It stung. Eventually he, Alsa and their clan came to accept the blood-sucker as Merlin, as he proved himself to be well worth the title, as well as a trustworthy friend.  Suddenly it made sense as to why the man had been so insistent on being called by his name, or nickname, by them and the kids instead of 'Magister' or 'Merlin'. Sometimes they'd lark and call him 'Little finch' until the goofy nickname stuck, and became common.

As days and weeks blurred together, the little ghost became like a part of the Uru clan. Back then both Soren and Alsa, along with the other orphans had noticed how strangely nervous and fidgety he'd get aside from his general restlessness. However none of them could understand where that jitteriness comes from or why it seemed to get particularly bad around Soren specifically. As for the secondary clan chieftain himself, he had a small hunch but kept silent, figuring it's none of his business to pry and that the man would either explain sooner or later. Or not out of his own reasons.

Gradually that odd restlessness faded away, the inner conflict resolved.

It was on that night prior to leaving, that their friend pulled the two of them aside to the campfire once the kids were sound asleep in their respective tents. Turns out he had gotten a pretty strong crush on Soren the first day he had laid eyes on him, however constantly fought it off as their misadventures went on, not wanting to overstep or be even more of a nuisance.

The revelation left both siblings a bit surprised—Alsa more so than her brother who merely smiled in mild knowing amusement, hunch confirmed. Somewhere along the journey, that crush morphed into purely platonic and deeply familial love, viewing the warrior as a younger sibling and best friend just like Alsa and the clan. 

"Throughout this whole journey of playing Merlin, I didn't think I would ever find someone that I'd readily lay down my life for. Even less to find my second family in the middle of a desert, yet here I am." 

The primary chieftain had teared up with a sunny, joyful grin, restraining herself from hopping off the boulder bench and throwing her arms around the short man into a tight, warm hug. Soren, for his part only chuckled as he got up to head back— pausing to playfully pull him with an arm into a side-hug and ruffled his hair. Much like how he'd do with his other siblings. The sentiment very much being mutual. Even in present day, they and the Uru tribe got the albino's back and would jump in to fight tooth and claw without hesitation if it comes to it to protect him. "You mess with Ioan, and you'd be messing with the Uru clan.", as Alsa had proudly declared with a fiery determination. 

—"I'm.. an idea better, thank you." There's a strained smile on his face, and already both siblings could practically hear his next words. Something along the lines of 'I'm sorry for the trouble I caused you two.' or 'Sorry for worrying you.' So, before 'Merlin' opens his mouth to say those apologies and Alsa starts to dote on him, Soren decides to cut this topic short. Otherwise these two would waste half an hour exchanging pleasantries. Stepping out of the lake, he lowers the other man onto his feet and keeps a hand on his shoulder to steady him. And also prevent him from falling in case Vanya looses his balance.

—"Can you walk?" -The clan defender cuts to the point, disentangling and lightly pushing the vampire from himself.

As much as he's fine with hugs and being on the receiving end of affectionate gestures, right now isn't the time for such things.

Safety and ensuring their friend's well-being is top priority, namely preventing another heatstroke and helping with his recovery from the one he has had not too long ago.

Some of the kids look on from the sidelines with apprehensive eyes, some tentative to approach and wanting to help out as well but fear they'd more likely get in the way, and others have begun to hesitantly come over. Most get relieved and calm down when their big sister explains what happened and that their second big brother is much better now, but still needs to recover a little more. Blinking, another apology bubbles up his throat however holds it back and offers a simple, albeit slightly uncertain, answer instead. 

—"I think so, yes." Nodding in satisfaction, the second in command hums a short 'Good.' and begins to head back towards the tents, ushering the other along. Alsa soon rejoins them, only to get pulled into a hug as well. Seriously, what's going on with him today? Not that either of them mind it, it's just rather out of left field.

A look of surprise crosses the short-haired Mauler's features, which quickly turns into her iconic bright, warm grin of happy affection as she hugs back right away with a bone-crushing grip and a fond 'Aww!'

Shaking his head at the two of them with a mildly mirthful smile of reserved fondness, the bear-like toned man gently break up their group cuddling, keeping things on track, much calmer now. 

—"Alright, let's get to the tents first. Come on." Alsa quickly lets go, and Pirin flashes him another sheepish smile as he falls in-step with the two of them. It doesn't take long for the upbeat tribeswoman to begin buzzing in their guest's ear, chattering away excitedly about whatever came to mind— What she and some of the children had found yesterday while foraging, the visit they got from Brutus some days ago, filling him in on how the clan has been faring these days, talking about much her brother's cooking has improved (it really hasn't.) and how she managed to get him to sing once again. Despite knowing very well Soren's crowing sounds far more like a fierce war-cry than anything remotely close to actual singing.

It's how it sounded the first time around, and it's not about to change anytime soon for sure. But she still praises it anyways.

—"It still sounds a little intimidating, but it's getting better!"  —"Wait, really?" —"Yes! It's so much better than it was the first time I asked him!" At this Soren snorts. 

—"It's still the same, don't listen to my sister. A vulture grunts more sonorously than I do."  

Reaching the tents, the three of them settle down, picking Soren's due to Alsa's allegedly being bit of a mess and smaller. It honestly didn't matter as it's only her and the Pallid covenant who sat down on the cot, the fighter preferring to stay standing, not one for sitting down. Also in case he needs to fetch something or move around. It's then that the clan's primary chieftain realizes that the shorter man is still in heavy need of hydration, jumping to her feet as if stung and darts off, putting their catching up lively conversation on-hold with a chirped "I'll go get you some water! Be right back!"

Before the vex could protest, she's already a few steps ahead, leaving him to stare after her with a sigh. It's just how Alsa is— Ever the dotting, attentive mother hen of the clan or any group she's in. Fussing over everyone and making sure nobody is left out, falls behind or is left uncomfortable and neglected, doing all of the chores and work while insisting everyone else to sit back and relax. Even more so when it comes to visitors. 

—"It's been a long time since I last came to the desert.. I guess my body has forgotten how to deal with the heat here." -His mutter is humorous and vaguely nostalgic as he sweeps his eyes over the oasis with a soft smile, watching the clan's younglings play together or hang out while the more solitary ones wander about and keep some distance from their peers.

Glancing up at his friend, Pirin's tone turns teasing as if joking. However the dark-brown furred leader knows far better, catching onto the half-serious edge. Even long after their escapades, he's still been traveling with him frequently enough to know the other pretty well by now; what with being pretty much a near permanent member of the team besides that sassy, big-mouthed knight from Holistone and the Graveborn earl kid with the flowers along with the crafty sailor from Rustport.

Ask him or any of the other three, and you'd get a fairly long spot-on list of traits that their 'magister' has. Or, what some scholars like to call a 'psychological analysis profile'.  

—"Think I can make myself adapt quicker by getting more exposure?" The idea of deliberately standing out in the sun without a drop of water multiple times a day makes Soren scoff, making his thoughts on it evident. Shooting the nocturnal humanoid a stern look of warning, arms crossed over his chest and ears pinning back.

Sometimes, he really wonders just how does this fool's brain work-or doesn't- to come up with conclusions like this one. And many similar ones, each more reckless than the last without a single thought spared about his own safety or health and life.

...With how unpredictable the man tends to be, as well as being heavily inclined to charge right into trouble without warning, every one of the team members had very quickly learnt to keep a close eye on him and to always have at least one of them by his side. 

Don't even think about trying.

—"How about you don't push your luck for once, yeah?" Pirin gives a small humorless laugh, looking guilty as charged. 

—"Kidding, kidding. I'm not going to pull that kind of stunt." Soren however, wasn't amused nor falling for this. That's what you said the last time. 

—"Right. Sure. Whatever you say, Vanyusha." -The nickname makes one of the magister's brows twitch slightly at the corner, a tick of irritation. -"Ludovic sent me a letter two days ago, saying he won't able to make it for our next match." A pause, the gears turning in that pretty head then realization clicks in and a look of astonished surprise flashes across his delicate features, gasping.

—"Noo. Hang on, so you four write to each other to make sure I'm not alone??" Looks like it's Pirin's turn to be befuddled, scowling and fidgets with the hems of his sleeves.  —"Mhm." A frown, the bear meeting it calmly with a faint innocent smirk as he hums. Blinking twice rapidly, the albino 'false Mauler' balks, sputtering in disbelief, earning a nonchalant shrug.  —"Oh come on! I'm not that reckless! I can handle myself."  —"You brought this onto yourself, Little finch. Did you forget the last time you almost died, picking a fight with a group of fishfolk all by yourself? Or when you charged in at some Claws and narrowly got fatally hurt?"

To name a few. 

—"I-" Soon enough the pangolin-like Mauler returns with three bowls, one in each hand and the last one balanced on her head. Whatever attempts at refuting his argument Merlin was about to make die down and he gives up.

—"I'm back! Here you go!" 

Taking the offered bowl of water from her hand, he tips his head in a nod and drinks up, downing it in one go then hands the bowl back to her. Alsa gives him a slightly worried look, taking the empty wooden bowl when he shakes his head at her unspoken question of whether to go get him more. Reluctantly, the woman moves to sit down on the ground with her own bowl. Soren quietly takes his own bowl after finally relenting and sitting down himself next to her, eyes turned to his own meal whilst keeping track of the conversation, ears swiveling and twitching once or twice at times. 

—"I'll probably get teleported to Rustport any moment, but thanks for the water anyhow."  —"Teleported?" The bear-like Mauler's ears twitch twice. 'Huh?' 

—"Okay, I'll keep this short: Merlin put a silly spell on me that teleports me to the places I've visited prior along my journey, and gives me the impulse of hugging people. Also makes me be fully honest and say things I'd rather keep to myself."

Alsa frowns, bewildered and Soren pauses eating to look up, his ears moving back slightly. Both Maulers aren't very happy with the Magister's actions, and uneasy regarding the spell's effects. Reassuring smile playing on his lips, Pirin lifts his hands to brush off the siblings' apprehension, tone light.

"Don't worry, it's nothing that puts me at risk. It'll get lifted when I get back from my 'tour'."

After throwing that piece of helpful intel, the substitute looks down at his palms as he mumbles under his breath in a lamenting whine. "I really hate repeating myself like a parrot.. At least I'll have to say it one last time." 

A tug pulls him out of his musings and he smiles apologetically yet again, then hurries to get his thoughts out before it's too late. 

—"Anyway, very glad I got to see you and the kids again, thanks for hospitality— Sorry for dropping unannounced and the troubles! May try to visit again with no spell but no promises, will try to write you letters. Glad to be home for moment, love you, see you—" 

Pirin disappears into thin air, leaving the two oldest orphans in the tribe of adopted misfits to stare at where he sat seconds ago. It took them a good several moments to figure out what he said. 

---------------------

All it took to find himself standing next to the waypoint crystal in Rustport, was a blink. The waves below this rundown poor coastal town merrily singing their song underneath the gloomy evening skies and salty breeze are a welcome change. What wasn't a nice shift, however, is the equally unforgiving humidity with the added fishy stench that simply follows around practically everywhere.

Immediately, Pirin feels a little light-headed again and overwhelmed- not by another heatstroke, but by sheer sensory overload. The screeching of the gulls overhead, the pungent stink of sewers, decay and not properly washed people, the bustle of the streets--All cranked to a thousand in his ears. The one glaringly massive downside to having a nose and hearing keener than a hunting hound's. Other than that, in a way, this rowdy crime-rife harsh sailors' town is just as stunningly beautiful as any other place on Esperia. 

Ridiculous. I spend a day and a half in more peaceful environments, and now I'm overloaded.

..I guess, that's more than enough. 

"Oohkay, let's get this silly tour done with." -He mumbles to himself under his breath, already feeling that familiar tug dragging him off to the next target on its hugging agenda.

Without a second's hesitation, his feet begin to briskly shuffle ahead and the felled star doesn't even bother with trying to resist. The legs will go wherever they want to go. Weaving through the dirty cobblestone roads and past the elevator leading to Rustport's upper district, within a few moments the town's gates come into view.

Raising his brows questioningly at the spell's pull, Pirin inwardly groans, already knowing where it leads—To Brineville. To Sinbad. 

Oof course it's him. Why did I think I'd go looking for Sonja, Lucca, Nara, or Hugin?

...Hang on a moment.

Aren't they also my allies at least? I mean, I wouldn't go as far as classifying the Carmine Whispers' leader or her guard as a friend per se..but she was a consistent ally. Also Lucca. 

Isn't that how Merlin's dumb little hex works? Yanking him around like a ragdoll to friends and family, both old and new to give them a big ol' warm hug? Oh wait, right—crushes count too. 

The hoodoo follows his heart, not who the mind deems close or as an aide.

A displeased glower curls onto his face. 

The Carmine Whispers didn't so much as grip his heart or interest, merely got tagged as 'cooperators, for now' by his brain and that was that; nothing changed those inner stances, not even witnessing the gang-woman's pains and learning of her tragedies. Same goes for her sister. For all intents and purposes, Nara only got chalked up as a loose cannon to be wary around in his mind.

As for Hugin, the engineer got pretty close to crossing off from 'ally' to 'friend', surprisingly, but still didn't quite get there by the time his adventures ended. Unlike how Alsa, Soren and their clan or Valen and Sinbad pretty much instantly yanked his heart akin to how kindred spirits would. Nevermind that three of these people have attitude, mindset and interests that are completely opposite of his own.  On a spectrum from closest to farthest to him in terms  of personalities, Soren is the most closest with Valen and Sinbad being a little further and Alsa standing on other end.  

Well, the heart sure works in strange ways. And it's so, so very greedy lately.

The clattering, humming and buzzing of Rustport soon give way to the soft sounds of natural wildlife, lanes and pavements traded for muddy pebbled pathways and damp grass. Too bad the stupid spell isn't letting up. With each step along the downtrodden trail sneaking through the dense jungle- like forest, the uncomfortable feeling grows more persistent. It's getting late, and here he is, beelining for the village like some intruder. Try with all his might to will his legs to stop or turn back, Pirin is only met with failure as Merlin's jinx keeps dragging him along without regard or remorse. 

What am I even supposed to say? 'Hey so, I know it's late but I just really had to come over here and give your son a hug. I promise I'm not crazy!'

Tch, as if this kind of nonsense would work. 

A jolt runs through the vampire like a sharp electric shock, similar to how it did upon hearing the Solitaire's voice back in Southville, and his marching strides break into a full-on sprint.

The modest small widows' village comes into view and a very familiar tall blond with it. It seems that the sailor is headed there to check on his mothers and give them what 'haul' he had scrounged up during the day's hustle. 

No, no, no, no- Wait! 

——Two cold arms wrap around his waist with a tightly squeezing embrace, making the swindler's heart leap into his chest and hammer as a strong bout of roaring adrenaline sharply flares. Out of knee-jerk impulse, Sinbad quickly reaches a hand for one of his daggers and prepares to throw a hard kick at the person glued to his back like a post stamp. Or elbow the man and give a nasty punch, anything to break free and fight back—barely stopping himself right on time as the stranger spoke in a soft breathlessly faint tenor that he'd recognize anywhere.

More like frantically yelped 'Friend! Friend! Sorry!', grip tightening in tension instinctively. Good god, a warning would've been really nice! Exhaling a huff as his racing heartbeat calms closer to normal, his squared shoulders drop.

Looking down at his pale friend peering up back at him somewhat shyly, the scarred street-rat's face lights up with a mildly confused but otherwise pleasantly surprised smile— Happy to see him again. Even though he chides the little ghost for scaring him half to death by sneaking up like this out of nowhere, earning himself a guilty look in return.

—"By Tritonus, Pirin! Don't scare me like this! I thought I'm being ambushed by a Wight, or some other thug." An apologetic hum greets him in response, the latter looking down almost like a kicked puppy, murmuring another 'Sorry..' barely above a whisper. Something feels off.

Initial spook fully worn off, the tanned orphan's smile falters, quickly noticing the mildly flushed, clammy skin and how it's warmer than it should be. What did you get yourself into this time, Vanyo..?  

Scratching the back of his head with a hand, the outlaw disentangles from the hug and turns to properly face the doll-like leaner man, brushing off his apology as he gives him a brief cursory look for any other signs of damage.

—"Nah, it's fine. You caught me off-guard, that's all." Pirin winces as Sinbad places a hand on his forehead, getting a little annoyed at being fussed over like a kid and being worried over. "You seem to be running a fever.. I'm no doctor, but it might be a good idea to get you some medicine before this gets bad. How's your stomach, does it hurt? Any leg cramps or nausea?" 

I understand that they're my friends and care about me and all, but seriously! 

—"Sinbad, I'm okay! You don't have to worry about me." -He mutters sourly with a light scowl, pushing the hand away akin to how a cat would paw or swat irritably. "I don't have salmonella, or cholera, there's no need to rush back in town for medicine." 

Great, now I feel like a jerk. 

It's not like the man doesn't have a reason to arrive at the assumption given how often he's seen him jump down in the sewers both during and after their adventures.

First time was to nab the treasures hidden in there and clear out the enemies lurking, second time was when him, Lucca and Sonja discovered the secret passage leading to the Carmine Whispers' base themselves while he had already gone through it, and the third time was to chase down the Don. Gods know what kind of bacteria are in that putrid sewage and anything else nasty, disease-inducing as well. Sighing and playing with the hem of his sleeve, Pirin goes on to elaborate, a bad taste in his mouth at the small outburst he just had.  

—"Look, Merlin and I got into a disagreement which led to the Magister putting a hex on me. And, well, it teleports me around the places I've visited previously during my journey—one of them being a desert. So I got a heatstroke and recovered for the most part but not entirely, hence why my skin is still far warmer than it should be, red as a crab and clammy." 

—"You had a stroke?" And I thought I'm a trouble-magnet!  —"It's not as bad now! I swear I didn't purposefully sit out in the sun!"

Sinbad crosses his arms with a pick in his mouth, clearly not believing his words.

"Okay, I know I've been rather reckless these past few months by charging into scuffles and running in circles around the rhinos near Century Forge. Sure, fine. But I won't deliberately cause myself a heatstroke for no reason. I'm not a masochist."

The scruffy sailor still appears unconvinced but lets the matter slide, letting his arms drop to his sides and rest on his hips as Pirin clears his throat awkwardly. Steering the conversation back to the main point, the magister's stand-in hurriedly moves on to elaborate on the spell; All the while unknowingly waving around his hands and fidgeting with anything that comes briefly into his grasp, physically restraining himself from going for another hug or potential cuddling session and blurting out his thoughts.

All tale-tell signs of being nervous, the look of self-conscious guilt and rapidly reddening face adding to it. Namely, what he's currently doing- One hand gingerly fiddling with the V-line collar of his shirt and lightly digging at the ground with a foot like how a horse would paw, looking off in a direction in their surroundings. A 'gesture' which Sinbad learnt means something like 'Wanna go for a walk?'  Kind of cute. The broke mercenary hums a simple ''mhm.'' as in 'sure', nodding along as his companion carried on speaking so to say 'I'm listening.' without interrupting.

And so they go on to saunter down the muddy path leading to the broken pier at the beach with Pirin walking at a semi-brisk gait while he easily keeps up in-step by his side. Not that the usually quiet mage notices, too caught up chattering. 

—"Anyway, the jinx also makes me impulsively run up to people and hug them, ergo the 'surprise attack' I gave you. At least Rustport is my last stop and this 'free hugs trip' is finally over with. I'm...trying not to yap a lot, although I can't seem to shut my trap, likely another effect of Merlin's spell besides being fully honest." A small, awkward chuckle. "Най-вероятно и като нищо звуча като дървен философ в момента."

Glancing skyward, the seaside savant calmly slides in a response to the comment's last part a bit absently with a slightly tired lilt to his smooth countertenor voice, mind jumping between a thousand different things in the background. Planning out for tomorrow- what potential escape routes to take if things go south and the state of the two 'job' markets, potential clients and actual jobs he can snag- mapping out scenarios...While also currently listening to the shorter man with half-an ear. 

—"You do, yeah. Both actually. No offense." It's not like he doesn't like chatting with the 'magister' or isn't excited to see him again, on the contrary. It's just that today had been particularly long and stressful, and he was sort of on his way home to check on his mothers then crash to get some beauty sleep. So, kind of being low-energy right now. Nothing personal. Eyelids feeling heavy and drooping, Sinbad yawns, covering his mouth with a hand but keeps his casual laid-back smirk intact. The way Pirin winces at noticing his off-key demeanor doesn't elude him, or the self-criticizing assumptions that practically flash across his forehead in massive bold screaming letters.

None of which are correct, by the way.

Naturally, he doesn't say any of them aloud but it's plain as day. Unlike Soren, who doesn't get subtleties and can't read between the lines or read others very well, he can.   Looping an arm around Ioan's narrow boney shoulders, he casually pulls the other into a loose side-hug and jovially taps- or more like pokes- his temple. A show of affection, light playfulness and simply larking with him. 

—"You know I can practically hear your thoughts, right Lark?" The nocturnal critter blinks up at him blankly as if stumped. Both at the offhanded comment and the nickname. On one of the more rainy days, he and the team had ducked into a 'heart-to-heart' corner near the Golden guest. Pirin had hardly noticed when he'd started to hum, then softly whistle, then quietly sing in his native. Until everyone piped down and remained quiet, listening to the last fading notes of his merry tune. Thus the nickname 'lark' sprung. And the team has been mostly using it since, switching it up with 'Little finch' here and there. A silly nickname Soren had coined up due to how "tiny and constantly startled" he is, flitting to and fro.

—"..I wasn't thinking aloud, was I?" 

—"Nope, but you're not being very subtle either." A faint 'ow' escapes from Ioan when he claps him on the shoulder, a short glimpse of a silly, flashy bravado that eases off once again as he explains his current condition. "Let me remind you that you're not an annoying burden on anyone, me included. I'm just tired and today has been rather hectic. This is why I'm not as upbeat or lively like usual. Alright? It's nothing personal."

Still not fully convinced and hesitant, however the flash of relief is a good sign. Thoroughly red-faced, the 'ghost' hurries to look away and holds back an apology, suddenly very shy again. What slips from his lips catches Sinbad by surprise- hardly above a mutter but it's there. And he heard it clearly. No doubt one of the things that Pirin would rather prefer to keep to himself, judging how he immediately tenses up and short-circuits the second he realizes he let that one tumble out like this. Huh. This explains the restlessness recently. 

—"I've gotten rather greedy these days. I've been having this crush on Val for a fortnight now or two, and then I go and develop this dumb crush on you the first day we meet. Worst part is that neither fizzled away at all! It only gets worse. ...Oh no." Guess I'm having competition then. 

"Forget I said anything. Ignore all this, it's gibberish." Sinbad blinks, casting his companion a side-glance, burly eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. A few seconds pass as his mind works to process said 'gibberish', giving the words attention rather than letting them mostly slip right out the other ear after registering like he's been doing for the duration of their friendly talk. 

A slow, teasing smile curls at the corners of his mouth, his grip around the 'finch' tightens ever so slightly, enough to keep Pirin from bolting off. Poor lad freezes up and goes redder than a ripe tomato. Doesn't even notice when or how he veered them towards a nearby palm-tree and pinned him against it loosely, one hand propped on his hip and the other leaned on the trunk over Pirin's head.  

—"Really? Didn't think you had it in you. And here I was, assuming you're just restless by default." Jesting, charmingly affable teasing tone as though shrugging the confession off. Larking in good nature, of course. It's all in good fun.

"So, me and Valen, eh? I'm curious as to which one of us you would pick in the end. The charming knight in shining armor who makes you swoon..." -His voice drops to a seductively low note that still playfully toes the fine precipice of light-hearted chaffing. Creates suspense to keep him on-edge, left to guess his intentions.

"Or would you rather get swept off your feet by this rowdy seadog?" Pirin's breath hitches in his throat, pearly eyes wide as saucers in obvious shocked, disbelieving surprise, heart doing a somersault and a skip.

A part of him knows that the roughish, hardy sailor is only merely pulling his leg and fanning the flames, toying with him to rouse a reaction.

Nothing will come out of it.

But that rational conclusion doesn't stop his heart from hammering like a hummingbird's wings or to squeak "Please do." quietly regardless. Shaking his head to shoo away the stupid fluttering, Pirin puts on a frown of half-hearted annoyance which fails miserably as he backpedals and pushes at his friend's shoulders, looking off to the waves lapping at the coarse beach. "I mean don't. Don't do that."

—"Aannywho, that pretty much wraps my tour-Gotta mousy, soo, see you--" With this sheepish, nervous small laugh and a strained smile, he looks back at the dust-blond seawolf and attempts to slip away out of his grasp like a ferret. Deeming the encounter over, and so out of his depth. Unfortunately the ice-cold hermit doesn't manage to get far, barely a meter, before a hand easily catches him by the scruff of his tailcoat and halts his steps. The tactical retreat has failed spectacularly. 

Where's that bloody hex when I need it??  Why isn't this surprising in the least. The one time the teleporting jinx can be actually useful, it refuses to kick in or stalls horribly. Makes one wonder if this was also a part of Merlin's little scheme all along. It tugs him back, careful not to strangle, his back lightly hitting against the other's chest. That light-hearted lilt of near sing-song mischief is no good. 

—"No, no, hang on. You're not slipping away so easily." Once again Pirin wrestles to compose himself and play it cool, stubbornly refusing to so much as entertain the idea. 

—"You're not into men anyways." -He huffs with a mild scoff, desperately fighting to not react to the shrugging, half-joking remark Sinbad offers him back readily. The memory of when the two of them are sneaking in to infiltrate the Water Wights' camp with Sonja, after disguising as fellow guards resurfaces in his mind's eye like smoke plumes. When bribing that last guard with his favorite fish and the crafty street-rat had effortlessly diverted the goon's attention by waving his suspicious questions off with a made-up story of how they had a round or two of drinks at the tavern in the company of pretty women. He's not interested. How troublesome to have this crush.. 

—"Well, about that. Haven't fooled around to find out yet, so I wouldn't know. We could try, though. And you do pass off as a woman, if someone squints a wee bit. A win-win if you will." Come on, he's just messing with you. 

The 'little finch' gives a wry chuckle then retorts back easily, almost as though challenging in a way, keeping matters anchored within the circle of witty and humorous banter. 'Cause that's all there is to it. 

—"Please. No, I don't. I'm as much of a lassie as you're serious with this." Immediately, a jolt of regret stabs at realizing the sailor wouldn't back down, now that he's been thrown the gauntlet. And boy doesn't Sinbad bite back. Sinbad's tone of voice turns cheekily flirtatious, smidge more daring and bold as he deliberately turns the doll-like shorter man to fully face him, chest to chest, rum-hued gaze holding a gleam of mischief.

In fact, he goes on to up the stakes, placing a tanned hand at the back of Pirin's head and leans in slightly. Throws the ball right back in his court, giving as good as he gets without so much as a hesitance. 

—"And what if I happen to be?" ...I'm cooked. The notion causes his heart to flutter, a sense of excitement and giddiness swirling but he stamps it down in favor of clinging onto denial. 

—"Sinbad, quit bluffing with me." -Is what the mage huffs out in lieu of an answer to the challenge with a stern pout, the no filter honesty having at long last worn off. Once again Pirin is back to his usually composed, somber, steely and aloof quiet self, keeping a card or three close to his chest and six more in his sleeves. Recognizing this shift as his cue to step down, the blond young man pulls back, his embrace mellowing to a loose hug. Then lets go, smirk easing up back to one of plain laid-back friendliness. Although his eyes still hold the lingering embers of vivacious and daring teasing, the flirt is relatively toned down to almost zero that's well within affable territory. And besides, the magister's disgruntled hiss wasn't a flat-out rejection but more of a diversion than anything else. Which leaves the door open to possibilities. 

—"Fine, fine. I gotcha." -He concedes, raising his hands in placating mock-surrender before letting them drop at his sides. Looking after Pirin's retreating form as the vampire begins to stalk off towards the waypoint crystal in Brineville, Sinbad gives a few moments of quiet before following suit up the path. 

Standing in front of the gloomy purple glassy stone, Pirin reaches out a hand and takes a step forward.

—"Vanya."

He pauses and turns to look over his shoulder as the rascal's voice calls out to him. The smile in it is clear.  Yep. Merlin was right to call you a punk. It feels like time comes at a stand-still, the world and everything else along with it falling into the background. Just two friends and brothers in arms standing face to face at a small distance. The adventures had ended as quickly as they had started, passed in a whirlwind blur of events, and yet they had still become each other's most trusted confidant. How funny that is.. It's almost like we beat Hodgkin and solved the crisis plaguing Rustport only yesterday. This one definitely feels much shorter than the mishaps in the Ashen Wastes. Or was I so tunnel-visioned on getting the job done that I didn't notice time go by? 

"If you change your mind, let me know. Drinks will be on me." -The disheveled sailor half-jokes with a wink and that iconic snazzy smirk of his. 

—"Don't make promises you can't keep, my friend. I already know that I'll be the one paying the tab next time we go to a tavern." Like always, given how poor ole Sinbad is always perpetually moneyless. 

Said man gives him a lighthearted 'you know me too well' look with a small chuckle and the two of the bid each other goodbye. 

Touching the stone, Pirin vanishes. 

----------------------------------------------------------------

Here is a translation for the word(s) and sentences/phrases in bulgarian that Pirin didn't translate: -> Диване – Rascal. It can also be used as in 'fool' or for a naïve person. However I used it here more in the context of Merlin doing or saying nonsense. -> Дървен философ - Someone who is only bark and no bite, or just talks empty words while sounding 'profound' or 'deep'. What Pirin mean with it is something along the latter, or like endless yapping. -> Най-вероятно и като нищо звуча като дървен философ в момента. - I'm probably also sounding like saying empty words right now.

[cyybrzz]

To anyone who sees this and does musical theater...

I need advice... again. this time it's a theater thing for all my musical theater performers out there who wanna help a girl out 😔🙏

🔮 I'm having an internal crisis.

So i've been into musicals for FOREVER and I love singing songs at karaoke and getting into character and stuff whatever THE POINT IS recently i've been considering actually trying out for a musical?? the last time i didn't theater was elementary school if that counts and i've never been apart of a choir so no i can't read sheet music or know what it means sos the closest i've gotten is orchestra. I'm just nervous because i've never done THEATER before and i would have no idea how to prepare and i feel like id make myself look stupid at any auditions if i did; now im here on tumblr again asking for advice!!

🔮 *googles how to get my voice to work*

i don't think i'm a BAD singer but i'm not anything out of this world, i think i'm anywhere from an alto to a mezzo-soprano?? (my most comfortable songs to sing are JD's songs from heathers or ngrom from waitress, i can also sing from like deja vu to 505 if that helps to any music nerds anywhere! thanks) anyway i don't even know my voice range and whether im a good singer; also i think that 99% of the time im singing with my head voice and idk how to belt or sing with chest voice so if anyone has any vocal advice on how to sing better and warmup my voice for stuff like this it'd be greatly appreciated i'm literally clueless when it comes to singing so if you think any piece of advice is stupid and common knowledge it's probably not for me and i'll gladly take it

🔮 fake it til you make it??

I DONT KNOW IF IM A GOOD ACTRESS EITHER UGH i don't really get stage fright bc i do multiple sports/activities that require me being in front of an audience i just don't want to look stupid 😓💔 I can memorize lines and stuff like that it's just the performance aspect in worried about so if anyone has tips on how to scope out my acting ability or how to improve it reach out please i #needthat

🔮 auditions exist... unfortunately

uhm how do auditions work bc i don't wanna embarrass myself if i even decide to go for it bc what if i make a fool of myself and ill have to fall off the face of the earth and no one will be able to see me again? what if i mess up at auditions and they think im terrible? what if i don't mess up and they still think im terrible? it's so scary as a newbie someone please sos

🔮 do i even go for it?

with all these issues and roadblocks do i even try to go for it... i have a friend that does theater and i'm scared they'll judge me if i mention trying out for it 😭 the urge to try theater again (kinda) has been so strong lately and me being watching musicals and singing songs doesn't help! please be brutally honest i need it, toodles!

[black-arcana]

A beginner’s guide to symphonic metal in 5 albums

Few genres do grandiose like symphonic metal. As the name suggests, it marries the scope and ambition of classical music to the power of metal. The result is orchestral, opulent and sometimes OTT, but it’s a hard heart that is completely resistant to it.

The seeds of the sound were sown in the 80s, when diverse trailblazers such as Celtic Frost and Savatage began incorporating orchestral instruments into their music. But it began to accelerate in the late 1990s, with bands such as Therion, Nightwish, Within Temptation and cult favourites Haggard began to properly fuse the two genres.

Today, symphonic metal has become an unlikely commercial force. Nightwish and Within Temptation are festival headliners, while a constant stream of newer bands have emerged in their wake. For anyone who is new to this grandest of genres, these are the five albums to start with.   

Therion – Secret Of The Runes (2001)

Therion remain the original and – the purists would have you believe – the best of all the symphonic metal acts. Named in honour of Celtic Frost’s second album To Mega Therion, the Swedes have been led by multi-instrumentalist Christofer Johnsson since 1987. While others have prospered by ‘sexing-up’ the genre’s principles, the Therion experience remains a pure one – sackcloth and ashes, almost. Take our word, it’s a beautiful thing.

After Forever – Decipher (2001)

The second album from this pioneering and much-missed Dutch outfit, who ran from 1995 to 2009, Decipher employed live classical instruments and a full choir to complement the stirring soprano delivery of Floor Jansen (now, of course, with Nightwish). Soon afterwards Mark Jansen quit, taking his growled co-vocals along to the guitarist’s next band of note, Epica. The album’s grandiose arrangements still sound masterful today.

Within Temptation – The Silent Force (2004)

Although you’re likely to be distracted by the captivating strength of Sharon den Adel’s upfront vocal dynamism, Within Temptation’s symphonic aspirations reached their most querulously romantic apex on this goosebump-inducing masterwork of the form. Although the guitars were louder and crunchier than on 2000’s Mother Earth, and the open- hearted pop savvy was at full widescreen pelt, this 2004 follow-up confirmed the band’s special affinity for wizardly orchestral bombast, here performed by the Ego Works Session Orchestra, under the noted Russian conductor Felix Korobov.

Epica – The Quantum Enigma (2014)

Formed by former After Forever guitarist Mark Jansen, Epica played a crucial part in the development of symphonic metal via a string of consistently impressive releases, but with The Quantum Enigma – their sixth studio record – the Dutch band raised the bar to a whole different level, hiring a live chamber choir and a string orchestra to enhance a collection of tunes that is uniformly strong. Throw in the soaring vocals of flame-haired mezzo-soprano  Simone Simons and the results are seismic.

Nightwish – Endless Forms Most Beautiful (2015)

You could pick anything from 2000’s Wishmaster onwards, but the Finns’ first album with Floor Jansen represents Peak Nightwish in terms of a grandiosity. A high-concept exploration of evolutionary science, featuring narration from scientist Richard Dawkins, it’s an absolute triumph. From the full-pelt throttle of Shudder Before The Beautiful and cinematic bombast of Weak Fantasy to the  life affirming anthemia of Alpenglow, it’s a constant stream of brilliance. Then there’s The Greatest Show On Earth, a 25-minute show-stopper most bands could only dream of writing. It’s no surprise this was the record that turned Nightwish into festival and arena headliners.

[boysplanetrecaps]

Build Up Episode 1: Don’t Go

Hello and welcome back to my Build Up recaps! In the last one, we covered the first two “Pre-4” Mission performances -- If You and Every Moment of You. In this post, we’ll cover Don’t Go (Kajima) and wrap up episode 1, finally!

I found some decent links to watch the episodes. 

Episode 1

Episode 2

I’m deliberately hiding them behind a read more since I’m not sure if MNET knows about them and/or if they’ll be there forever, so watch while you can! 

Just a little note before we dive in -- I noticed after I had posted the previous one that Seunghun from CIX has braces! 

I’m just really surprised, because I would have guessed that his agency would have made him take them off for this show, or something. I’m glad he has them if he needs them, for sure -- it’s just a surprise. Knowing this helps explain why he smiles so strangely sometimes. 

Anyway! 

Don’t Go

The next performance is Kajima, Kajima (Don’t Go, Don’t Go). 

A little about the song before we get to the performance. It was originally performed by a singing duo called Brown Eyes, which, per Wikipedia, is “considered one of South Korea's most important R&B groups, given their immense commercial success.” The duo consists of Yoon Gun and Naul, both of whom have gone on to do other stuff. Naul recently did a duo with Sung Sikyung, the guy who first sang Every Moment of You (the previous song on this show). The song Kajima, Kajima won the Best Ballad/R&B Performance award at the 2008 MNET Asian Music awards.

Kajima, Kajima is the miserable wail of a deserted lover begging their partner to come back. Some of the lyrics, per a blog I found: “Stupidly / I still live for you / Where are you? / I need you so much / Oh baby, my only one / Please stop and come back now / Just tell me this is a joke / Simply return to me.” 

Mini Korean lesson: You might recognize the -jima ending from the GOT7 song Stop It, when they say “hajima, hajima” over and over (“hajima” means “don’t). And you heard the “ka” verb at the beginning of the Oneus song Lit, when they say, “Kaja!” (let’s go!) So ka is for go, and -jima is a negative command, so kajima is “don’t go”. Woot! 

Kajima, Kajima is known for a really high note -- a high G#5. I would have to warm up to hit that note at all -- and I’m not confident I could hit it with much resonance. And I’m a mezzo-soprano -- it would be insane to hit that note as a tenor!  Like the other ballads on this show, it’s known for being particularly emotional, but in this case it’s also tricky to sing. That’s why the other guys call it a “hell song.”

So, who would want to take this song on? Why, mister high notes himself, Park Jeup.

Park Jeup was second to choose and chose this song right off, but it took a while for anyone else to join him, to the point that he started to get nervous. But after a bit, 16th ranked Detective Donghun from A.C.E. chose it while there were still spots open in every song. It turns out that Donghun really wanted to sing Breath but chose this song so that he could work with Jeup. Aww! They were on I Can See Your Voice 4 together, so Donghun may have admired Jeup’s voice for a while. They’re “chingus” in the sense that they were born in the same year, 1993, and in Korean culture having someone around who is the same age as you is sort of meaningful, almost like when you meet someone from your home country when you’re abroad.

“Will I be able to sing this song well?” … “I’m sure you’ll do well.”

Also, Donghun proved he’s not scared to tackle tough material when he did an EXO song for his teaser performance. 

By the time Neon chose the song, Ditto, Tomboy, and Shall I Love You Again  were closed, but he seems to choose this song without hesitation. By the time 36th place Hyukjin choose it, the only songs open were this song, Every Moment Of You (the one we just saw), or Breath, but I think he might have really wanted this song anyway. Based on his teaser performance -- that wild metal performance -- he also likes to tackle tough material. (Hyukjin was also born in 1993, making him also a chingu to Jeup and Donghun. Neon is a little younger, about 28 years old.)

In my original assessment of Jeup, I noted that I loved his technique but wasn’t sure about his timbre, but that I’d give him a chance to grow on me. For Hyukjin, I recognized the ambition of what he tried to do and again decided to reserve judgment. About Neon, I said that he has nice, clean vocals, with good technique and a lot of power. And I said that Donghun has an appealing warm vocal color with good breath support, but strains his throat a bit. If I had to pick a favorite voice of the four based on their teaser song, I’d choose Neon, but Donghun wouldn’t be too far behind. This is a group of powerful vocalists, regardless of the category they chose, and I am hopeful that it will turn out well.

The group seems pretty happy to all be working together, and they view each other as talented colleagues, which might make it tricky to divvy up the parts. They’re all really good, so who should sing what? 

Look at how shiny Hyukjin’s suit is! Those gray lines are just lights reflecting off of creases in the material. 

They begin singing the song a bit to test out the waters, and Jeup’s strong clear tenor fills the studio. Over in team Beautiful, Lim Sang Hyun wonders out loud, “Is that the original song playing?” 

LTR: Lim Sanghyun, Taewoo, Jeong Yunseo, Kim Minseo 

They take turns singing a bit and they all sound fantastic. They’re not really sure what to do, because Jeup doesn’t want to take the verse, which he thinks is too low for him, and so he wants to do the chorus, which is a long part. Donghun also wants to do that long part, but decides that it suits Jeup more and decides to do a different part that is more emotional, even if it’s shorter. The rest of the part distribution goes well.

Then we go into a mini montage of Donghun’s struggles in his life. He’s always wanted to sing, and went on various shows to make that happen, but though he made top 10 of Superstar K5 that wasn’t quite good enough, and then he made the debut lineup of that shitshow that was MIXNINE but of course that group didn’t debut. He thought that debuting (in A.C.E.) would make it ok, but it didn’t. I beg to differ, sir! People really like A.C.E.! But I guess it’s not like A.C.E. have hit the highs of BTS and Seventeen, so I understand what he’s saying. “Actually the survival program itself was a bit of a trauma for me,” he adds, and I feel that. These shows seriously should gift each contestant at least 20 hours of a post-show mental health counseling. 

The guys are meeting in some sort of staff room, probably at one of their agencies. Looks like three of them were drinking something cool, but smart Jeup is drinking something hot. Cold stuff is bad for your throat, my friends. Jeup knows where it’s at.

Left to right: Hyukjin, Neon, Donghun, and Jeup

Also, I think Jeup looks so much nicer with his hair this way, sort of parted and brushed back, instead of down over his face like bangs.

Anyway, at this meeting, Donghun is saying, “I want us to decide what kind of thoughts we’ll have when we sing this song, so that we have a unified approach. The song title is Don’t Go, Don’t Go. We can make it about our dreams. I haven’t seen my dream lately, and I hope it comes to me now.”    

The editors play some sad piano music as Donghun’s words sink in. All four of them know what he’s talking about. Honestly, Hyukjin and Jeup know what he means even more than he does -- A.C.E. is about 100x more popular than Jeup’s group was, and about 100,000x more popular than Hyukjin’s current group. 

Hyukjin, partly quoting from the song, says, “Living like a fool is heartbreaking. But we keep living like fools.” Then he smiles incredulously, as if he almost can’t believe that he’s made that connection. Donghun has really hit a nerve here. 

Donghun agrees with Hyukjin, and says, “yes, we keep singing like fools.” He interviews that he wants to reclaim his dream and get it back. 

As the lights go down on performance day, Donghun voiceovers, I want to sing my heart out with no regrets. 

Here’s the full version, no reactions. 

My thoughts:

Damn, that was good. 

Let me nitpick for just a few seconds. Yes, Hyukjin’s voice is a little thin and he strained on the highest notes, and Jeup’s voice is a bit too high in timbre to be my favorite, and Donghun’s voice still sounds strained, like he must be hurting his throat. 

But it all ended up working. I don’t know, man, this was good. For one thing, all the voices are really good individually, and then they also are a great mix. You’ve got the slightly tart Jeup, like a strawberry. You’ve got the bright voice of Hyukjin, like a raspberry. You’ve got the slightly challenging voice of Donghun, a pineapple. And then the smoothest voice, Neon, as a slice of banana mixed in to smooth the whole thing down. It fucking works. I don’t even like this song and I liked listening to their performance. I mean, this is going on my playlist, you guys. This is good shit.

I particularly like Neon’s voice, even though I recognize that it’s not quite as powerful or well trained as the others’. To me, he sounds just a little like Do Kyungsoo and that’s just about the highest compliment I can give to a singer. 

Also, damn, I don’t normally talk about this kind of thing exactly but Park Jeup, in addition to being a real sweetheart, is a really good looking dude. I’m not made of steel, you guys. 

Those cheekbones! Those shoulders! Am I alone on this…? 

The MNET edit, like all the edits so far, is pretty restrained. I guess they told their editors to not do a whole bag of coke before they sat down to their editing control panel. There are a few instant replays of high notes, but they’re blended in to the background mix so it’s not so jarring to listen to. 

All the reaction shots are positive. We see the judges just loving all of them. Vocal Coach Guy even asks, “wait, is this live or playback?” The love seems slightly more focused on Jeup and Donghun, less so on Neon and even less so on Hyukjin, but all four of them get some love, which is nice. 

Solar likes it. I think. I guess? Not sure.

She’s excited Jeup hit that one high note! She tries to hit it too and kind of can’t! 

Backstage, the guys all kind of fall over hearing Jeup’s high note. They almost can’t believe it. Hwanhee kind of hits his own knees with his hands involuntarily. 

When they’re done, the judges give them a standing ovation!

They lavish praise on all of them, again focusing a little less on Hyukjin and a little more on Donghun. They think that the four of them could just debut as a group the way they are. Basically, the judges agree with me, so that’s good.

Vocal Coach Guy points out that Jeup doesn’t just hit high notes -- he sings with emotions. Then he adds that Jeup has nice shoulders, so that was funny. Wendy asks about Jeup’s range, and he says that he can sing any male song, that they’re all in his range. 

Dahee says that it was nothing but compliments, so the question is, who could win? Backstage, the boys aren’t sure either. No one floats Hyukjin’s name as top tier, but the other three get named, and the boys think that all four were excellent. 

So, who wins…?

Baekho, Solar, and Vocal Coach Guy all vote for Donghun from A.C.E. 

Eunkwang and Jaehwan vote for Neon, and Wendy votes for Park Jeup. 

So, Donghun wins! Vocal Coach Guy lavishes a bit more praise on him, saying that it was an easy choice to pick Donghun because his voice is so good. 

And then, oh guys, it’s so sad. Donghun starts to cry, saying it’s the first time he’s been recognized like this. 

The judges are a little uncomfortable because the “win” is kind of a minor one, and they’re surprised at his reaction. It’s like this is what Donghun has been waiting his whole life to hear. 

Donghun adds that he didn’t expect to win, that he was focusing on working well with his team.

Backstage, the guys are like, oof, wouldn’t want to have to follow that! 

So who is up next? Team Breath. The editors do that thing like they’re trying to trick you into thinking that the performance is starting, but the episode is almost over and this obviously just a teaser. Thanks, editors. Theditors. 

Since we’re at the end of the episode, I’ll end the post here. Woo! Finally to the end of the first episode! I'm only two full episodes behind... great! Anyway, I'll see you in the next one, and thanks as always for reading. <3

[congregamus]

Just found a journal entry from almost 20 years ago where I'm still working on the same things. It's hard to know if it's because what little bit of help I get isn't great, or if the problem is that I'm fighting WHAT ACTUALLY IS rather than just my POV regarding that.

Everything Bad and Beautiful

(This is a reference to a Sandra Bernhard Concert Album)

I had a really hard day yesterday, so I took a mental health day from work today.

In my performance class, I get the opportunity to sing for Joyce DiDonato, the premiere Rossini mezzo-soprano of our generation. Since I'm having a hard time staying close to center right now,  I thought it wise to take care of myself so that I don't spiral further into confusion. But most of all, I want to have a positive musical experience in this class. There are tasks in the world that you don't need proper sleep and emotional stability to perform, but singing for an idol is not one that you can phone in.

So, I took the reins and am taking care of me.

I wanted to sing something new to help get my grad recital further on its feet, but in the interest of ensuring the good experience, I will sing something challenging, but something that I know very, very well. I have never sung this piece in class, so it's new to my classmates, but old hat to me. I learned a new song, but more importantly, I've learned some things applicable to my emotional well-being.

There are times to act, but there are also times when action is not advisable, but ignoring my own discomfort in any situation is never the right answer.

The "Truth" as I Learned It and the "Truth" as I Now See It:

→When I was a kid, I was told, "Just suffer through it." I learned that my needs were not important. As the child of a bi-vocational minister, I learned that I came last. That anyone with a sniffle got the family's full attention, but by the time it was my turn, everyone was too tired to bother with me. I learned to say, "Of course" when I was asked, "Can it wait?" I learned that it truly could wait. Seemingly forever. I also learned that Christlike self-sacrifice was the greatest gift to offer the world. And don't forget that if it's easy to give, the act of giving means a whole lot less. Anyone can do what is convenient for himself. What you have to do is dig down deep to the point where you don't think you have any more left for yourself, because that's where Jesus is.

→Now, I'm starting to understand that no one really wants more of me than I have to give. Unconditional love extends to me, from myself as well. I've spent the last 15 years of my life running on empty.

I can't hide my feelings because I'm afraid that I won't be loved anymore. When I feel that I'm giving more than I honestly have to give, it makes me go into protection mode, and my inner light doesn't shine.

The "Truth" as I Learned It and the "Truth" as I Now See It:

→If you show anyone who you really are, then you will not be loved, because that person is gay. And gays are not allowed. If you are honest and tell anyone that you're starting to wonder about all this stuff you're being force-fed, then you're going to be shut out of the lives of the people who are closest to you. So you should lie and keep doing what you're doing right now even though it's tearing you up inside. At least the world isn't rocked.

→Now I'm starting to apply in my relationships what I learned long ago. A world that can be rocked by truth-telling is a world that seriously needs rocked.

It is possible for me to stand up for myself without lashing out.

The "Truth" as I Learned It and the "Truth" as I Now See It:

→Matthew 5:9b "Blessed are the doormats." Once you've established yourself at the guy who loves being selfless and giving until it hurts, it's really hard to break that cycle. When you trudge ahead the way that I have, forcing down your own feelings because you want to avoid conflict at all costs with the people who mean the most to you, it becomes more and more difficult to merely state your feelings that may be "out of sync" without bringing up everything in the past that anyone has ever done to you that you didn't express in the first place. But it can be done.

→What I now know is that relationships have to be based in honest expression and have room for everyone's feelings. It is easy enough for me to include anyone else's. It is much harder for me to admit that there is room for my feelings as well.

Please be patient with me,  everyone. I'm learning a new skill, and I will fail at it as often as I succeed.

[monotonous-minutia]

Cendrillon (Chicago Summer Opera, 2022), Acts III & IV

she's so tired and scared but still feels she needs to be cleaning :(

this aria!! I always feel like I'm right there with her

go off Pandolfe

the audience started clapping when he chases them off

actually good opera dad

this is such a cool effect

yay forest scene!

pretty!!

pure diva magic

gay subtitles I keep watching this like "is this real life"

her locket is the heart

i can't handle this!!!!

they both fell asleep on the ground and then the fairies led the princess away during the scene change. always wondered how (story-wise) they'd get separated.

fairy godmother takes one look back...

poor Lucette

back to the ball!!

she has the locket!

princess lineup

don't give up!!

she's here!!

so lovely!!

lookit them holding hands <3

a servant drags stepmom away and Pandolfe is happy lol

together forever at last!

happily ever after <3

omg this was so cute. they managed to make it shorter without cutting any major scenes; missed some choruses and ballets, but nothing super jarring. I got both my favorite duets!

Obviously I love that it's two ladies in love and I wish I wasn't shocked about it being portrayed onstage especially this having been performed in 2022. However I will admit there is something to be said about those trouser mezzos in their pants suits. They both give me feels in different and similar and lovely ways.

overall this is so charming and magical I loved it so much. HOWEVER I cannot believe they didn't let the divas kiss. I mean. come on.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

I think i remember a post where you mentioned sooga liking opera but kohga never taking him to see it. How about kohga finally getting tickets for them both? Possibly having sooga get invested in it and kohga being bored but still watching to make his bf happy?

I do NOT remember saying that, but then again I haven't written them in almost a year ish, soooo you're probably right! Let's do it!

"Sooga, get in here!"

Sooga stepped into his masters quarter's the second he was requested. Of course he did, fucking obedient idiot. He bowed upon entering, shutting the door behind him.

"You summoned me, Master Kohga?"

"Yes. Here, and don't say I don't do shit for you."

Kohga sighed as he handed him the small envelope. Sooga looked it over in his hands, before opening it. He inspected it closely, before looking up at Kohga in clear disbelief.

"Master Kohga? Is this for me? Honestly?"

"US, dumbass. Unfortunately I'm going with you."

Sooga was trying to keep his composure, clearly trying not to act out of line.

"You. Me. Is. Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous, but is this a date? Are you asking me on a DATE? To the OPERA?"

Ugh, he was disgustingly excited. He rolled his eyes, and held a finger up for him to pay attention. Like a dog, he was trained to know what his hand signals meant.

"Yes, I'm asking you on a date. BUT, we're gonna dress the part. APPARENTLY you can't do yiga attire in the opera. So we're gonna have to be in stupid monkey suits, and the mask I had to fight tooth and nail to keep. And god, you look like you're going to fucking explode."

Sooga was statue still, but when you've been inside a man, you can kinda figure out what he's thinking, regardless of what's happening. He gave a careful nod.

"I'm just. VERY excited, Master Kohga. May I please go get ready?"

"Yeah yeah. Take forever, maybe we'll miss it-"

Sooga bounced out of here quicker than a banana thief. God, if he bailed on him, he'd be crushed. Though he was debating how worth his glee was, later when he was stuck in that fucking seat. He was forced into a monkey suit alongside Sooga, which wasn't THAT bad. He knew he looked good, and Sooga DEFINITELY knew how to clean himself up. God, every shirt he owned fit snug on this man, he loved it. And so did the other gerudo women, sneaking glances at him.

Now he couldn't blame them, Sooga was a babe who rode like an absolute dream, but he was noticing. And he'd be damned if these tickets be wasted on this bullshit (Urbosa gave him these, so they were free, but still). He nudged his partner.

"Sooga, I'm not gonna lie, I've never done this crap. Tell me about it!"

That seemed to cheer him up immediately. He did find comfort in being commanded to do something.

"Oh, well Cil knows more than I do, as well as our resident treasurer, but I'm fairly well first. I know the first opening act has a female lead, so chances are we'll hear either soprano, alto, or one that Maz Koshia finds rather funny due to his namesake, 'Mezzo Suprano'..."

Kohga was semi paying attention. Listen, he hated that someone paid for him to watch a woman. He was gay, if he was gonna watch a woman, she could at least be jerking a guy off. Her just singing sounded like hell on earth. But you should see Sooga right now. When you got him going on something he liked, like yours truly or fishing, you just couldn't shut him the fuck up. Kohga would never admit it, but he loved it. So, it was worth it.

Having said that, he needed something to think about or he wasn't gonna survive this boring ass event.

"Hey Sooga, you wanna get dinner after this?"

"I mean, Master Kohga, this is already a treat, I can't be selfish and ask anymore of you!"

"Sooga, baby,"

He reached over to grab his tie, and bring his masked face closer to his. God, he could fuck him, ruin him, give these people a real show.

"You're gonna get treated the FUCK out of tonight~"

"Then, may I make a request?"

Yeah he was gonna ride that fucking dick in this stadium, fuck consequences.

"Mhmm~"

"Can we get clam chowder? In those bread bowls?"

This guy and his fucking fish, he was gonna kill him. He tried not to yell at him, ask him why FISH. Why did he ALWAYS WANT IT. But he sighed, nodding.

"Yes, we can get bread bowls."

"And then we can get you dessert? A few?"

Stuffing kink ass. He chuckled, gently tapping the spot of the mask that was covering his lips.

"Stuff me how you want, big guy, I'm all yours for the night ~"

He was about to get a kiss, to stave him off until after, when Sooga suddenly lurched foreword in excitement, making Kohga fall right behind him in their seats. At least he could get a good view of his back from here.

"Shh! It's starting!"

This was gonna be a long fucking night. But, again, worth it.

[eternalxbarbie]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME.  Caroline Elizabeth Forbes

NICKNAME.  Care, CareBear, Vampire Barbie/Judgy (Damon), Goldilocks/Gorgeous (Enzo), Love (Klaus), Wendy (Andrea)

GENDER.  Cis Female  

HEIGHT.  5′8″ 

AGE.  20  (Born on October 12th, 1992 — she thinks it’s fate that Jeremy’s birthday is the day after hers)  

ZODIAC.   Libra sun (aesthetic oriented, people pleaser, strong moral compass), Aries moon (swift, enthusiastic, and impulsive), Scorpio rising (magnetic, passionate, loyal, obsessive)

SPOKEN LANGUAGES.   English, minimal French 

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR.  Blonde (she had a red hair phase freshman year of high school. It was a dark time.)

EYE COLOR.  Blue

SKIN TONE. Fair-skinned

BODY TYPE.   Slim, slender  

VOICE.  Mezzo-Soprano

DOMINANT HAND.  Right

SCARS.  None, thanks to that handy vampire healing ability. The fact that she has no physical scars often messes with her head, as she thinks people do not understand that she still has trauma from what she’s been through even though there is no longer physical evidence of it. 

TATTOOS.  None, and with no plans to get any. She subscribes to the “you don’t put a bumper sticker on a Bentley” mentality.   

PIERCINGS.   Two holes in each earlobe, cartilage piercing on her left ear. She got a belly button piercing during the ill-fated red hair era, but Liz found out and made her let the hole close up.

BIRTHMARKS.   None

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S).   Eyes, hair, smile

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

HOMETOWN.   Mystic Falls, Virgina

SIBLINGS.   None  

PARENTS.  Bill and Elizabeth Forbes 

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION.  Student; Headmistress (eventually)  

CURRENT RESIDENCE.  McKinley, Virginia  

CLOSE FRIENDS.   Stefan Salvatore (her confidant, her partner in crime, her voice of reason), Jeremy Gilbert (her best friend, her soulmate, her twin flame), Elena Gilbert (her non-biological sister), Bonnie Bennett (her non-biological sister), Matt Donovan (her buddy, her tie to human life), Rebekah Mikaelson (the other half of Team Barbie)

RELATIONSHIP STATUS.  In a relationship with Klaus Mikaelson, it’s complicated with Stefan Salvatore. (Widowed by Stefan Salvatore on March 8th, 2018. Married to Chronos in 2064.)

FINANCIAL STATUS.  Stable. Liz is able to provide pretty much anything Caroline needs, and Klaus is more than happy to get her anything she wants

DRIVER’S LICENSE.  Yes! She wants to get her motorcycle license too. (Stefan’s influence, for sure)

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION.  Demisexual

PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE.  Prefers to be the caretaker most of the time, constantly trying to think up meaningful ways to make sure that the people around her know how appreciated they are. Her current relationship has shown her that she is allowed to also enjoy being taken care of as well, something that was fairly foreign to her until now and still feels uncomfortable and unfamiliar on occasion.

PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE.  Definitely a switch. With Tyler, she was the more dominant force. With Klaus, it’s far more balanced but she lets him take the dominant role more often. 

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.  Once she decides she’s in, she’s in for the long haul, come what may. Can be clingy and jealous. Very thoughtful, just wants to make life for her partner as idyllic as possible. Remembers every single milestone (first kiss, first date, anniversaries) but does not expect her partners to do the same.  Consistently uses sex as a weapon or distraction. 

LIBIDO. Incredibly high, probably something to do with forever being stuck with teenage hormones. 

TURN ON’S. Protectiveness, thoughtfulness, having secrets with her partner,  eye contact, neck kisses, consensual roughness, the tongue thing. Super big fan of angry/make up sex. Also very into building tension with secret glances/touches in public.

TURN OFF’S. Ignoring her, interrupting her, pessimism, sexism, messiness, lack of commitment/affection.  

LOVE LANGUAGE.  Her preferred love languages to receive are physical touch, words of affirmation and quality time. Her preferred love languages to give are acts of service and physical touch.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONGS.    Mastermind by Taylor Swift. Hurricane by Halsey. Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond. Barbie Girl by Aqua. Problem by Natalia Kills. Tennis Court by Lorde. Where Does The Good Go? by Tegan and Sara. Bottom of the River by Delta Rae. If We Cannot See by Devics. The Future Freaks Me Out by Motion City Soundtrack.

HOBBIES TO PASS TIME.  Reorganizing the closet of every person she lives with, shopping (especially with Jeremy), planning events, learning to bake (she is not great at it yet but she is determined), posing for sketches for Klaus, wedding planning (for her eventual June wedding), sewing (gotta make all those costumes somehow), dancing (especially in the kitchen while Stefan cooks), singing (she loves drunk karaoke), going to the theatre (live theatre and movies) 

MENTAL ILLNESSES.  Obsessive compulsive disorder, anxiety, PTSD 

PHYSICAL ILLNESSES.  None (shout out to vampirism) 

SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL.  Confident about her abilities (including organization, planning, physical fighting, debate, gift giving). Confident in her sexual skills. Confident in her appearance. Not confident in her ability to have people continue to care for her; constantly thinks that she will outlive her usefulness and be forgotten. Not confident in being chosen first or being considered important. Confident in her intellect in relation to school but not in relation to real life application.

[lovejustforaday]

2023 Year End List - #14

Forever Forever - Genevieve Artadi

Main genres: Progressive Pop, Art Pop, Jazz Fusion

A decent sampling of: Psychedelic Pop, Nu-Jazz, Digital Fusion

So yeah, I decided on the final contenders for 2023's year end list and promptly realized that the list was almost entirely full of albums by solo artists. Strange coincidence, I know. I swear it's not intentional - sometimes that's just the way the cookie crumbles.

Knower were one of the only bands to even make the cut for the honourable mentions list this year, let alone a proper spot on the actual list. Knower Forever got snubbed in part because, as much as I liked that record, Genevieve Artadi's own solo endeavour from this year was just a little more enticing to my ears.

As I mentioned in the aforementioned honourable mention.....what the fuck was that sentence?

Ahem...LIKE I SAID EARLIER, I discovered Genevieve Artadi through being one part of the LA-based jazz-funk band with Louis Cole, whom in turn I discovered through 2017 memes, and then rediscovered through my dad. Some crazy pipeline, eh? Also, turns out she's not a newcomer in the slightest and has in fact been making records in various groups since as early as the late 90s.

So who is Genevieve Artadi anyway? Well, as a solo artist, she's one of the more esoteric figures active in her artistic medium. As a vocalist, she opts to sing in a dainty, glassy mezzo-soprano that conveys sweetness with a touch of snark. She doesn't generally sing plain old regular melodies, instead playing with discordance, near-octave jumps, and occasionally letting her voice fall frail. She has a lot of that real jazz spirit that allows her to let loose and get creative, decorating her musical compositions with a lot of pizazz.

I've also noted a subtle, uncanny element to her delivery. Artadi's lyrics are mostly stream-of-consciousness, and the words often fall out of her mouth like she's an advanced robot, learning to recreate the more awkward parts of human behaviour through song. All around, her artistic persona and execution are both deeply fascinating.

And it seems that I chose a great point of introduction to her solo work. Forever, Forever is cool shades of pastel art pop elegance with fanciful psychedelic jazz embellishments. Genevieve Artadi has invented her own musical garden just like Minnie Riperton, except she's inviting the listener to sit down and eat spice cake made with crushed diamonds, and down it all with some very oddly perfumed tea that just might turn the whole world around you giant if you should drink it.

I'm just gonna say this now - fans of Melody's Echo Chamber and Sheena Ringo will both probably get a lot out of this record. There's a commonly shared love of this kind of ambitious, cartoonish but classy prog-pop approach which I could always use more in my life, especially to remove the drabness of my daily commute. Can't have enough of this kind of stuff, honestly.

So how bout those tracks?

"Visionary" is emergent psychedelic pop that unravels like folds of a fan into a sea of warm, fuzzy pads and acoustic guitars. It very much immerses you in the imagery of a world that is idyllic, but with ceremonies stranger and grander than you could fathom, like going through a portal gate to witness a festival of millions of butterflies. An aesthetic parallel to the fantastical anime film spectacles of Hayao Miyazaki and Satoshi Kon.

The best way I could describe "Nice" is that it's elevator jazz music that's taking you towards a destination of self-actualization. Artadi's high speed enunciation over the shaky 2/4 rhythm makes me feel all dizzy and out of breath just hearing it. Endless ascension.

"Black Shirts" is a shifty checkerboard ballroom romp with several track progressions, from flowery flute melodies to jazzy breakdowns with steppy piano solos, all before devolving into flimsy bossa nova pastiche. Genevieve Artadi tells a very frank tale of co-dependence, with silly metaphors aboutthings like Nissans that rings both funny and terribly sad. This song bleeds creativity, like sonic violets and indigos spilling over into a monochromatic landscape shaped like the one in M.C. Escher's Relativity.

"Plate" has some god-tier tight, groovy drum work which I'm guessing was laid down by her regular bandmate Louis Cole. The stream-of-consciousness lyrics travel about as fast as the speed that my own thoughts regularly fly in and out of my head, so it feels like a very familiar sensation; like being lost in maze of contemplation until my head is as big as a balloon. Very cool track.

I'll admit I'm not as keen on the majority of the slower cuts. I really think Genevieve is at her best when she's conveying a very composed, jazzy musical hysteria, especially because her more soft-pedal voice lends itself to more exuberant, flashy melodies. The sunny closer "Watch For The View" would be my one exception, though even that's more mid-tempo song than anything.

But beyond my silly preferences, I think this is a really fun record. Forever, Forever is everything you should want in your art pop - quirky, eclectic, evocative, and seriously addictive. This is a true music nerd's record, and it's clear that a lot of love and ambition went into this project.

I'm hoping Genevieve Artadi reaches a bigger audience with whatever she does next, because she's one of the most creative artists in her medium, and she needs to be experienced at least once by everyone.

8/10

Highlights: "Visionary", "Black Shirts", "Plate", "Nice", "Watch For The View"

[swaps55]

When does Anderson realise what's going on between Sam and Kaidan?

After the Normandy goes down he glimpses into Kaidan's grief. When Kaidan starts fighting his way back after that he gets to know him better. When does the other shoe drop? He knows Sam so well, shouldn't be taking him forever ..?

This is a FANTASTIC question, and one I have given a fair amount of thought. I'd claim "spoilers!" and keep the answer close to the chest, but it'll be a hot minute before I get to it, and who knows if anyone will still be reading by that point. XD

Still, I'll put it under a spoiler for anyone who doesn't want to know.

I initially asked myself the same question: why hasn't Anderson figured this out yet?

And here's the answer I came to: Anderson is not just grieving a soldier, he's grieving a son, and I imagine he feels very alone in that grief. Plenty of people knew Commander Shepard. Not many people knew Sam. In Kaidan, Anderson has found a rare person who understands his grief. That's a powerful thing. My guess is that he wouldn't take the time to ask why or examine it very deeply - all his emotional and mental energy is going towards burying and moving on for someone he loved like his own child.

When Sam comes back, I don't think it occurs to him to ask, "why do you care so much?" when "thank god you care as much as I do," is all that really matters.

So with that said, when does he figure it out?

Originally, my answer was: he doesn't. I was going to leave it at, "he never figures it out on his own, and Sam doesn't get the chance to tell him." It was going to be a huge regret for Sam that his father figure never knew he'd found someone.

But as I've gotten deeper into Opus and deeper into Mezzo, I'm no longer happy with that. It feels like pain for the sake of pain, rather than pain that's meaningful to the narrative or to the characters.

So toss that one in the garbage. So what does happen, then? Sam and Anderson don't have a whole lot of opportunity to interact before the reapers come. When Sam is in lockup, he's not exactly going to be chatty about his fraternization history. We've already walked through that he doesn't really clock it from Kaidan, because the role Kaidan plays in Anderson's own complicated feelings for Sam's death and resurrection give him a pretty big blind spot.

My working premise, then, is that Anderson does find out, but not because he figures it out.

It's because when Kaidan gets injured on the final push, Sam pulls his helmet off and lays one on him right in front of Anderson before they say goodbye, and Anderson has a bigger "oh" moment than either Sam or Kaidan ever had, lol.

I've written a snippet of the conversation Sam and Anderson might have about it in Anderson's final moments. It's less a snippet and more of some passing dialogue in my head that I scribbled down so I wouldn't forget it:

~

"Tell me about him. About...you and him."

"What about it?"

Anderson gestures with a weak hand. "Any of it. All of it. I...missed everything, and it was right under my nose."

"No," Shepard says softly. "You didn't. It just sort of...grew up around us. Like it never started and just always...was."

"Tell me."

At first Shepard is silent. Fear strikes Anderson's heart, but then he shifts, exhale coming out like a rattle. "Ever just...meet someone, and then turn around one day and realize there is nothing you wouldn't do, no bridge you wouldn't cross, no sin you wouldn't commit...for them."

A faltering smile touches Anderson's lips as he remembers the lost boy playing in the fountain, the kid who was determined to bend physics to his will, the man who laid in a hospital bed after turning the N7 test on its head and asked if he'd done enough.

"Yes. I have."

[milady-pink]

Waitress AU

Warnings: Food/baking, domestic abuse, unplanned pregnancy, cheating

Summary: Working at a dead end job, waitress Christine soon finds herself with a new problem: an unplanned pregnancy. Life is all about trying to find the sweet spots and luckily this pie genius has a new (and pretty adorkably sexy) OBGYN, who isn’t too happy at home either.

TL;DR Quirky cute and sexy Erik as a doctor, lab coat and all.

Word Count: 1853  || Graphics: @firefly-graphics

"What Baking Can Do "

Recipe Book

AO3

“Shit shit shit!!!”

“Christine, calm down! Everything will work out!”

“Yeah, maybe it was meant to happen!”

Despite their best efforts Christine still felt like her life was running away without her. From a young age she promised herself she would have children and a loving husband; ever since the first time she saw her father hit her mother. Since her once loving husband turned into the exact type of man she was trying to stay away from, she made a new promise— not bringing a child into the same house she grew up in. She felt like a failure. She also felt betrayed; by God, by her husband, and especially by her ovaries.

Christine raked her hands through her hair, scratching her scalp to calm her body, while taking in a deep breath through her nose and releasing through her mouth. All thoughts were pushed to the farthest corners of her mind, really not wanting to deal with her impending doom at the moment.

“Are you alright, honey?” Asked a concerned Carlotta.

Christine lets out a sigh, “Yeah I’m fine, I ju—”

Before she finished speaking, inspiration for a new pie recipe struck; not an absurd thing to happen since almost every other pie has come from a momentous occasion in her life. For better or for worse. A woman's voice whispered to her from the dark crevices of her mind, a long forgotten melody rolling like waves into her ear.

Sugar

Butter

Flour

“Christine, are you sure you’re alright?” Meg’s voice brought her crashing back to her environment— the dimly lit women’s restroom at the diner.

“Shh, I’m inventing a new pie in my head” she hushed her friend to find the right ingredients from her mind’s pantry.

“Of course you are,” cautioned Carlotta, weary of her friend’s reaction to finding out she is pregnant.

“I’m gonna call it, ‘I Don’t Want Raoul’s Baby Pie’.”

“I don’t think we can write that on the menu board,” pondered Meg, “considering this is a family restaurant.”

Not one to be deterred, Christine thought of a new name. “Then,” she huffed, “I’ll just call it, ‘Betrayed By My Eggs Pie’.” Her two closest friends looked at each other and shared a shrug, decidedly giving up on family-friendly names and letting her run wild to get her emotions out. “Crack and egg, combines it with sausage, soak in beer, mix in cheeses red dressing, and use extra shortening to trap the moisture in your crust forever—”.

“Chrissy!,” interrupted Carlotta’s cigarette mezzo voice, “This ain’t somethin’ you can just cook up and mix into a pie.” 

Just as Christine opened her mouth to respond, a much deeper mustachioed voice rang into the women’s bathrooms from the door. “Y’all can pledge the sorority later! If ya don’t do yer work, I’m gonna dock yer pay!” This caused the three waitresses to leave the comfort of their meeting room, Christine going first to emphasize that she was don’t with any and all conversations concerning her uterus. 

As they walked back into the streaming afternoon light of the diner, Piangi called out Carlotta especially. “And you are really starting to push my buttons!” He pointed right in her face.

And, because her red hair was not the only fiery aspect of herself, Carlotta answered him. “Oh really? Which one is mute?!” The two then got into a stare-down until one of them broke and they both had to get back to work.

A familiar voice broke Christine of her daze at the counter.”Excuse me ma’am, is there anyone who can get me a piece of pie around here?”

Turning around from serving a customer, she is surprised to see Raoul who instantly put his hands around her waist. “Raoul,” she hesitated, “what’re you doin’ here?” Anxiety slowly seeped into her body, not wanting him to find out about the pregnancy.

He huffs out a breath, clearly not wanting to talk about it. “Friggin’ foreman was on my ass for bein’ a little late. So I told him, don’t blame the Taco Bell breakfast line on me!” Even his reenactment of his anger gave Christine chills, which she suppressed. “Anyway, I’m takin’ the rest of the day off, don’t belong at that shit job,” he trailed off before startling her with a boisterous, “hey where’s my kiss?”

“Raoul, I gotta get back to the customers,” which wasn’t a lie, but she also didn’t want his cologne to give her another nausea attack.

“They can wait,” he demands. Christine goes up to her tiptoes and places a chaste kiss on his cheek, getting scratched a bit by the scruff that’s been there for days. With a smile on his face, he asks the dreaded question, How’re we doin’ today?” This not-so-secret phrase was code for ‘how much money did you make at your dead-end job that I can waste at the bar?’ All too familiar with how he works, Christine pulls out what few dollars she’s made from tips, usually waiting till dinner to give him her full day’s wages. 

Handing the money over to him, he of course would not miss an opportunity to berate her a bit. “Not too bad…not too great either.” He places the money into the back pocket of his worn jeans. He follows her around as she gets a piece of pie for him. “You know, I’ve been thinkin’.” Uh oh. “I don’t think you working at this rundown diner is worth it for you anymore.”

Not wanting to cause a scene, or any trouble she’ll have to deal with when she gets home, Christine cautiously asks her husband, “Oh? And why’s that?”, as she placed the pie piece in front of him.

Sitting down to let his beer belly relax, he scratches his chin as he answers her. “Well, for starters, I don’t like those girls.” Christine had to try and focus on the creases the paper napkins had to keep herself from defending her friends. “That one,” he stated, pointing at Carlotta who was standing by the jukebox giving him a vicious side-eye, “looks at me like I just killed her dog. Besides, I kinda like the idea of havin’ you at home makin’ pies for me all day.”

He takes a break from trying to ruin Christine’s life to take a bite out of her pie. “This is damn tasty!” The response to her baking, regardless fo who its from, always brings a smile to her face. “Don’t start thinkin’ you're too good. This is good, but face it hun, your no Sara Lee.” 

A blessed moments silence as he ate gave Christine the idea for ‘My Husband’s A Jerk Chicken Pot Pie’, completed with chicken pounded so hard you can’t even recognize it. That is, until he makes a comment on the size of her breasts. “They look like they grew a size overnight.”

Offended, she crosses her arms while relying, “That’s crazy, Raoul.”

“Hmm, maybe you’re eatin’ too much pie.” She brushes his words off as he gets up from the counter, giving her a blue kiss on her cheek with a promise to see her at home. The tinkle of the diner’s silver bell has never sounded so good.

In the diner’s kitchen finishing up washing some dishes, Christine’s thoughts are interrupted when a voluptuous waitress in a blue dress comes strolling in with a tray of dirty dishes on her shoulder. Carlotta places the tray onto the stainless steel counter next to the kitchen’s sink. She huffs out a breath, effectively garnering Christine’s attention.

“Christine, life is a shit show.” She began, with a sudden candidness she was not prepared for. “I’m married to Drooling Phil the town’s invalid and buy adult diapers on the way home from work most nights. And Meg over there,” she points through the door, “has been single her whole life, eating TV dinners alone every night.” She places a manicured hand on Christine’s shoulder. “But honey, we still wouldn’t wanna be you.”

This made Christine want to smack her hand off of her shoulder in faux support, but instead calmed her face to not emote, and walked over to dry her hands on a towel. “Everybody has got somethin’ they gotta deal with in their life; this is just mine. Don’t worry about me, it’ll all be fine—”.

“Oh yeah? What kinda father is Raoul gonna be?” Trying to get her younger coworker to see sense, Carlotta tries to plead. “Sweetheart, you shouldn’t force yourself to follow the vows you made, you were too young to even understand what they meant! Look at who he has become.”

“He wasn’t always like this, it’s just a rough patch, that’s all. He’ll get better, maybe the baby will bring that out of him.” Christine countered.

“How long have you been tellin’ yourself that for?”

She really didn’t want to think or talk about this right now, maybe ever. “I couldn’t afford to leave him even if I wanted to.”

“Girl you gotta dust the flour out of your brains and do that baby a favor! Leave his sorry ass and build a life, for the both of ya.”

“He’d never let me—”

“He’s not the one carrying a ba—”

“I don’t need to be reminded of what’s livin’ inside of me! I got 14 pies that need baking, so if you’ll excuse me.” She started moving about the kitchen grabbing what she needed for the upcoming batch.

“Chrissy—”

“Life’s Peachy Keen Pie”

“Christine!”

“Where There’s A Whisk There’s A Way Pie”

“Fine, I’m leaving!” Giving the stressed girl one last look over her shoulder before catering to more customers.

With four pies done, three in the oven, Christine was halfway through. Baking always helped calm her mind and let her wander into a world of flavor, textures, and fillings. Fruit, spices, creams, and more. Every pie has a piece of herself in it, however small, so that she can be part of the sweetest moments of a person’s day. She also puts little parts that remind her of the various customers she gets throughout the week. Certain things just go together; like the intimidating rhubarb pie that is actually sweeter that it first appears, much like the various bikers that come in. Or a lemon meringue with a sour filling and sweet whipped cream that reminds her of an older couple, one who is sour and one who is sweet. Baking, especially pies, opened these doors into the lives of the many customers and townsfolk she encounters on the daily. Doors that she could walk right through, and leave her old crummy life behind.

She wishes her mom was still alive, she had so many questions left unanswered. The biggest was why she never left her dad, gave herself and Christine a new life? The same thing she was currently debating. At least now she knows what her mom felt; alone even though she was carrying life. With flour covering her hands, Christine silently asks her mom once again.

Why didn’t you bake a door for the two of us to walk through?

[helloxavanhere]

Here comes the drums

Soft as a trail of bread crumbs

One two, one two

Like a heartbeat through and through

Crescendo with fire

Grow ever, ever higher

She stands center, she takes the stage

With a wink and smile wars would wage

Beneath a halo of light

Such a visionary delight

With the introduction comes a voice

And oh do the heavens rejoice

It fills my ears, fills the soul

With nary a sleight, my heart she has stole

Yet she's lost in the moment, I'm lost in her verse

Her life, her dreams, and becoming a nurse

Followed by a lovesick sigh, a sniffling twitch of the nose

A winning smile with glowing cheeks that could shame any rose

Such a chorus of memories

Ones that last centuries

From dusk to dawn

I wouldn't dare yawn

How therapeutic

Swayed by your music

Just a little more

From my depths I implore

So starts the dance

A desire to take you by the hands

You're beautiful and you know it's true

Just as I know your favorite color is blue

To craft a bridge to our hearts

A connection of our parts

A plan to be better

To quickly be ignored to the letter

Slower and softer you mezzo out

With enough time to connect your freckles while you pout

The track comes to an end

As will always be our trend

Dancing's not a crime

But I know there is a line

Before a slow dance forever

Where we can be together

With so much left unsaid

You are the song stuck in my head

[studentessamatta]

Announcing the 2023 Matta Spring Book Club Selection! “Io non ho paura” di Niccolò Ammaniti L’estate più calda del secolo. Quattro case sperdute nel grano. I grandi sono tappati in casa. Sei bambini, sulle loro biciclette, si avventurano nella campagna rovente e abbandonata. In mezzo a quel mare di spighe c’è un segreto pauroso, un segreto che cambierà per sempre la vita di uno di loro. It is the hottest summer of the century. Four houses swallowed up by the wheat fields in a forgotten corner of Tuscany. The grown-ups are take refuge inside to avoid the heat. Six children, on their bicycles,venture into the hot and abandoned countryside. Out there, in the middle of that sea of grain is a terrifying secret, a secret that will change forever the life of one of them. Italian classic literature. Vuoi migliorare il tuo italiano leggere libri e chiacchierare in italiano? Want to improve your Italian by reading books & conversing in Italian? Group and private book clubs begin the week of March 6, 2023 I invite you to join the 2023 Spring Matta Book Club and escape into the world of Michele and his friends during a long hot, torrid summer in Tuscany in the almost forgotten town of Acqua Traverse. Reading Ammaniti’s “Io non ho paura” is a great way to practice and improve your knowledge of the Imperfect Past tense and increase your vocabulary. Through a book club experience (group or individual), you will practice reading, listening, and conversational skills and learn about Italian culture and its economic and social scene during the 1970s. Visit the Studentessa Matta Website for more information and to sign up. Leggiamo “Io non ho paura” insieme! #readitalianbooks #Italianbookclub #IoNonHoPaura #NiccoloAmmaniti #StudentessaMatta #learnItalian #italianclassicliterature https://www.instagram.com/p/CnZ84vwOp2T/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[spoopywhiskers]

My online alias is Spoopy or Spoops

pronouns are They/He or They/Them depending on how the spaghetti feels

My main toon is Cap'n J. Trashman (118 laff) I play Corporate clash im currently grinding to fight Chip and Cosmo doin other misc grinding on the side for drops/suit progression. Cap has evolved from just a funny toon to a full blown OC with a book of lore (which i plan on throwing at this blogs wall later :})

This blog is kinda a mix of an art blog and a general hyperfixation shouting blog with the occasional lore rants and random thoughts

Racoons, armadillos, pigs, bats and i guess i have to say deer too since im being held at gunpoint rn /j /silly

For corporate clash specific smiles >:) C.O.O Thomas saggs my (platonically) beloved but general cogs go to backstabbers due to a certain silly oc of mine

Cashbot HQ cause TRAINS!!!!!! and Mezzo melodyland (idk what is called outside clash sorry) i love riding the mechanism and breaking all my bones!!! The brrrgh is a close second cause i get to deck people in the head with snowballs

ooof that's a hard one i love most of the clash kudos manager boss fights sm but im mad biased against Daves (major players) rn cause I'm grinding him for drops and its so fun

I discovered clash around January and started playing on Valentines day (Feb 14th) i had not heard of tewtow before i discovered it thought random fanart on twitter which is sad cause smol me would've loved tto

My toon has a whole arc around Throw so it has a special place in my heart also pres throw my beloved

oh geez how do I sum this up quickly i LOVE LOVE LOVE trains but im a general hyperfixation metronome notable ones are Pokemon, Splatoon, NITW, A hat in time and Professor layton and another random irl interest is volcanology cause hehe volcano go kaboom.

Don't play any currently but ive played sigh... Ponytown and Hypixel skyblock in the past and also Flightrising if that counts idk lol but yea i dont play any of those anymore...

Depends on my brains mood mostly online, IRl? HELL NO lol i have my social battery limits but i do enjoy playing with others who are chill its cosy!

Depends again sometimes i take weeks/months breaks but like rn I'm playing daily cause hhaha brain on a roll

Like I said I really like the clash manager fights thier so fun and unique plush the shiny hunter in me is very dopamined by the prospect of chance funny drops

I have an entire folder of unhinged things I've said when the daemons took over quipping back and forth with others is so fun i cant pick a fav.

people who aren't nice and chill and generally show the yikes red flags in game....

SMILES VERRRY EXPLOSIVELY IN SUBMAS i (platonically) love the goofy guys sm, also Mae from NITW just speaks to me too much and has a special place in my heart forever

people are so cool and chill here ALSO THE FAN/OC art *chefs kiss* yall so talented

I maybe have a Department/Playground AU blog in the works teeeheee but nah im done thanks all for reading!!! :}

MEET THE TOONBLR

(started by toon-ager)

ik a few of you already know a bit about me, but if you’re new, there’s some questions you can ask, and i’ll try to answer as many as possible.

1: What’s your name? Do you have a few other names you go by, whether its your name IRL or an alias?

2: What is your gender and/or the pronouns you use?

3: What is your main toon you play as (or whatever your most developed is)? Is it an OC? A sona? Your toon from Toontown Online all those years ago? Where are you in the game? (playground,gag,suit-wise). What game do you play (Rewritten, Fellowship, Offline?) Feel free to tell as much about them as you want and even include pictures if you can/want!

4: What type of blogger are you/do you consider yourself? Someone who makes fanworks of your ocs or others’? Someone who just reblogs what they think is interesting? Someone who posts fun/dumb screencaps? A person who develops entire stories/headcanons/lore with their own toontown characters/fan ideas? Or something else entirely?

5: What is your favorite toon species?

6: Your favorite cog?

7: Your favorite HQ and/or playground?

8: What about cog boss fight? Which one is the most fun to you?

9: How long have you been playing? Have you been here all the way back from Toontown Online’s original release up until its closure? Did you just start playing recently?

10: What is your favorite gag?

11: What stuff do you like besides Toontown? Other fandoms you’re in? Hobbies? Bands/music artists? Whatever you can think of.

12: Do/Did you play any other MMO’s/MMORPG’s/Other Multiplayer games?

13: Do you consider yourself social?

14: Do you play Toontown frequently?

15: What’s your favorite thing to do in Toontown? (try to max your toons, play trolley games, talk to people, do fashion shows/parties, help new users, ect. ect.)

16: What’s the funniest thing that’s happened to you in the game?

17: Is there anything that really annoys you that happens/people do in the game?

18: Not Toontown related, but usually this tells a lot about a person- what’s your favorite fictional character(s), if any?

19: What’s your favorite thing about Toonblr?

20: Anything else you’d like to share? Your main blog/other blogs you run? Fun facts about you? What you ate for breakfast? Go wild.